Paupers Graveyard Read Online Free Page B

overwhelming; he was over six foot tall and built to match. It was his eyes that made her uncomfortable; they were almost as dark as his hair, a deep, unsettling black. She knew the servants had christened him Black Jack and it was easy for her to see why, she thought, going indoors to summon the children to lunch.
    Once out of the mistress’s sight, Black Jack grabbed Timmy by the arm, almost lifting him off the ground. ‘Why didn’t you call me when his lordship came for the horse?’
    â€˜I did call you.’ Timmy tried to wrestle away from the strong fingers that were biting into his thin flesh. ‘But you weren’t there, and the master wouldn’t wait.’
    â€˜Well, the next time, boy, make yourself heard.’ He gave the struggling child a hard clip across the ear and watched as he hurried away. He’d make it his business to be here when the master returned. If any of the rumours were true, it might turn out to be quite profitable. He was not averse to a game of cards himself, and when the master sought companions in the sport, he would only be too glad to steer him in the right direction. There were many wealthy farmers in the district who liked a gamble and were not fussy whom they played with, so he would be well thought of for bringing gentry to the table. Yes, he was on his way up. By this time next year he would be a changed man, hadn’t his own mother predicted it?
    Agnes Carey always predicted great things for her son. He was her world, despite the fact that on many occasions she had to get rid of his ‘mistakes’. She was an accomplished abortionist; her knowledge of herbs, along with the aid of a long wire hook, helped keep the population down. And it wasn’t just with the poor. Agnes told of many’s the fine lady who had willingly lain spread-eagled on the dirty tabletop and allowed her to poke and prod between their legs. That so many died afterwards from shock, loss of blood or infection was of no account to her. She saw herself as a saviour of sorts and made quite a bit of money in the process. Those who did survive soon found that they were in debt to Agnes Carey for the rest of their life. Her silence cost dearly.
    Black Jack didn’t have long to wait for his master’s return. Quickly bored, Charles rode back into the stable in a foul mood. His inspection of his estate had come to an abrupt halt in just over a mile. What he saw depressed him; dirty little cabins with children running around barefoot and barely covered in rags. And as for the women! There wasn’t one that caught his eye. But then it was hard to imagine beauty in such filthy circumstances. The smell had been the worst. Many of the hovels had large manure heaps outside, pigs roamed freely and he had even seen them appearing from inside the dwellings! His estimation of these people had been correct; they were no more than pigs themselves. He dismounted almost before Black Jack could catch hold of the reins, and would have stormed away, if the groom hadn’t stopped him.
    â€˜How do you do, my lord?’
    Charles turned, aghast that this upstart was addressing him. Timmy came running from the stable to relieve Black Jack of the struggling horse. Charles walked back to where the man stood, cap in hand.
    â€˜Are you addressing me?’ He was mortified to find that he had to look up at the man. This made his humour worse, and he was sorely tempted to use his riding crop.
    â€˜Yes, my lord, begging your pardon, sir, but I just wanted to welcome you to Maycroft.’
    Charles looked on as the man stood twiddling his cap, and decided the fellow was harmless enough. He was, after all, attempting to be sociable, which was more than he could say for the rest of the rabble.
    â€˜Yes, indeed, thank you.’ He cleared his throat as though the simple sentence was sticking there, and turned to go, but was stopped again as the man spoke.
    â€˜If there’s anything