He shivered with fear just thinking about Sally in her hooded cloak confronting him. She had appeared out of the blue like some kind of avenging angel.
He kept polishing the carriage as he desperately tried to think of some way to appease Sally and ensure she wouldneverspeak of what she had witnessed. He had tried begging for her silence last night to no avail.
Sally hadn’t said that she was definitely going to reveal their affair, but she hadn’t said she wouldn’t, either. The maid had remained maddeningly tight lipped about it, before vanishing into the night, as quickly as she had appeared. She was like a vision or a spectre of doom.
Jude shuddered again. He hadn’t had a chance to speak of it with Evelina yet. He hadn’t seen her today, and she was occupied with her fiancé and his father. He had appeared at Bosworth Manor mid-morning.
The Beaumont family’s head coachman and Barnaby were chatting idly now, near the other carriage, while the coachman waited for his master and his son to reappear. Clearly, the Beaumont family were intent upon monopolising as much of Evelina’s time as they could from now on. They were claiming her.
He sighed heavily, giving the carriage one last polish. It was done. The carriage was gleaming with all his furious effort. He walked over to Barnaby and the other coachman, about to interrupt to say that he was done with the task, when the front door opened and the two Beaumont gentlemen strode out of the house towards the carriage.
Jude stiffened. Anger rose in his chest as he gazed upon Mr. Beaumont, Evelina’s betrothed. The gentleman didn’t break his stride, simply climbing into the carriage without a word. The gentleman didn’t even glance at Jude or the other coachmen. But his father, Sir Henry, did address them..
“We wish to go to Charingworth, Wilson,” he said in a clipped tone. “We need to look at engagement rings as soon as possible.”
“Aye, sir,” said his coachman, nodding to Barnaby, before hopping on top of the carriage and picking up his whip.
Sir Henry was about to climb into the carriage when he glanced at Barnaby and Jude. He stopped abruptly, his eyes wide, fixed upon Jude. There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence. For one terrible second, Jude was suffused with confusion and terror. Had Sally revealed the affair and did this man know about it?
“You are new,” said Sir Henry, in an almost accusing tone. “I have not seen you at Bosworth Manor before.”
Jude cleared his throat, trying to fight his anxiety and speak normally. “Aye, sir,” he said, his heart pounding hard. “I am new to service here.”
Barnaby was frowning slightly, looking as mystified as Jude was as to why the gentleman had stopped to address him so specifically.
Sir Henry nodded, still staring at him blatantly. The gentleman slowly walked up to Jude, so they were mere inches away, studying his face intently.
“Where are you from?” he asked suddenly, frowning.
“Shrewsbury, sir,” said Jude, his mouth dry. “I have lived in Shrewsbury my entire life… until I came here.”
Sir Henry’s frown deepened. “And what is your name? Who is your family?”
Jude’s jaw dropped. “Jude Huxley, sir,” he said, so mystified that he could barely formulate a reply. “I have no family. I was brought up in an orphanage from a young age.”
The gentleman jumped slightly. “An orphanage, you say? How did they know your name?”
“They didn’t know my name, sir,” replied Jude. “They gave me my name. I was named after St. Jude as it was his feast day when I was found on the steps of a church and taken to the orphanage. And my surname was bestowed upon me by one of the workers there. She simply gave me her maiden name, for no particular reason except I needed one.”
Jude kept staring at the gentleman, absolutely baffled why this man wanted so much information about his background. He realised now that Sir Henry probably didn’t know about the affair. He was acting oddly, to be sure, but he wasn’t furious. And besides, if Sir Henry knew about the affair, then the duke would know, and he wouldn’t be standing here like this. He would have been dragged away by now to face the music.
“I see,” said Sir Henry, shaking his head. “And what year was it when you were abandoned and taken to this orphanage?”
“It was 1790,” said Jude, scratching his head. “I was around two years of age. At least, that is what the orphanage believed.” He hesitated. “May I be so bold as to ask why you wish to know, sir?”
Sir Henry didn’t answer the question. He merely muttered under his breath, spinning away, striding towards the carriage and climbing in. He didn’t look at Jude again. He rapped on the carriage roof, and the next minute it was rattling down the long driveway and through the high gates of the manor, vanishing down the road.
“Well, that was bizarre,” said Barnaby, scratching his head. He turned to Jude. “Why did the gentleman want to know so much about you?”
Jude shrugged his shoulders. “It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you,” he said, gazing into the distance. “I really do not know.”
Barnaby sighed. “The nobility are odd,” he declared stoutly. “Too much inbreeding, in my opinion. Well, let’s forget it and get back to work.”
“I’ve finished polishing the carriage,” said Jude quickly.
Barnaby whistled in admiration. “Have you now? You must have worked like a demon to get it done in that amount of time, lad. Full of energy today, are you?”
Jude nodded grimly. He couldn’t tell Barnaby that it was nervous energy he was trying to slake, rather than fresh enthusiasm for the job. But as they walked back to the carriage so Barnaby could inspect his work, he supposed it had its use, if it meant the head coachman was happy with him.