by Dilly Court
‘I have to rejoin my regiment in the New Year, but I think we’ll be returning to England in February. We’ll get to know each other all over again. I’ll bring you flowers and gifts, if that’s what you want.’
‘No,’ Rose said firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Max, but I don’t want to marry you.’ She pressed the ring into his hand and headed for the door.
‘You need more time,’ Max called after her. ‘But I won’t wait for ever.’
Maria caught up with her at the foot of the stairs. ‘Rose, you’re upset and it was stupid of Max to spring it on you like that. Maybe he’s right and you ought to give yourself time to think it over.’
Rose shook her head. ‘I’ll always be fond of Max, but marriage is out of the question. I won’t change my mind.’
Rose sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her left hand, naked now that she had returned the ring to Max. His proposal had caught her off guard and she was annoyed with him for putting her in such an invidious position. Even so, she could have handled the situation better, but she had made her decision and she still had a job to do. Eugene had reminded her that he needed her next piece on the Norman family, and she must put personal feelings aside.
She made herself comfortable and reached for the notebook and pencil she kept on a table at the side of her bed. She started to write, continuing the story with Harry’s visit to the ophthalmologist, but it was incomplete – there was no happy ending – there was no Christmas miracle. They had left the family with food for a few days only and then they would be back where they started, unless Winnie Norman had a change of heart. If Eugene fulfilled his promise of finding Harry work at Greenfields, with a cottage for the family, there was hope for them, but everything had been left hanging in the balance. She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes.
The sound of Maria’s voice awakened Rose with a start and she sat up in bed. ‘What time is it?’
Maria placed a cup of tea on the table and went to draw back the curtains, allowing a stream of sunlight to filter through the small windowpanes. ‘It’s nearly nine o’clock.’ She turned to look at her with a wry smile. ‘You must have been exhausted. You went to bed fully clothed.’
Rose glanced down at the bodice of her best gown and pulled a face. ‘Oh, heavens! I was trying to complete my article for the paper and I must have dozed off.’
‘Your job means a lot to you, doesn’t it, Rose?’
‘Yes, I suppose it does.’
‘Even more than Max?’
‘I’m sorry for making a scene last evening, but Max took me unawares. He shouldn’t have proposed in front of everyone.’
‘By everyone, do you mean Eugene?’
Rose shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Please don’t say things like that. It makes things even more confusing.’
Maria perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Max said he would come back this morning. You two need to talk, Rose. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘I expect you’re right, but it won’t make any difference to the way I feel. I’ll get up and make myself presentable.’
Maria leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. ‘I know I don’t have to remind you, but this house belongs to Caroline and she might not allow you to stay here if you’ve upset her brother. I know it sounds petty, but Max could turn you out if he chose to do so.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘You’re more than welcome to come and live with me, but if you do I’ll have to ask for a contribution to the household. I’m sorry, Rose, but Theo isn’t a wealthy man, and I could only afford to keep the Spriggs sisters because I paid them so little.’
‘Of course,’ Rose said earnestly. ‘I understand perfectly, and I’ll ask Eugene for more assignments. I’ll pay my way.’
‘Thank you. I hate to bring up the subject of money, but one has to be practical.’ Maria rose to her feet and made her way to the door. ‘I’m sure everything will work out for the best. You might even change your mind about Max if you spend more time together. Maybe it’s all been a silly mistake.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rose was sitting on the window seat in the parlour, trying hard to think of a suitable ending for her piece. Outside the sun was shining palely from a cloudless opal sky, and the river looked quite benign at the turn of the tide. Small craft and large boats, barges and wherries were on the move, despite the bank holiday. There were patches of rapidly melting snow in sheltered spots, but the wharf was largely clear. She had a sudden desire to put on her bonnet and cape and go for a long walk in order to clear her head. Her nerves were on edge, and any moment she expected to see Max striding towards the house as if he had not a care in the world. She knew him well enough to realise that he was not one to give up easily, especially when his pride was hurt, and Maria’s words had made her understand the gravity of her situation. Supporting herself in London on the money she might earn writing for the Leader was a daunting prospect, and one she had not faced until now. The unpalatable truth was that she could neither afford the upkeep of the Captain’s House nor the wages she would have to pay Cora and Flossie.
