by Anna Jacobs
The following morning, Eunice went to find out Mr Rycroft’s home address from the customer cards, then started to draft a letter.
It took her a long time to explain everything. Surely Irene would still be with Mr Rycroft? This time, Eunice wanted to contact Irene first and let the girl find her sisters for herself when the time was ripe.
She thought about it for a few days, then managed to put together a letter that more or less satisfied her. She hoped they’d forgive her for the deception.
When she posted it, she said a little prayer that it would find Irene and set things right for her.
Horry intercepted the postman and took the mail in to Gil, slipping a letter of his own into his pocket before he did so.
‘Here you are. And there’s a letter for Miss Fuller.’
‘I’ll give it to her.’ Gil looked at the letter, saw the Rathleigh crest on the envelope and went straight up to the schoolroom. If this was bad news about Judson, better they find out about it straight away.
Renie was discussing Christmas and wedding preparations with Beth, her governess and Lizzie. Everyone in the house and village seemed to be getting together to make it a double celebration, and one to be remembered.
Chapman was safely locked away and a meek little woman who proved to be his wife had turned up to claim the tumbledown house for herself and his child.
To everyone’s surprise, it was she who was distantly related to Miss Bennerden, but she denied any desire to lay claim to Oakdene. All she wanted was a home for herself and her child.
That left only Judson to worry about. Gil was considering hiring a private detective to find out what had happened to him.
He waited for a lull in the exciting discussion as to whether they should have the new square yoke collar to the bride’s bodice, and how long her veil should be. ‘There’s a letter for you, Renie. I think you should open it straight away.’
She took one look at his serious face and got up, disentangling herself from Beth, who loved to cuddle up to people, as if that way she could make sure of keeping them nearby.
He handed the letter to her. ‘Do you want to open it alone?’
She shivered. ‘No. Let’s go down to the sitting room.’
When she’d sat down next to him on the sofa, she stared at the envelope for so long without attempting to open it that he was hard put to keep quiet. But somehow he held back his questions and waited for her to slip her finger into the gap in the envelope and tear it open.
He watched her read it and then saw tears well in her eyes. She let the letter drop and turned to fling herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Whatever it was that had upset her, he’d sort it out, he vowed as he cuddled her and hushed her.
Eventually she stopped sobbing and surprised him by giving him a beaming smile.
He looked at her in puzzlement.
‘Sorry. I didn’t even tell you … Oh, Gil, this is from Mrs Tolson. She knows where my sisters are.’
‘I thought it must be about Judson.’
‘No, he’s dead. Is it wrong to be glad about that, do you think?’
‘Not when it’s a man so evil. Tell me about your sisters. That’s much more important.’
‘Read it for yourself.’
‘Are you sure?’
Dear Renie,
I have to apologise to you for keeping some information from you, but I’ve been worried about your safety. Judson had vowed to me that he’d find you and take his revenge, and Mr Dennis Carling didn’t believe how dangerous he was, so might have let some information about you slip.
So I told everyone you’d gone to Paris, including your sister Nell quite recently. I sent her a letter, typed, which I pretended was from you, in case Judson went hunting for you.
Now that he’s dead, I can reveal everything and ask your forgiveness. I didn’t even check that this was what you wanted, because I didn’t know for certain where you were and wanted to be able to say that truthfully to anyone who asked, since I have difficulty lying.
Your sister Nell has found happiness with a man called Hugh Easton, who lives near Faringdon, which is near Swindon. And I gather she knows where your other sister is.
The letter I sent purporting to come from you was passed by the people in your old home to the Greenhills, then to your sister.
Oh, and I’m sorry to tell you your father is dead.
I’ve enclosed the address I have for Mr Easton, though you might also enquire at the publishing house where he works. He may have come back to live in London by now.
May I wish you all the best for the future, and if you need a job, you may always come back to the Rathleigh.
Eunice Tolson
‘Good heavens!’ He gave Renie a hug and wiped away a tear with his fingertip.
‘Can we go to this Three Elms Farm today? I can’t bear another minute to wait to see my sisters again.’
He checked the letter again. ‘Why don’t we telephone this publishing company and find out where Mr Easton is?’
‘Yes, of course. Isn’t the telephone a marvellous invention?’ She tugged him to his feet. ‘Do it now. Then phone your parents and tell them about us. Oh, and there’s Walter and everyone else here. Not that it’ll surprise them, but we want to make it official, don’t we?’
Her expression as she looked at him was glowing with love and joy at the thought of being reunited with her sisters.
