He turned slowly to look at his sister. ‘In my absence, you were placed in charge of the estate to work with Jackson. I knew things were difficult, but I had no idea they’d got so bad. Why was I not told? And why, might I ask, have you thought fit to summon me home because of what my wife is doing, rather than because my mother is very ill?’
‘Mama’s old. She’s bound to get sick now and again. Do you want to be summoned every time she has a head cold?’
‘Pneumonia is hardly a cold.’
‘The estate is what matters,’ Dorothea persisted. ‘It’s my son’s inheritance.’
The brother and sister now stared at each other in a battle of wills. But when James said quietly, ‘Or my son’s,’ she gave a strangled sob, turned and rushed from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Annabel went at once to stand in front of James. She put her hands on his chest and looked up into his dark brown eyes. ‘James, I have no wish to come between you and your sister, but I had to do something. Two farms are already empty and at Blackbird Farm, Mr and Mrs Chadwick were about to give up and go into the workhouse in the town.’ She shuddered. ‘I understand the Broughton family are already there. I have arranged for their farmhouse to be cleaned and I intend to bring them home as soon as it is ready. Everyone in the village was hungry. The shops here are closed down and the town’s tradesmen had stopped supplying the village and even this house. My grandfather helped out at first, but I’ve paid what was owed and supplies are now coming into the village again. James, I wouldn’t have done it without your knowledge, but there was just no time to write to you to ask for your approval. People were ill with hunger. If you don’t believe me, ask Mr Jackson – ask the vicar.’
‘I do believe you, Annabel, and I’m grateful to you for what you’ve done. I knew things had got difficult, but I didn’t realize they were quite so serious. I know I should be here running the estate myself, but my life has been the Army. I was never trained to manage the estate. That’ – his face clouded – ‘was supposed to have been my brother’s job. But he squandered his inheritance and left us with a mountain of debts.’ His dark gaze searched her face. ‘But you – you seem to know what you’re doing. How come?’
Swiftly, Annabel told him about the many happy holidays she had spent on her grandfather’s farm, how one day he had promised it would be hers. And how, too, he had instructed her in the intricacies of the stock market and how, happily, she seemed to have a sixth sense for trading and was able to make more money than she ever lost.
‘Trading on the stock market is always a precarious business and over the last few years it has been even more difficult, though things seem to be improving a little now. Under my grandfather’s guidance, I have invested most of my money in the larger, reputable railway companies.’
‘How unfortunate that my late brother didn’t have your foresight,’ James murmured dryly. ‘I understand he lost a lot of money speculating on doomed ventures.’
‘So,’ she asked him at last, ‘have I your approval to carry on with my plans?’
‘Of course, but don’t spend too much time with Jackson, will you? I don’t want him falling in love with my beautiful wife.’
As he bent to kiss her, Annabel felt a thrill of pleasure. There had been a warning note in her husband’s voice that she believed to be the delicious sound of jealousy. Perhaps, after all, she thought as she wound her arms around his neck, he really does love me.
Twenty-Six
The following morning, after a night of passion that left Annabel tired but exhilarated, she took James’s arm happily as they left the house together. She was sure now that he loved her; surely no man could make love to a woman as ardently as he had and not be in love with her. Private Harry Jenkins followed at a discreet distance behind them.
‘I thought I’d bring Jenkins along. He’s a great chap and always likes to be busy. He might be able to help.’
Annabel turned briefly and smiled at the young soldier.
‘Now, now,’ James patted her hand. ‘No flirting with my batman.’
Annabel chuckled. ‘I wasn’t. I only smiled at him.’
‘Well, some young men take that as an invitation, Annabel. I did myself at the ball where we first met.’ He raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘James, I’m a married woman now. I wouldn’t dream of flirting with anyone – except you, of course.’
‘Mind you don’t.’ The words were said jocularly and yet there was a hint of steel about them – a scarcely hidden warning. You’re mine, his tone said, and the thought thrilled her.
