15 The Settling of the Spirits

 

The next morning, Bessie came late to breakfast. Rattle was there in all his glory eating anything and everything that was put before him and looking the better for it. At Bessie’s entrance, he stood up and bowed and Bess told him for the umpteenth time not to disturb himself. Rattle looked at her closely and saw excitement and expectation in her morning face. She said nothing immediately and concentrated on a large steaming plate. A slim woman with a hearty appetite was Rattle’s ideal female and Bessie, who could enjoy a good meal while being devastatingly spunky, had rocketed skyward in his estimation during his stay. He held his peace, tried not to stare at her and listened to the conversation. Andrew and Michael were telling Mattie that Landrich would be coming over shortly and there was speculation about the arrival of the family.

‘December will be beginning,’ mused Bessie, ‘I hope they are planning to come soon.’

‘Anxious to tell Uncle Thomas?’ asked her father.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Bess, her excitement breaking through, ‘but there is another thing. The queen is giving a ball for us, though the invitation has not come officially, and I know that Uncle Thomas and Auntie Dowager should be here.’

‘Not to mention Hortensia,’ came Mac’s voice from under the table.

‘Any idea when this ball will be?’ asked Mattie who was thinking about Bessie’s frock.

‘It must be soon. The court will leave at Christmas, I think.’ Then she caught Mattie’s drift. ‘I’ve already selected my dress. My cousin came to my room last night and we had a careful look through my wardrobe.’

‘When did she come?’ asked Andrew, who was uncertain about his daughter’s consorting with spirits in the dead of night.

‘Early hours,’ said Bessie, calmly pouring a steaming cup of coffee, ‘she’s never really seen the styles of today, so she tried on a few dresses and quite liked them.’

Michael just smiled and Mattie glanced at Andrew and said, ‘Never mind, it’s her house too and she only wants to be friends.’

‘We’ll go out and find a gull to send to Penzance,’ came Mac again.

‘There’s not many about,’ Michael observed.

‘Then,’ came Iggy’s voice, ‘we’ll have a word with Charles.’

Mattie bustled off to get them hot milk. And, having warmed themselves, the brother pugs set off to the shore.

While they were looking for Charles, Landrich came by in a fine carriage. When he saw the pugs, he ordered the driver to stop and made his way down the slope to stand beside them.

‘I’m Landrich,’ he offered, ‘we’ve not met officially, but your reputation precedes you. I am honoured to meet you, Ignatius Oliver and MacMichael of Mousehole. The Proud Pugs are an extraordinary clan. I’ve brought special tidbits for you sent by my sister Maudie. I shall tell her all about the pugs and,’ he added happily, ‘I understand there are some puppies. I shall pay my respects to them and their parents. It will be such a pleasure. Beautiful day. Looking forward to it all.’ He bowed enthusiastically and when the brothers bowed in return he beamed.

‘Let’s take him to his carriage or he’ll enthuse all day,’ said Mac setting the pace.

As they saw him in, Landrich turned and smiled his thanks. ‘I’m so very happy to be here,’ he said as he drove off in cheerful anticipation of his lunch and Michael’s rum,

When they turned away, Charles was waving from the shore. ‘All’s well, I take it,’ he said as they came up.

‘Very well, indeed, thanks to you,’ said Iggy.

‘Don’t make me blush,’ said Charles, ‘many of my relations do that in a pot.’

Mac chuckled, ‘We must get word to Penzance. There’s to be a ball and if our sister, Hortensia, is not given sufficient notice, we will be in a pot of our own, cooking away.’

‘The gulls seem to have gone,’ said Iggy but it was a question.

‘Gulls don’t like ghosts,’ Charles shrugged, ‘at least not a large group. And you have had quite a ghostly following here.’

‘Why?’

‘Ignatius Oliver, what do I know about those that swim in the air? Now, do you want me to get a message to the lovely Hortensia?’

‘Indeed I do. Please tell her to be ready with her finest jewelry and see that the Dowager follows suit.’

‘Nothing simpler,’ said Charles, ‘several of my cousins are headed your way. In fact, I think I’ll go myself.’

‘One thing,’ said Mac who had a vision of Hortensia in conference with a crab, ‘will she understand you?’

