Free White Water by Pamela Oldfield Page A

stood for a moment trying to understand what was happening. Something was very wrong. He felt vulnerable. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He would go out to the flock and think it over. Slowly, he made his way back to the stables and crossed to the gate at the far end. He lurched along the lane, his head down, his brow furrowed in thought. An empty cart passed him and he flung himself into the hedge to avoid it, and saw as it passed him that Matt Cartright was driving. He heard Matt break into loud boisterous laughter and wondered sourly what the idiot had found so amusing. At last he reached the field where the flock had been left to their own devices — and found it empty. He stared slowly round, stupefied. For a moment he doubted his own senses, then he doubted his memory. Was this the field? But the neighbouring fields were also empty. Leaning heavily on the gate, he covered his face with his hands and tried to puzzle it out.
    Minutes passed and he was no wiser. Three hundred sheep could not be spirited into thin air. But where were they?
    The sound of hoofbeats brought his head up once more, like an animal scenting danger. He was suddenly afraid. Three riders came into sight, round the bend in the lane. One was Jem, one was Mistress Kendal — and one was the magistrate! He began to run but Jem rode after him and, flinging himself from his horse, brought him heavily to the ground. There was a short, sharp scuffle but Jem was fortunate. Mark Wynne was far from his peak physical condition or he might have proved a dangerous adversary. As it was, he was quickly taken and, hands bound behind his back, was led to where Maria and the magistrate waited for him. The former looked down at him coldly.
    ‘You are discharged from my employ, Mark Wynne, without notice and without a reference,’ she said. ‘You have scandalously neglected your duties and I believe you cheated me. You have behaved in an improper manner to members of my household and you can count yourself fortunate I have neither time nor energies to investigate further into your activities over the past year. I’m committing you into custody and you will be punished accordingly. Have you anything to say to me?’
    He looked stunned by the speed of his downfall. ‘The sheep,’ he muttered. ‘Where are they?’
    ‘Sold,’ said Maria. ‘The entire flock. The lands will be rented out until my own son is of an age to take over the management.’
    ‘You whore!’ he shouted, but a blow from Jem knocked him down. ‘You bitch! You think you can do this to me!’
    ‘I’ve done it,’ Maria told him and her voice was steady. With a brief nod to the magistrate, she rode back to Romney House.
    Wynne was lodged in the gaol and later flogged half naked from one end of the village to the other at the cart’s tail. He was followed by a small jeering crowd who watched the whip descend thirty times until the broad shoulders ran with blood. No one at Romney House was there to witness the spectacle or hear his threats of revenge. At the end of his ordeal a bucketful of water was dashed over him and he was deposited outside the town limits and forbidden to return on pain of death. As far as the inhabitants of Romney House were concerned, the matter was at an end.
    By the time Maria rode back to Heron, two weeks later, the household had been reorganized. The money from the sale of the flock would supplement what little remained of Harold’s fortune. Meg Forbes, a small cheerful woman of indeterminate age, had been engaged as cook. The gardener had been given a chance to redeem himself and he would move into Mark Wynne’s cottage as soon as the repairs were completed. Matt was to stay on for another month and would then report back to Maria. It had also been arranged that the physician should call regularly once a week to attend Ruth — and Felicity was the proud owner of two new gowns — a pale blue brocade and a grey wool trimmed with yellow braid.
    Maria