From his windows above the archway, Ben Jackson must have noticed them leaving for he hurried to catch up with them and touched his cap politely. ‘Good morning, m’lord – m’lady.’
‘My wife has been telling me all that the two of you have been doing, Jackson.’
Did Annabel imagine it, or was there a veiled threat in the seemingly innocent words?
‘It’s mainly her ladyship, m’lord. She’s doing a wonderful job. But for her—’
James nodded swiftly and interrupted, saying, ‘We’re on our way to have a look at the shops first and then the farms.’
‘I’ll fetch the trap, m’lord. The pony’s harnessed and ready.’
‘You walk with us. Jenkins will fetch the trap.’
After James had given instructions to his batman, the three of them walked down the hill and along the street until they reached the three empty shops and the smithy. After a few moments, Eli Merriman appeared down the narrow passage at the side of his shop. He was scowling and made no move to touch his cap in greeting.
‘Come to give me notice, have ya, your lordship?’ His tone was heavy with sarcasm. ‘And where d’you think I’ll end up? The workhouse, I suppose? But do you care? Nah.’
He spat on the ground, his spittle landing inches from James’s shoes. At least, Annabel thought, this time it had not hit her dress.
His tirade was not finished. ‘Saved your grand house, ain’t she, but she’ll not save my shop and my livelihood, will she? From what I hear, we’re all to be turned out. But who do you reckon will come to take our place, eh? No one in their right senses.’
Before James could answer him, Annabel said, ‘Mr Merriman, it seems you’re rather behind with the latest news. No one is to be given notice and we’re here this morning to see what can be done about these shops and the smithy.’ She turned and looked up at her husband, anxious not to be seen to be taking the lead and belittling him. A wary expression came into Eli Merriman’s eyes and he met James’s gaze.
‘Merriman, I’ll be honest with you. I’m no farmer nor have I experience in estate management. That was supposed to be my brother’s place in life.’
Eli’s frown deepened as he growled, ‘And a fine mess he made of it, an’ all. He’s brought us all to ruin. You included, because unless you get this estate paying its way again, or your fine lady here has a bottomless pit of money, you’re going to lose it all eventually.’
‘Like I say, I’ve no experience in such matters and my life is dedicated to the Army. I want no other, but,’ he went on swiftly as the other man opened his mouth to speak, ‘we are fortunate in that my wife does have the experience needed and, even more importantly, she is willing to spend her own money – over which she has complete control – to help us all.’
Eli’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but still he muttered, ‘Aye, an’ I’ll believe it when I see it.’
‘I’ll bid you “good day” for the moment, Merriman.’
James turned away, pulling Annabel with him as he strode towards the trap that Private Jenkins had brought. However, at that moment, they heard the rattle of another pony and trap and turned to see Dr Maybury driving down the street. Beside him sat a middle-aged woman dressed in a nurse’s uniform.
‘Ah, I’d better have a word,’ James said.
The doctor pulled his vehicle to a halt and climbed down to shake James’s hand. After a
n exchange of greetings, Stephen Maybury said, ‘This is Nurse Newton. She has come to live in at Fairfield Hall to care for your mother for a week or so. We’ll then reassess the situation.’
James nodded to the woman and turned back to the doctor. ‘I’ve seen my mother this morning. She seems to be wandering in her mind. She thought I was Albert, my brother. He was always her favourite.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Reprobate that he was. But she seems very poorly to me. Is there any hope of her recovery?’
‘Good heavens, yes. But she is undernourished and weak because of it. But your wife—’
‘Yes, yes, I know what my wife has been doing.’ Suddenly, James seemed irritated by the compliments being heaped on Annabel’s head. No doubt he felt it reflected badly on him, she supposed. ‘We’re on our way to inspect the farms now, but I’d like to know what you think of my mother today.’
‘I’ll be in the village for the rest of the morning.’
‘Very well. I’ll see you when we get back.’