‘Mac,’ said Charles, ‘I was carrying messages in the name of Merlin long before pugs were thought of in this land. Rest assured that Hortensia will look like a Christmas tree for the ball.’

‘Will you be coming?’ asked Iggy with a smile.

‘Would you like me to be there?’

‘Very much.’

‘Well, then, I shall consider it. I am,’ he added dropping his protruding eyes, ‘a fair dancer and would love a little gambol with the queen. Yes, yes, gentlemen, I believe that I shall come.’

‘Splendid,’ said Iggy.

Then Charles was scuttling off.

‘Go in,’ he cried, ‘there will be a touch of snow soon.’

 

The Invitation

 

It was, as Landrich had said, a splendid day. There was food and talk and Landrich astonished Andrew and Michael by sitting himself next to Rattle on the floor and playing with the puppies. Bessie and Mattie were delicious to him, giving him the best of their table and joking and telling stories of the pugs. It was decided that Rattle would stay on for a bit and, looking round him, Landrich said softly, ‘Young Willie, I envy you your delightful family.’ Rattle smiled and gave Louisa a tender tickle behind the ears.

‘Thank you for coming, sir,’ he said. ‘I know that my behaviour of the other night smacks of a little peculiarity, but, I assure you that it was necessary.’

‘I am perfectly satisfied,’ said Landrich, ‘and I shall write to your dear mother.’

‘Thank you,’ said Rattle who was thinking of taking the unprecedented step of doing the same.

When he finally tore himself away, Landrich took many goodies for Maudie and he was prepared to regale her with tales of the family for days to come. As they saw him off, Michael and Andrew knew it was a job well done and congratulated everyone quietly as Landrich’s splendid carriage clattered away.

Later, while the family was lazing in the pug room, Michael, who was missing the comings and goings of the spirits already, observed, ‘It seems that all is done. There’s a quiet about the house.’

‘Yes,’ mused Mac, ‘but is there peace?’

Bessie though a moment. ‘Not quite,’ she said.

‘Then we wait,’ said Mattie who was adjusting Louisa’s bow.

They didn’t have long. Michael and Andrew took a last turn in the garden to discuss the best way of protecting the tender plants. The weather had turned colder and there was the odd flake of snow whirling round their heads. As they turned back to the house, they directed their steps toward the spot that had once been the old garden. Andrew was wondering if it should be recultivated and joined with the new one. They were talking about times for planting and making an arbour and bringing in some old roses that had long ago died out when they heard the sound of footsteps. Thinking it was the gardener, they were deep in discussion of particular blooms when there was a polite noise behind them.

Andrew saw the man first. Had he been misty or ringed by an aureole he would have been a cliché, but he stood before them so naturally in the attitude of a courtier on business that it was as if a neighbour had called in.

‘Gentlemen,’ he said and doffed a splendid hat topped by a plume which was held in place by a jewel, ‘I am Robert Dudley.’

‘My lord,’ said Andrew, ‘we are at your service.’ He smiled at the man but Michael turned a little to hide his face in the shadow. He knew his history and he remembered Dudley’s fate.

‘You have a fair seat here,’ said Dudley, ‘her majesty delights in it.’

‘We are her guests rather than the reverse,’ said Michael, ‘and her word has been the command of our family. Her delight is our pleasure.’

Then Dudley smiled. It was the last brilliant ray of sun before the clouds gather, ‘I’m come to invite you to a ball. She must travel soon and wants all your family to attend her. Now that your young cousin has been reinstated and the family honour is secure, it is time for celebration. For myself,’ he added, ‘I have not seen all the pugs together and would be glad of the chance before I leave England.’

‘You go abroad soon, my lord?’ asked Michael.

‘To Ireland,’ said Dudley with a touch of pride. Then he added, ‘There are those who sit in the counsel chamber who think I will not prevail. They are fools.’

‘May God grant you success and happiness, my lord,’ said Andrew.

‘And a safe homecoming,’ added Michael.

If Dudley saw the pity in their eyes, he chose to ignore it. He was a man with a larger purpose and was making idle chatter in a garden with two men, passing the time before yet another ball when he would put on something gorgeous and entrance the queen. For him, these men with their family honour and their pugs were little more than an amusement. He saw himself as a major player in the power game of England and here, in this quiet land with its old, old stories, there was no power for him to snatch. But he did like the brothers quietly standing before him and he sensed that they, who in the course of England’s history would not count, were more at peace and steeped in more joy than he would ever know. He was a greedy man and would have snatched their joy but not their peace. Peace, he thought, was for old men and fools. But their garden was lovely.

