The Secret Years

by Barbara Hannay

  But finally, Harry’s parents were settled in a little cottage by the seaside somewhere in Queensland, he’d found a good manager to oversee Kalkadoon, and he could spare the time to make the journey back to England.

  Now he was coming all this way to see Georgina. Not to London as she’d suggested, but down to Cornwall, to meet her parents.

  She had barely slept this past week she was so excited. Surely Harry wouldn’t come all this way unless he had a very special question to ask her.

  After all, he’d crossed oceans, had come twelve thousand miles . . .

  A sound at the sitting room door had her leaping up anxiously.

  Stevens, the butler, appeared. ‘Mr Harry Kemp has arrived, Miss Georgina.’

  ‘Where is he?’ She flew to the doorway. ‘Oh heavens, Stevens, you didn’t leave Harry waiting in the hall, did you?’

  ‘I thought I —’

  ‘You should have brought him straight in here.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Georgina. I’ll —’

  Without waiting to hear, Georgina rushed past Stevens and out of the room, flying down the passage to the hall.

  Harry.

  Standing by the walnut table at the foot of the staircase. Harry, out of uniform. In smart pale trousers, a dark jacket with a white shirt and tie. Tall, lean and suntanned. Looking rather stern.

  And divine.

  With a whoop of glee, Georgina rushed across the room and hurled herself at him like a small missile. Fortunately, she didn’t knock him over and he caught her in his arms.

  ‘Well, hello,’ he said in that wonderful, smiley, sun-drenched voice of his and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her in a warm hello filled with glorious promise.

  At last. She was in heaven.

  ‘Let me look at you, George.’

  Keeping a firm grasp of her shoulders, Harry held her a little away from him and let his shimmering gaze run over her.

  She had carefully chosen a simple dress of the palest blue georgette.

  ‘So lovely,’ he said softly.

  Her heart gave a frolicking skip. ‘I should think I’m rather different from when you saw me last, after all those weeks in the jungle.’

  He smiled at her, his eyes burning brightly, as if he was drinking her in. ‘You were beautiful then, too.’

  ‘Oh, Harry.’ Impulsively, she closed the gap between them again, flinging herself back into his arms. ‘It’s so good to see you. It’s like a dream to have you here at last.’

  She could feel the warmth of him beneath his shirt and she longed to bury her face into his chest. She might have done so, if Harry hadn’t made a throat-clearing sound.

  Lifting her head, she realised he was looking rather uncomfortably towards Stevens, who was standing by the door like a dis­approving statue.

  ‘I shall send tea to the sitting room, Miss Georgina.’ Stevens spoke with excessive formality.

  She gave an impatient nod. ‘Thank you. And please tell William to take Mr Kemp’s suitcase to the blue bedroom.’

  ‘Of course.’ Stevens bowed solemnly and withdrew, leaving them alone.

  ‘He can be a stuffy old thing,’ she said to Harry.

  ‘You reckon?’

  They shared a smile, but Harry looked a little shaken.

  ‘This place,’ he said, gazing about him and giving a low whistle. ‘It’s not exactly a farm.’

  ‘Were you expecting a farm?’

  ‘I thought that’s what you said when we were in London. Your mother sent up eggs and homemade jam.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ But her mother hadn’t collected the eggs or made the jam. Heaven forbid. That wasn’t Lady Lavinia Lenton’s way at all. ‘Well, this is a sort of farm,’ Georgina said. ‘We do have farmland.’

  ‘And you also have a butler.’

  She took Harry’s arm, pulling him towards the sitting room. ‘Come on. Let’s have tea. I want you to tell me everything. And then, when you’re stuffed full of tea and cake, I’ll take you on a tour. I’ll show you our sheep and cows, the chickens, the orchard and the stables and you can decide for yourself if we’re farmers or not.’ She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘But you mustn’t let any of this bother you.’