The sound of someone knocking on the front door brought her back to earth, and she jumped to her feet. If it was Max it would be best if they spoke freely without interruption. She hurried to open the front door, but the speech she had prepared went out of her head when she saw Eugene standing on the top step.
‘May I come in?’
‘Of course.’ Rose stood aside, closing the door after him. ‘I was in the parlour, trying to complete the article on the Norman family.’ She followed him into the room. ‘You haven’t allowed me much time to get it finished.’
‘As a matter of fact I came to collect you, Rose. I don’t want to upset your fiancé’s plans, but I promised the Normans I’d take them to Greenfields, and today seems as good a day as any.’
‘It’s all right. I have no plans, other than finishing this wretched piece. I’m stuck – I admit it.’
‘Don’t worry. It happens to us all at times, and all you need is fresh material. Get your bonnet and cloak, and you’ll need gloves and a muffler, too. There’s a chilly wind.’
‘We’re going to Greenfields now?’
‘I sent the barouche to collect the family. We’ll travel in my Tilbury, but I left a youth holding the horse’s reins, so if you could hurry it would be much appreciated, Munday. We have work to do.’
Eugene’s casual manner came as a pleasant contrast to the tension she had felt when in Max’s company, and she uttered a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll just tell Maria where I’m going and I’ll be ready in two ticks.’
‘I’m not taking you away from anything important, am I, Munday?’ Eugene handed her into the Tilbury. Taking the reins from the boy who had been minding the carriage, Eugene tossed him a coin and climbed in beside her.
‘No,’ Rose said airily. ‘I had nothing planned.’
‘I was afraid your fiancé would object to us working together.’
‘I returned his ring. I was taken by surprise when he proposed in front of everyone and I meant to say no, but I found myself nodding. I rectified my mistake.’
‘So you’re a free woman?’
She smiled. ‘I am, and I’m determined to work hard and prove myself to be as capable a journalist as any of my male counterparts.’
‘Now there’s a challenge, Munday. Perhaps you could start by persuading Winnie Norman that a move to the country would be in their best interests. I’m certain it would benefit Harry and the youngsters, but Winnie is proud and independent. I think you might talk to her on equal terms.’
‘You think I’m proud and independent?’
‘I’d say that sums you up, Munday.’
Rose sat back, watching him handle the reins with surprising expertise, which became even more apparent when they left the crowded city streets and headed out into the country. The lanes were deeply rutted, and the bare hedgerows were in stark contrast to the snow-covered fields. Rose pointed to a solitary
scarecrow that had been abandoned to the mercy of the elements. ‘Just look at that poor thing. He looks so sad and lonely.’
Eugene glanced over his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Rose. I draw a line at rescuing solitary scarecrows.’
‘He isn’t alone,’ Rose said, laughing. ‘He has a robin perched on the crown of his hat.’
‘That’s a relief. I won’t have to worry then.’
‘If I lived round here I would find the scarecrow a place in a nice warm barn, where he could spend the rest of the winter.’
‘I’ll make that Harry’s first job.’
‘Do you mean to say that this is your land?’
‘I am a countryman at heart, and yes this is part of Greenfields. We’re nearly there.’
Rose leaned forward in order to get a better view. In the distance she could see ornate red-brick chimneys rising from a slate roof with smoke spiralling up into the azure sky. ‘Is that your home, Gene?’
‘That is Greenfields. It’s a sixteenth-century farmhouse with bits added on by successive generations.’
Rose studied his profile as he encouraged the horse to a brisk trot. ‘You love it, don’t you? I can tell by the tone of your voice.’