‘Your roses are magnificent,’ he said looking around him.

Andrew started, ‘Can you tell us what you see? We want to replant this place, but see only weeds.’

Dudley looked at him curiously but found the idea alluring. As they walked and he described the planting, he mused on how blind they were while he could see everything. And they sensed what he thought and were sorry for him.

As the men walked and talked, Iggy, Mac and Little Walter came into the old garden.

‘Uncles,’ said Little Walter stopping short, ‘who is that poor gentleman walking among the roses?’

‘Poor!’ boomed Mac, who didn’t see any roses.

‘He is the Earl of Essex,’ Iggy answered, ‘and tell us why he is poor.’

‘Well,’ said Little Walter, ‘he is going to die young and it is going to be his fault. Is not that pitiful?’

‘It is,’ said Mac stopping abruptly so that the others wouldn’t hear the puppy, ‘but how do you know?’

Little Walter sighed because he didn’t know how to explain. ‘Perhaps,’ he ventured, ‘it’s because in this old garden the sun is shining on us all but, wherever he walks, he cannot shake off a shadow.’

Iggy and Mac looked at the pup then at each other. Iggy said quietly,

‘What you say is true, but we must greet him as if we didn’t know. Do you understand?’

‘Of course, uncle,’ said Little Walter trotting with them and bowing perfectly toward the three men.

‘How is he going to die?’ whispered Mac.

‘Beheaded for treason,’ whispered Iggy.

Mac shuddered then shot ahead, ‘Come along, brother, we might as well have a closer look.’

The earl pronounced himself charmed to meet them, but found their sad eyes faintly disquieting. He bowed and reminded the family that he would have the pleasure of seeing them at the ball in a week’s time. As he left Michael looked down at Mac.

‘Know his history, do you?’

‘Iggy just told me. Poor fellow.’

‘Lonely and doomed,’ said Andrew quietly, ‘ambition is a terrible companion.’

‘Best go tell the ladies to prepare,’ said Iggy, who didn’t like to think of the tower and the axe.

Mattie received the news with the observation that the rooms must be got ready. Bess headed back to her bedroom to seek out her best accessories for her dress and the pugs went down to the shore. In fact, every pug went down but the puppies.

The uncles and nephew led the way while Wuffie escorted Louisa. Charles came up as if on cue and, scuttling up to the couple, waved his claws in salute.

‘Warm wishes on your new family. Merlin says they are handsome indeed.’

‘Merlin?’ said Louisa relishing the name, ‘Is he the very tall figure in the cape whose face is hidden?’

‘Indeed he is, madam.’

‘He does the oddest tricks for my children.’

‘I daresay,’ Charles admitted, ‘but he has come to bless, not curse.’

‘Quite,’ said Louisa, who had not been at all sure at first. ‘There are so many wonders here,’ she continued, ‘that one gets quite used to them. And you are another one.’

Charles chuckled, ‘I’m a wonder who brings good news. The rest of your family will shortly be on the way. The Dowager is packing all their best things and Uncle Thomas is beside himself with joy to be coming home.’

When the family got underway, news of their approach traveled by sea: here a lobster, there a school of fish, further on a plentitude of crabs all passed the word until it reached Charles who charted their course for the pugs.

 The house, which Mattie had been polishing since her arrival, sparkled. She saved the old wing until last; then, it too was dusted and its scanty furniture glowed. She paid particular attention to the large room where the family would meet across the centuries. Though it remained silent day and night, there was an expectation in it that had not been there before.

On the day of their arrival there was a flurry of snow and the air was sharp with it. The pugs stayed within and Iggy and Mac talked to Little Walter about the coming of his mother.

‘I think,’ said Mac cautiously, ‘that we might omit the story of your being hurled through the window.’

‘Gladly, uncle, but I should tell you that Mother always knows when you’re fibbing.’

‘Omission is not necessarily a fib,’ said Iggy, ‘but I have the feeling that she will find out. Never mind, you fulfilled your young destiny that night and Hortensia will have to put up with it.’