Ben Jackson took the reins from Private Jenkins and the four of them squeezed into the trap. As they left the village, they passed the lonely cottage and Annabel glanced into the front garden. The boy was there again, but this time his mother was standing beside him, her gaze following the occupants of the trap, and Annabel fancied that the young woman’s gaze was fixed on her husband, James, but he was staring straight ahead and didn’t even seem to see the two people standing in the garden.
There was one other, however, who most certainly did. Even after the trap had passed by, Private Jenkins was craning his neck to stare back at them.
Rebecca Clifton and her helpers had worked hard. A fire burned in a shining black-leaded range in the kitchen at Chaffinch Farm. The walls had been dusted down, cobwebs removed from the ceiling, the floors scrubbed and all the shelves in the pantry had been washed. In the best parlour, the dust had been banged out of the old sofa and chairs and the curtains had been washed and rehung. Upstairs, the beds had been made up with freshly laundered linen and the windows cleaned and flung open to air the rooms.
‘You’ve all done a marvellous job,’ Annabel enthused. ‘Thank you.’
‘We’re about finished here, m’lady. We’re off across to Sparrow Farm now.’
Outside again, James asked, ‘Why are you so effusive with your thanks? They’re being paid.’
‘Actually, James, they’re not. They wouldn’t take payment.’
‘How very philanthropic!’ he murmured, but Annabel chose to ignore his sarcasm.
Adam was already at Sparrow Farm, sorting out the rusty machinery in the barns. He doffed his cap as he emerged into the yard at the sound of the trap.
‘Your lordship.’ For a moment, his tone was wary, as if he feared that James might rescind what his wife and Ben Jackson had agreed. But James sprang out of the back of the trap and held out his hand to the startled young man ‘Cartwright – I’m glad you’ve agreed to have a go at this place. Let her ladyship know if there’s anything you need to set you on your way.’
Annabel smiled, but said nothing, glad that James now seemed to be approving of what had been done. He could very well have moodily countermanded everything she had set in motion, but he had not.
‘We’re very grateful, m’lord. We’ll work that hard and Jim Chadwick’s promised his support. I used to work for him, y’know.’
James looked blank for a moment, seeming as if he didn’t even know who Jim Chadwick was, never mind that Adam had worked on Blackbird Farm. Perhaps he didn’t, Annabel thought, seeing as he’d had little interest in the estate. But James was nothing if not adroit at covering his ignorance. He smiled and nodded.
‘Mrs Clifton and her friends are on their way over to give Betsy a hand in the house, Adam,’ Annabel said, feeling that this would not undermine her husband’s authority. Cleaning, after all, was a woman’s domain.
‘I’m grateful, m’lady,’ Adam said again. ‘Betsy’s in there now. She’s made a start, but she soon gets tired. Their help’ll be a godsend.’ For a moment his eyes clouded. ‘I can’t pay them, though, m’lady.’
‘No need, Adam. They’re doing it out of the goodness of their hearts.’
They drove back to Fairfield Hall.
‘Sir,’ Jenkins asked, as they climbed out of the trap in the courtyard, ‘would you mind if I took a look around the village?’
‘Help yourself.’ James chuckled and was still smiling as Jenkins turned and began to walk through the archway and back down the hill. ‘Don’t be too late back, though. We must leave at four.’
‘What are you laughing at?’ Annabel wanted to know.
‘It hasn’t taken Jenkins long to find out exactly who and what Nancy Banks is.’
‘What!’
He was still smiling. ‘You know about Nancy, don’t you?’
Grimly, Annabel nodded. ‘Enough, but I mean to put a stop to all that. Call him back, James. I won’t have it.’
But James only glanced after the figure of his batman marching determinedly in the direction of the isolated cottage and shrugged. ‘I’ve no intention of stopping him, my dear. A man has his needs.’
Dismayed, Annabel stared after Jenkins. There was nothing she could do, but her heart went out to the solemn, lonely little boy who was witnessing such goings on. She berated herself for not having seen Nancy earlier. She could have stopped it before now, but she had been so concerned with other, more urgent, matters.
‘Come along, Annabel. The doctor’s trap is standing outside the front door. I need to see him.’