  She could see, though, that Penwall Hall did bother him. He was still frowning as he looked about him at the huge high ceilings, the massive bank of windows with views all the way to the sea, the grand, climbing staircase. His frown was disconcerting, but Georgina refused to believe that her battle-hardened soldier hero, who had endured the worst war in history, could be unsettled by an old stone house and a few servants.

  Just the same, she was rather pleased that her parents and Cora would not make an appearance until dinner.

  Her parents were too well bred to refuse an unknown Australian their hospitality, but accepting him as a son-in-law would be a very different matter.

  To Georgina’s relief, Harry had brought a black dinner suit and bow tie with him and he looked absolutely splendid when he came down to dinner.

  They met downstairs before her parents and Cora arrived. Although they were alone, Georgina refrained from throwing herself at him again. Their afternoon tour of the estate had been pleasant, but also somewhat disappointing. There had been plenty of private moments when Harry could easily have taken her in his arms and told her exactly why he’d come here to Cornwall but while he’d been lovely company, he’d behaved politely, like an interested guest rather than a lover.

  Georgina reassured herself that he was doing the right thing and wouldn’t speak of marriage until he’d met her parents. So now, she could only hope that her parents behaved.

  ‘You’ve scrubbed up beautifully,’ she told him, making no attempt to hide her admiration, as he accepted a drink from the tray that William offered.

  ‘Thanks, but struth, George. You look —’ Harry swallowed. ‘Like a princess.’

  Her dress was rather lovely, with thin shoulder straps that left a lot of her skin exposed. The slim-fitting bodice and floating skirt were made of ivory silk chiffon embroidered with white-and-silver-sequinned butterflies and ivory silk taffeta.

  ‘I was hoping to impress you.’

  ‘You succeeded.’ He gave a quarter smile. ‘Consider me very impressed.’

  ‘Harry!’ a delighted voice called from the doorway and they turned to see Cora gliding into the room, resplendent in emerald green, her arms outstretched in welcome.

  Georgina had warned Harry to expect a change in her aunt and his smile didn’t miss a beat.

  ‘It’s so good to see you, my dear man.’ Cora embraced him and kissed his cheek warmly. ‘We’re all very grateful to you for looking after Georgina so beautifully.’

  ‘Georgina was very good at looking after herself,’ he said. After a beat of time, ‘I was very sorry to hear about Lord Harlow. Please accept my condolences.’

  ‘Thank you, Harry.’ Cora pinned on the brave little smile that was customary for her now. ‘It was inevitable, really. Teddy couldn’t have countenanced surrender and being a prisoner of the Japanese.’

  Harry gave a polite nod.

  Then Georgina’s parents arrived together, and Cora proved that she hadn’t lost her gift for charm and diplomacy.

  ‘Richard, Lavinia, isn’t it wonderful to have Harry Kemp here at last?’

  The warmth of Cora’s question ensured that both Georgina’s parents were smiling as they approached, although their smiles were decidedly careful. Even so, the atmosphere was all very pleasant as the introductions were made. Sipping their chilled sherry, the conversation was kept to boring but safe topics like the weather and the beauty of the Cornish countryside.

  It wasn’t until they were seated at the dinner table and starting on their watercress soup that Georgina’s father began to quiz Harry.

  ‘I believe you were here in England during the war?’ he said.

  Harry nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I was based mostly on the Salisbury Plain.’

  Georgina’s mother gave a loud
sniff. ‘There were so many foreign soldiers here during the war. From America and the dominions. I hope they don’t all plan to come back at once. We’ll be overrun again.’

  Georgina suppressed an urge to groan as Harry accepted this rebuff with a courteous nod. Fortunately, her father continued in a more positive tone.

  ‘You were a captain, I believe?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘It’s always good to meet a fellow officer and a gentleman. I suppose you and your officer mates are all busy getting your former businesses and professions back in order.’

  Harry attempted a smile, but he looked rather bemused.

  ‘Richard,’ chimed in Cora. ‘You do realise it’s different in Australia, don’t you? Officers’ commissions aren’t based on a man’s title or what school he went to. They’re a recognition of merit and military competence.’