He had to wait till the operator connected him to London and then wait again to speak to someone at the publishing house. It took him a while to explain.
‘Oh, you want to speak to Mr Easton, then,’ the man said. ‘I’ll put you through to him.’
Another wait, then a voice said, ‘Hugh Easton.’
‘My name is Gilbert Rycroft, and I’m engaged to a Miss Renie Fuller. I believe you know where her sister Nell is.’
There was an exclamation, then Hugh said, ‘Tell me where she is and we’ll come to see you immediately. Nell has been so sad not to know where Renie was.’
‘Why don’t you bring Nell down to visit us?’
Hugh laughed. ‘No, I have a far better idea.’
The following day Gil and Renie set off to find her sisters, with Horry driving them. Renie was so excited, her hat was awry and her hair kept tumbling down. When he looked, she was wearing two unmatching gloves. He didn’t tell her.
She hardly said a word as they drove, but now and then he put his arm round her and gave her a hug, and she hugged him back fiercely, but without saying a word.
They passed through the small town of Wootton Bassett, where they asked directions, then drove on in the direction of Bath. When they turned off the main road, she roused herself enough to ask, ‘Are you sure this is it?’
‘Yes. Cherry Tree Lane.’
‘And you’re sure Mattie lives here?’
‘Yes.’ He didn’t remind her that he’d told her that several times already.
When they got to the top of the slope and saw that the road ended at a large house, she looked round in puzzlement. ‘We must have missed her house.’
‘No. This is where she lives.’
Renie stared at the large house set in neat gardens. ‘Here? Mattie?’
‘Yes. We asked directions, remember, and the man was quite sure where Mattie Kemble and her husband Jacob lived.’
He’d expected Renie to jump out of the car as soon as it stopped, but instead she sat staring at the house.
‘What if it’s not our Mattie?’
‘Of course it is. Mr Easton is married to your sister Nell, so you can trust what he told you.’ He got out carefully and held out his hand to her. ‘Come on.’
Her hand was trembling in his, but before they could take more than a few steps, the front door of the big house opened and two women rushed out, shrieking Renie’s name.
She began to cry loudly as she rushed towards them, and her sisters were weeping as well.
Two men came to join Gil and intr
oduce themselves, then one went to tell Horry where to take the car and find refreshments for himself.
One of the men limped slightly as he went across to the women. ‘Come on now, my dears. Let’s get you all inside. I don’t know why you’re weeping on such a happy occasion.’
One of the women gave him a quick hug, then went back to take Renie’s hand. ‘This is my youngest sister. Renie, this is my husband, Jacob, and this is Hugh, Nell’s husband.’
‘And this is my fiancé Gil, and you’re all invited to our wedding at Christmas. I want two matrons of honour.’ She plonked kisses on Nell and Mattie’s cheeks. ‘You both look so well. Oh, isn’t it going to be blissful being able to see one another again!’
‘Why don’t I show you gentlemen round the gardens?’ Jacob said quietly.
His wife overheard and gave him a smile and a nod.
Even before they’d left the room, the three sisters had their heads together and were busy catching up on all that had happened since the stormy day they’d run away three years ago.
Once they were outside, Hugh grinned. ‘I have another surprise for them and I think I can hear it coming.’
A motor van came chugging up the hill, with the words ‘Hal Keane, Photographer’ written in large letters along the side.
‘I thought they’d want a photograph or two to remember this day by. I’d better go and warn them.’
The three sisters shrieked again when he told them a photographer had come.
‘We’ll go up to my bedroom and tidy ourselves,’ Mattie said, putting an arm round each of her sisters.
‘I want a million photographs,’ Renie said. ‘This is the best day of my life.’
‘Your wedding day will be even better,’ Mattie said. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’
Renie hugged her, hugged Nell afterwards, then turned to the mirror. ‘Come on. We want to look beautiful.’
And they did.
About the Author
ANNA JACOBS is the author of over fifty novels and is addicted to storytelling. She grew up in Lancashire, emigrated to Australia in the 1970s and writes stories set in both countries. She loves to return to England regularly to visit her family and soak up the history. She has two grown-up daughters and a grandson, and lives with her husband in a spacious waterfront home. Often as she writes, dolphins frolic outside the window of her study. Inside, the house is crammed with thousands of books.
www.annajacobs.com
By Anna Jacobs
Cherry Tree Lane
Elm Tree Road
Yew Tree Gardens
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
13 Charlotte Mews
London W1T 4EJ
www.allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2012.
This ebook edition published by Allison & Busby in 2012.
Copyright © 2012 by ANNA JACOBS
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–1210–6
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