Annabel followed him, her mind taken over with sudden anxiety over her mother-in-law. Why was the doctor still there? Was she worse? Fear rose in her throat as she hurried to catch up with her husband’s long strides.
As it turned out, she need not have worried unduly; although Elizabeth was still very poorly, Stephen Maybury assured both her and James that there was a slight sign of improvement. He had installed the nurse, had attended one or two patients in the village and had returned to Fairfield Hall briefly before going back to town to hold his surgery.
‘Nurse Newton will be sleeping in the dressing room next door to Lady Fairfield’s room. She’s an excellent nurse. Your mother is in good hands.’
At luncheon there were the two of them and Dorothea.
‘I thought you had two days’ leave,’ Dorothea remarked and Annabel thought she detected a sly note in her voice.
‘I have,’ James replied easily, ‘but now that I see Mama is in good hands, I have business to attend to in London before returning to barracks.’
‘Business, indeed,’ Dorothea murmured, smirking as she exchanged a knowing look with her brother and leaving Annabel feeling excluded from their shared secrets.
Twenty-Seven
Annabel was sorry to see James leave later that afternoon as she stood on the steps to wave him off. She nodded briefly to Private Jenkins, her lips pursed in disapproval, but when she looked at him more closely, she decided that the young man didn’t look at all happy, certainly not like a man who had just had ‘his needs’, as James had called them, satisfied.
Annabel promised herself that she would visit Nancy as soon as she could. A ‘house of ill-repute’ was not wanted in the village and she was concerned for the little boy’s welfare.
As the trap disappeared down the hill, Annabel went down to the kitchen.
‘Mrs Parrish, can you spare me a moment?’
‘Of course, m’lady.’
How different was her reception in the kitchen to what it had been at first, Annabel mused. ‘I expect you know that the Broughtons of Chaffinch Farm are sadly in the workhouse and—’
Nelly’s face crumpled suddenly and she sat down heavily in a chair.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Concerned, Annabel bent over her. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘M’lady’ – John Searby was at her side – ‘I think I know what has caused Mrs Parrish’s distress.’ Now Nelly was sobbing, covering her face with
her white apron and rocking backwards and forwards. ‘It was you mentioning the workhouse.’
Annabel blinked up at him. ‘Why? Oh’ – a sudden though struck her – ‘was she afraid that she might end up there? Oh, Mrs Parrish, I’d never let that happen.’ She put her hand on the cook’s shoulder but the woman still shook with distress.
‘It’s not that, m’lady,’ John said quietly. ‘It’s her mother. She’s in there.’
Annabel stared up at him, dumbstruck for a moment. ‘Her mother?’ she repeated stupidly. ‘How? I thought she used to be cook here – before Mrs Parrish.’
‘She did.’
‘Then—’ Now Annabel was angry. How could the Lyndon family let someone who had served them loyally end up in the workhouse? She was appalled and not for the first time since her arrival here.
‘She lived in the village in a grace and favour house near the smithy. Old Lord Fairfield always used to look after his servants when they retired, but –’ John hesitated and fell silent.
‘I see,’ Annabel said grimly. And she did – only too well.
She turned back to the cook and put her arm around her shoulders. ‘I’ll bring her home, Mrs Parrish. Get Annie to clean that spare bedroom in the staff quarters and make up a bed. She can stay here until we can get her back into her own cottage.’
Nelly lowered her apron to stare up into Annabel’s face. ‘You’d do that?’ she whispered. ‘For me? After—’
‘Now, now, that’s all forgotten. Dry your tears because I want you to help me organize some food for the Broughtons when I get them home. Is there anyone else from the village who is in the workhouse?’
Nelly and John exchanged a glance. ‘There is one,’ he said hesitantly.
‘Who?’
When he still seemed reluctant to say more, Annabel glanced at Nelly.
‘Tell her, Mr Searby. She’ll hear anyway.’
‘Mrs Banks.’
Annabel frowned for a moment and then said, ‘Do you mean Nancy’s mother?’
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