‘Will she be cross?’ asked Little Walter calmly.

‘Probably,’ said Mac with a sigh, ‘but be assured that if anyone gets the benefit of her teeth, it will be Iggy and me.’

When the family did roll down the short drive to the house, everyone was so excited that the thought of Hortensia’s anger vanished in the stiff wind that blew. Uncle Thomas handed down the dowager and she, in turn, brought down Hortensia, swathed in a woolen cloak of the most beautiful russet colour. Everyone embraced and went inside quickly. The Dowager praised the sparkle of the house and the greenery tied with bows. Her room, she informed Mattie, had never looked so comfortable or so inviting. Uncle Thomas prowled around the place, rarely settling, taking it all in as though he had been away for months. He asked no questions and made no observations until they had finished their meal. Then he went to the pug room and sat playing with the puppies as though he was in conference with them. All the pugs were there, and Hortensia, having found Little Walter and given him many kisses, was quietly snoozing by the fire.

Andrew and Michael came in and sat with their uncle. The room was quiet until Michael finally spoke, ‘You were right to send us,’ he said, ‘the girl was very troubled.’

‘Have you seen her?’ asked Uncle Thomas quietly.

‘No,’ Andrew answered for them both, ‘but Bessie has and, of course, all the pugs seem to have seen practically everybody. We are just their guardians.’

‘What’s this about a ball? Have you been going about the countryside giving out invitations to my neighbours?’

‘No, Uncle,’ said Michael, ‘the ball is not being given by us; it is being given for us.’

‘By whom, pray?’

‘By Elizabeth of the House of Tudor. You’ll remember her father, Henry; a great, fat man he was by all accounts. Billions of wives.’

‘Michael, I am not amused.’

‘Nor am I. I don’t know the dances of that period, so I fear I shall have to sit them out.’

‘Don’t tease him,’ said Andrew to his brother. ‘He’s had a long journey and this is his home.’

‘He will want to know that the invitation was given to us by the Earl of Essex himself.’ Uncle Thomas’s eyebrows shot up and Michael grinned and heaved himself out of his chair, ‘I’ll get the rum,’ he said.

And then the story was told. Andrew and Michael had pieced together a true account of the events surrounding the bracelet and Rattle added what he remembered from the night when the pugs had fought for the family honour. They were well aware that, by the fire, Hortensia was listening closely and deleted the bit about Little Walter sailing through the air and out of the window. When they were finished, Hortensia turned sleepily to her son.

‘Dear boy,’ she said, ‘I’m guessing that this account is incomplete and that, for the sake of Iggy and Mac, something has been left out. Am I correct?’

‘Yes, Mum, there are a few omissions.’

‘Will I become hysterical when I hear them?’

‘Quite possibly.’

‘Then let us save them til tomorrow when I am more awake and more agile.’

Little Walter breathed a gentle sigh of relief. ‘Yes, Mum,’ was all that he said as he settled down beside her.

While everyone else slept that night, Uncle Thomas again walked through his beloved rooms. Iggy heard him and shook himself awake to accompany his old friend. As they walked, he told Uncle Thomas of Little Walter’s terrific bravery and his flight through the window with the bracelet.

‘A true Proud Pug,’ said Uncle Thomas as they turned into the old wing.

‘In every way,’ said Iggy who knew that Uncle Thomas was looking for a sign of all the wonders about which he had been told. ‘Uncle,’ he said gently, ‘do you feel anything?’

‘Very little,’ the old man conceded.

‘A few days and you will feel more. They are not here, but, as the queen has issued an invitation, they will return.’

Uncle Thomas sighed and turned back; then they paused as something crashed to the floor. ‘It’s old Tobias,’ he said brightening up, ‘let us put him back to bed.’ Tobias had been scarce since the advent of the queen, and he greeted Uncle Thomas with what, for him, was a hearty welcome. He went to his bedroom happily and was snoring before they had shut the door.

Then they made their way back and Uncle Thomas patted Iggy with more gusto. ‘Thank you Ignatius Oliver,’ he said, ‘I’ve missed all this more than I realized.’

‘Good night, dear uncle,’ said Iggy stifling a yawn and moved softly back to bed.

 

 

CHAPTER 16 A NEW CELEBRATION IN THE OLD WING

 

 

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