  Georgina held her breath as, for a chilling moment, brother and sister stared at each other across the table. She knew her father hated being set straight, especially in front of a guest.

  To her relief, he lifted his glass to Harry. ‘I’d be fascinated to hear your story.’

  Dutifully, Harry complied. ‘I joined the army as a private, and I was commissioned as a lieutenant in Tobruk.’

  ‘Tobruk, eh? And your captaincy?’

  ‘That happened in New Guinea, sir.’ A small smile flickered then disappeared. ‘A case of finding myself in the wrong place at the right time. After a year of fighting Japs in the jungle, officers were in short supply.’

  ‘I see.’ Her father was frowning, still obviously not impressed.

  ‘We all owe a huge debt of gratitude to Harry for keeping Georgina safe in that bloody jungle,’ Cora commented.

  ‘Your daughter is a remarkable young woman, sir.’ Harry acknowledged Georgina with a smile that pierced straight to her heart. ‘She more than pulled her weight in our little team.’

  ‘And we are very grateful to have her home safely,’ her father said with pleasing sincerity.

  The huffing sound her mother made was much less sincere. ‘She should never have been there in the first place.’

  ‘That’s water under the bridge, Lavinia,’ said Cora.

  Another huff. ‘So what are your plans now, Mr Kemp? How long will you be staying in England? Will you be sightseeing? Drinking beer in the pubs you visited when you were here previously?’

  Again Harry smiled politely. ‘All of those things, I hope. I’ve booked my passage home for the end of the month.’

  At this, his gaze flashed to Georgina and she was sure she read a special significance in his glance. Her heart took off at a gallop and she might have blushed if she hadn’t also been aware of her mother’s marked disapproval.

  This wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d always known that. At least her sister Alice and her titled husband weren’t here to add to Harry’s discomfort.

  William appeared to remove their soup plates.

  ‘How far outside Sydney is your estate?’ her mother asked Harry, while Stevens served the fish.

  ‘Lavinia, dear,’ intervened Cora. ‘Harry’s property is nowhere near Sydney. Australia’s huge. Kalkadoon in north Queensland is quite remote and probably about as far away from Sydney as Penzance is from Moscow.’

  Georgina’s mother’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Good God. You mean you live in the wilderness?’

  ‘We call it the outback, Lady Lenton,’ Harry said smoothly. ‘And yes, I’ll admit my property is remote, even by Australian standards.’

  ‘You can’t have any social life. What do you do? How do you fill in your days?’

  ‘There’s more than enough work on the property to keep me busy. After being away for so long, I’ve been especially busy since I was demobbed.’

  Her mother frowned. ‘With what kind of work?’

  Patiently, Harry explained. ‘Plenty of maintenance. The fences and windmills needed mending and many of the cattle had escaped, going wild in the hills and the scrub, so they had to be mustered and then driven overland to markets. There were cows with new calves that needed extra attention.’

  Georgina’s mother looked genuinely shocked. ‘But you didn’t do all this yourself?’

  ‘Yes, with the help of a few stockmen.’

  Her father’s eyes narrowed as he studied Harry over his glass of riesling. ‘So you’re still pioneering?’

  Harry’s chest rose as he drew a quick breath. ‘I suppose you could say that, sir.’

  Georgina, dismayed by this grilling, felt compelled to come to Harry’s defence. ‘Don’t you think we should let Harry enjoy his trout in peace, Father? He’s spent five years fighting the King’s enemies, surely he doesn’t have to defend himself here at our dinner table.’

  A chilling silence fell as her parents stared at her, nonplussed. Lady Lenton opened her mouth and then shut it again, as if she’d wanted to snap a retort, but thought the better of it.

  Eventually, Georgina’s father said, ever so politely, ‘You must forgive us, Harry. I daresay our curiosity got the better of us. We know so very little about Australia, you see.’

  ‘I understand that, sir.’

  ‘I’ve bored Richard and Lavinia to tears with my stories about Rabaul and New Britain,’ added Cora with a smile. ‘So they need a new victim.’

