Soon they reached the tailor's house, and were let in by Maria's mother, a stout lady with more than a little grey in her hair, but kind and in excellent health. She took to Dick immediately, his shyness combined with his tall, strong person were very appealing, and he was dressed very neatly, and groomed immaculately. They had been told by neighbours that Dick Parsons was a dimwit and subject to temper tantrums only his father could manage, with a whip, but Maria had brought home entirely different reports.
No, Maria was a sensible girl to have decided to see for herself, when Beatrice Atkins dropped by to propose her visiting the manor to meet Dick Parsons, who was looking for a girl to settle with. Her mother did wonder what Beatrice had told her daughter to make the young man appealing enough to consider a meeting, contrary to gossip Maria had had at least two potential suitors, farmers' sons both, but she had snubbed them consistently, saying they were bossy louts, who never treated girls with respect and drank too much whenever they had the opportunity.
Well she supposed Maria knew, they had al gone to school together, except Dick, whose mother had not allowed him to go, apparently because he was to stupid to learn. Eventually, they had moved away to a larger farm, and Dick and his parents had been mostly forgotten, except for the occasional gossip about his temper.
After meeting him, Maria was indignant, Dick could read pretty well, and though he was very shy, it was clear he was not dimwitted at all, just slow and thoughtful. And she said he was very calm and almost meek, not the kind to fly in a rage. Something must have been terribly wrong in that family for poor Dick to become unmanageable. Beatrice had assured her that Dick was the model servant, working hard, never complaining, liked by all, even Mrs Beauchamp.
Then Maria would fall silent, as if she knew something about Dick Beatrice had told her, that she couldn't tell her parents. Seeing a certain blush on Maria's cheek, her hair newly done up, both young people almost bonelessly relaxed despite the importance of this visit, the connection between them almost tangible despite them having known each other just over two weeks, Mrs Woods thought she knew what Beatrice had told Maria.
Dick Parsons was probably a lover of notable skill, everyone knew what was going on at the manor house, with Mrs Beauchamp keeping house with an all-male staff. John Atkins had been rumoured to be involved with her, and Beatrice certainly often had that same look Maria now had, a kind of sated superiority, the knowledge her husband pleased her where most others only thought to please themselves.
Mrs Beauchamp had probably broken Dick to loving a lady with skill, and Maria was going to harvest the fruits of the lady's efforts, had already done so. And keeping him sated had solved his temper spells, as well as having him work for a living no doubt, and teaching him useful other skills, like reading. And friendship, of which Maria had proof herself, she had been so well received at the manor, 'They eat like princes, mother, the mistress, as they call Mrs Beauchamp, is a superb huntress and everything she brings home is shared. And then she has a fabulous cook, we had such dainties at tea, and Dick didn't bat an eye, he is clearly used to getting ragouts and game pie and stuffed pheasant.'
All this was buzzing through Mrs Woods' mind as she led her daughter and future son-in-law to the workshop of her husband, where he had asked to meet the young couple.
Maria must have convinced Dick to try out the little dell under the outcrop, halfway down the manor house, and it looked as if they tried it very thoroughly, they practically exuded satiation and a strong connection.
As Dick was bashfully shaking hands with his new father-in-law, Mrs Woods nudged her daughter and asked sotto voce, 'And, was he as good as Beatrice promised?'
It was always such fun to be one step ahead of Maria, she was the smartest of her children and difficult to catch at anything. This was a direct hit, the girl, actually a woman already, froze, looked at her mother with abhorrence, and cried out, 'What? How'd you know?'
Shushing Maria, laughing her ears off but mostly on the inside, Mrs Woods replied, 'It shows. You look smug, both of you, and young Dick is much more relaxed than I'd expected him to be. I did wonder why you went to see him when you'd dismissed all the others. Beatrice must have told you something you were pleased to hear.'
'Mum, you're smarter than me. I admit it. Are you angry? Will you tell dad? Will he see it for himself, is it that obvious?'
The poor girl was getting distraught, and Mrs Woods replied quietly and calmly, 'He will not find out, not by himself, and not from me. You know we did exactly the same? It's a good tradition in these parts, I think few boys and girls enter their marriage unblemished here. Just make sure not to get caught, Maria.'
'We won't mum, thank you. And yes, he was fabulous.'
Her daughter's face showed that her first experience had not been the sweaty disappointment she remembered from her own first time.
'But it's not just that, though Beatrice did tempt me over with reports of his size and his prowess. I truly liked him from the first, he's so sweet and so caring, and at the same time strong enough to lift a horse. I love him already, mum, and I never expected to find a man I could love. I certainly never met a boy I even liked, let alone could imagine loving.'
Mrs Woods hugged her daughter, and said, 'I'm glad to hear that, love, now go help him out, your father seems on the verge of undressing him to see who made his coat.'
For indeed, Mr Woods was very impressed by Dick's outfit, and wanted to know who made it. Dick, of course, didn't know, he had stood still for what had seemed hours, in his underpants, for a neatly groomed gentleman in a handsome suit, who had measured every part of Dick's body to write little wriggly figures down in a notebook.
Then he had shown him a book with pieces of cloth, and Dick had chosen colours and fabrics. Well, actually Patrick and Guy had, with Dennis barging in if they went too dandy on the colours and the patterns.
A week later, the man had come back, fitted the whole to him there and then, adjusted a few seams no-one would ever see, then gone back to the mistress' study, for payment, or to deliver other garments, Dick didn't know.
He merely hung up the suit on a neat peg, put his working clothes back on, and went back to work.
'I think Mrs Beauchamp has her clothes made in London, father. Maybe she had a tailor from town over this time. It doesn't look like anything made locally, and I don't think there is a maker's mark in it. Dick is just a servant, you know. It's a miracle Mrs Beauchamp thought to give him a suit at all.'
'Mrs Beauchamp, there is a woman who knows how to dress.'
