In Which Tom Makes a New Friend

Thomas Crowder to Lynde Falconer

Dearest Lynde,

I have finally had the honor of meeting your cousins from the Marshweather side, and I think you will approve of the new addition to the family.

Mistress Rebecca Falconer and her youngest daughter Minnie arrived four days ago, and before they even got here I doubted the experiment would turn out particularly well. The letter Mistress Falconer deputed her daughter to write made her out to be somewhat of a termagant: critical, exacting, suspicious, always believing the worst, and with a memory for faults going back into the mists of time.

Their arrival was similarly inauspicious. Lady Dumcruckle and I were in the courtyard at the time, so we received the full brunt, but your father came in for his share as well, as you will see.

We heard them before we saw them – the clopping and snorting of the animals punctuated by barked commands, unintelligible at that distance.

“There’s no market today,” Lady Dumcruckle said. “I wonder who that could be?”

A clanking of harness, a flapping of reins, and suddenly a deep hoarse voice, unmistakably female, but not at all feminine.

“Go in, now, Jehan, and make us known. Stand up straight, mind your manners, and remember the speech I taught you. Go!”

A half-grown lad, presumably the hapless Jehan, shuffled into the courtyard at high speed with one eye cast behind him before stopping dead and looking about in bewilderment.

“Look lively, now,” said the voice from the other side of the wall. “If we have come all this way only to freeze at the gates, it will be your fault, remember.”

The lad flinched as though struck, and looked even more lost.

Lady Dumcruckle took pity on him. “Good afternoon, young sir,” she said. “I am the mistress of this manor. Have you tidings for us?”

The lad flushed red and stumbled gratefully into speech. “Mistress Falconer – Mistress Rebecca Falconer – she demands – I mean, she asks – I mean…”

He lost the thread of whatever it was he was trying to say and trailed off miserably. A long-suffering sigh emitted from behind the wall.

“Walk forward. I said, walk forward, sirs,” said the voice again and with much rustling, two donkeys with bundles of cloaks atop them trudged into view through the gate. A third trailed after on a leading-rein, laden with packs.

I caught Wat’s Peterkin by the arm as he ran by. “Go tell Master Falconer his cousins have arrived,” I murmured in his ear. “Make sure he has his stick and is walking well. He’s going to need all the support he can get.”

Peterkin sped off and the donkeys clopped mournfully to a halt. The bundle on the first donkey cleared its throat with a prolonged rattle, upon which Jehan jumped smartly and darted over to help it dismount. Once upright, the bundle stayed motionless for several seconds, evidently gazing at the lad, who wilted visibly until he had lost quite three inches in height.

“I – I’m sorry, Mistress Falconer. I couldn’t remember the speech.”

“Clearly,” she said. Jehan looked close to tears. “Do you think you can remember now?”

The lad nodded and turned to face Lady Dumcruckle. “Mistress Rebecca Falconer and Miss Minnie Falconer ask – request your gracious hos – hospitality on behalf of their cousin Master Owen Falconer…” he boggled for a moment and went on “…who is resident under this roof.”

There came another sigh. “Very well, that will do.”

Mistress Falconer drew the veil from her face, revealing a long pointed nose and the most piercing blue eyes I have ever seen, and gave Lady Dumcruckle a long hard look, which Lady Dumcruckle sustained calmly, bless her.

“How do you do, Mistress Falconer? You are most welcome, and we hope you will feel at home. Master Crowder has sent for your cousin, who should be here shortly.”

She gestured in my direction and fell back beaming, so that I could do nothing but step forward and present myself for inspection.

“How do you do, Mistress – and Miss,” I added, since the daughter had gone completely unacknowledged until now. Miss Falconer slipped quietly from her donkey and began to unwrap herself without fanfare, but I was unable to give her more than a swift glance before her mother pinned me with a gimlet eye which paralyzed me utterly. I don’t suppose I stood gaping like an idiot for more than a moment, but it certainly felt like a long time, and only the opportune arrival of your father rescued me. I was relieved to see that he was walking strongly, and carried his stick instead of leaning on it.

“Rebecca, by all that is wonderful,” he exclaimed. “So you have managed the journey after all!”

Mistress Falconer lifted her head. “Since you were unfit to come to us, it was of course the least we could do.”

The opening shots having been exchanged, the two of them seemed to relax.

“You have changed a great deal, of course,” your father said. “I don’t think I would have known you if I’d met you on the street.”

Mistress Falconer sniffed. “You, on the other hand, have barely changed a bit.” A wealth of condescending pity suffused her voice and your father paled. It was clear she would be a formidable opponent.

Lady Dumcruckle found it best to intervene at this point. “You would surely like to see your quarters,” she said. “I will have a hot posset sent along, and some dinner if you would rather not come to the hall. You must be frozen.”

“I believe we can withstand the rigors of a brief journey,” Mistress Falconer retorted. “My cousin, of course, may be feeling the cold.”

A flush started in your father’s cheeks and was intercepted by young Miss Falconer, of all people, who had faded so completely into the background that we all jumped as though one of the donkeys had spoken.

“We are very grateful for your hospitality, Lady Dumcruckle.” Her voice is sweet but clear, and perfectly audible even though she was speaking quietly, the only trait I could see that she might have inherited from her mother. “It would be wonderful to see our rooms – my mother does need a rest in the afternoon.”

Her mother shot a venomous glare at her and your father brightened.

Lady Dumcruckle began to shepherd Mistress Falconer away, with Jehan carrying an armful of packs and your father trotting along after them, as happy as he has been in years with a fresh outlet for his spleen.

Miss Falconer and I both exhaled long breaths simultaneously and then laughed.

“With the generals occupied, perhaps the aides-de-camp can introduce ourselves,” I said. “My name is Tom Crowder – I believe you read my letter.”

“Oh, yes, and such a sense of fellow feeling it gave me, you can’t think.” We began to walk slowly toward the south wing, and she lowered her voice confidentially. “I want to say, I admire you very much for what you have done for my cousin, and the interest you take in his health and well-being. It is seldom that a young man thinks more of helping others than he does in sport and fighting – in my experience, at least.”

This was balm to my recently bruised pride, and I looked on her with more interest. She is a trim little person, a few inches smaller than I, with nut-brown hair and eyes to match, and rather a pale complexion. She evinces a startling gift for self-effacement in her mother’s presence, but alone with me she was most friendly and I found her to be pleasant company.

“I am glad you have come,” I told her. “It has already done Master Falconer a world of good.” I stopped at the archway to the south wing. “Your rooms are just ahead – I will leave you and your mother to settle in.”

“Thank you.” She held out her hand and I took it. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“Oh, yes, we are all one family here. Welcome to Dumcruckle, Miss Falconer. I hope you will enjoy your stay.”

She blushed a clear carnation and murmured “Do call me Minnie,” before hurrying away.

Thus far, my early apprehension has not been justified -- indeed, quite the opposite. Mistress Rebecca is a strong dose, but I see now that your father needed the medicine, and as stoutly as they spar one another it seems to do them both good. And Minnie is similarly dear to us – your father dotes upon her already, and Katti and Timothy took her into our little circle with scarcely a second thought. Her talent for managing her mother amounts almost to genius, and when alone with us she blossoms with camaraderie and fun.

It has only been four days, but it seems like I have always known Mistress Rebecca and Minnie. They have become part of the family, and if they cannot fill your place in our hearts, they have found places of their own.

The only thing missing is you, dearest Lynde. We speak of you often – you must hear your ears ringing; your father cannot keep off the subject – but it is not the same.

Yours,
Tom