  It was time for a change of subject. ‘Harry,’ said Georgina. ‘Perhaps now that the war’s over, you might be able to visit the National Gallery and see your great-grandfather’s painting. What was it called again? “The Dales at Dawn”?’

  She knew this would impress her parents. They were friends with many of the highly skilled artists who chose to live in Cornwall, attracted by the milder climate and the quality of the light.

  Indeed, her father proved more than happy to talk about his private art collection and, to her relief, over the next course of pheasant, followed by a dessert of cherry tart, the dinner conversation successfully stayed in safer waters.

  Harry wasn’t off the hook though, for, of course, her father invited him to withdraw to the library after dinner for port and cigars, and he couldn’t very well refuse.

  After the men disappeared, Georgina was sick with nerves. There was no way she could sit calmly chatting with her mother and Cora, while she wondered what was being said in the library.

  Fortunately, the other women were quite happy to retire, so Georgina could escape. Even so, she paced restlessly in her room, leaving the door open so she could hear the first sound from downstairs that might suggest the men had finished.

  She tried not to guess what they were talking about, but she couldn’t help wondering. Surely her father had to be as curious as she was about why Harry had come all this way. Heaven knew, she wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight without some kind of resolution.

  At last there were footsteps on the tiles downstairs and deep male voices bidding each other goodnight. Breathlessly, she waited by the door. She had no choice but to ambush Harry as he passed by on his way to his room.

  A soft footfall on the carpet outside, and she glided out of the shadows.

  ‘Harry.’

  ‘George, you’re still up?’

  ‘Of course I am. I had to see you. Will you come outside with me?’

  He only hesitated for a second, looking back in the direction of her parents’ rooms. ‘Sure.’

  She had a fur wrap ready and, pulling it around her shoulders, she led the way – back down the stairs, out through a side door and into the bright, starlit night. ‘Let’s go to the boathouse. We can talk there.’

  She wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heartbeats as they made their way together, over the damp lawn, to the little wooden hut beside the lake.

  ‘Was my father too awful?’ She had to ask.

  ‘No, he was perfectly reasonable.’ Just the same, Harry sounded tense.

  ‘But he demanded to know your intentions?’

  After a beat, ‘Yes.’

  It was too dark to read his exp
ression. ‘And?’

  ‘And I told him I needed to speak to you first.’

  ‘Oh.’ This sounded more promising. Georgina almost hugged him with relief.

  It was dark and gloomy inside the boathouse and she opened the little cupboard where lamps and candles were stored.

  ‘Here, let me,’ Harry said, as she fumbled with the matches.

  He struck a match firmly. Light flared and Georgina handed him a candle to light, and then another.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, as she set the candles in a pot of sand to cast their golden glow over the timber walls and floor and the cushion­-lined benches. ‘I can see you now.’

  But what she saw frightened her. Harry was standing stiffly to attention, watching her sadly. Too sadly.

  She felt a knife blade flash of panic. ‘Harry, what is it? What’s the matter?’

  A sigh escaped him. ‘I’m very afraid that I’ve made a regrettable mistake.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  His mouth twisted unhappily and he looked away through the wide doorway to the black glassy surface of the lake and a solitary white swan, limned by starlight.

  Georgina couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear the suspense a moment longer. ‘Harry, please don’t play games.’

  ‘That’s the last thing I want.’

  ‘You are going to ask me to marry you, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s what I’d planned.’ He seemed to speak with difficulty, as if he was dragging the words out. ‘But I realise now that I was fooling myself.’

  ‘Why?’ The single word was a cry, a howl of despair.

  ‘George, I —’

  ‘You love me.’ Georgina didn’t care that she sounded desperate. Harry had told her that he loved her. So many times.

  ‘The thing is, I have so little to offer you.’

  So there it was. Just as she had feared. Harry had been overawed by her family, by the estate, the titles.

  This was all going terribly wrong. Everything she held dearly was slipping out of her grasp.