He shot her a sideways glance. ‘My family have lived and farmed here for over two hundred years.’
‘But your father is in the diplomatic service.’
‘He wanted nothing to do with the land, although he’s happy to accept the income it provides, which is a pittance compared to the fortune my mother inherited.’ He reined in the horse and leaped off the box to open a pair of wrought-iron gates. ‘Welcome to Greenfields, Rose.’
Having led the animal a little way along a wide drive, Eugene climbed back onto his seat and flicked the reins. ‘Walk on.’ He turned to Rose with a smile of genuine pleasure. ‘We’ve beaten the barouche so I’ll be able to take you on a tour of the house before the Normans arrive.’
‘That would be lovely.’ Rose took in every detail of the rambling two-storey, half-timbered house and fell instantly in love with Greenfields. As she alighted on the gravel forecourt she felt as if she had come home at last, and yet this was the first time she had set foot on the property. ‘It must be so beautiful in the summer,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve always wanted to own a house with roses growing round the door.’ She came to a halt as she spotted a clump of pure white flowers growing in a sheltered bed. ‘Flowers in December – can you believe that?’
Eugene followed her gaze. ‘They call them Christmas roses. I’ve always loved them since I was a boy. Greenfields is noted for them.’ He handed the reins to a young boy who had come running from somewhere at the rear of the building. ‘Take good care of him, Finn.’
‘This is such a lovely place,’ Rose said enthusiastically. ‘I can’t wait to see inside.’
Eugene made a move towards the metal-studded oak door, which opened as if by magic. ‘Mrs Cardew – one step ahead of me, as always.’
To Rose’s surprise, Eugene gave the small, thin woman a hug and she responded with a giggle and a blush colouring her sallow cheeks.
‘Mr Eugene, you’re embarrassing me in front of your young lady.’
‘No,’ Rose said hastily. ‘I’m not …’
Eugene turned to her with a wide smile. ‘Rose, I wanted you to meet the woman who kept me on the straight and narrow during my salad days when I was a wild youth.’
‘And you’re not too old for a slap on the wrist now, sir.’ Mrs Cardew glowered at him, but Rose did not miss the twinkle in the older woman’s grey eyes.
‘How do you do, ma’am? I’m very pleased to meet you.’
‘Well, that goes for me, too, miss. Won’t you come in out of the cold?’ Mrs Cardew turned on Eugene with a mock frown. ‘Where are you manners, sir?’
Eugene stood aside while Mrs Cardew ushered Rose into the stone-flagged hall. The first thing she noticed was the scent of burning pine logs and of lavender, hung in great bunches, from the oak beams. The heat from a fire blazing up the chimney was more than welcome, but Rose had little time to admire the stone mantelshelf or the carved antique furniture. Mrs Cardew led her at speed along a narrow wainscoted passageway and Rose was shown into the drawing room.
‘Now then, I’m going to the kitchen to order tea and cakes for the young lady,’ Mrs Cardew said, still glowering at Eugene, who had followed them without protest. ‘She must be hungry after such a long journey in the freezing cold. Lord knows why you didn’t bring her in the barouche, sir. And don’t tell me any more about the deserving family of the soldier blinded in battle, because I reserve judgement on whether or not they should be given such open-handed treatment.’ Mrs Cardew whisked out of the room, leaving Rose and Eugene gazing fixedly into space, but when the door closed they broke down into laughter.
‘You see how I’m treated,’ Eugene said, shaking his head.
‘I see a woman who clearly adores you, and treats you like a naughty schoolboy. I think it’s very touching, Gene.’
‘You’re right, I suppose, but it does get a little tiresome. However, I wouldn’t hurt Cardy’s feelings for the world.’
Rose went to stand by the fire, warming her hands. ‘This is a delightful room. It has such a lovely mellow atmosphere. It’s wonderful to think of the generations of your family who have lived here, and the dramas that must have happened in this very room.’ She glanced at the highly polished floorboards, gleaming with the patina of centuries of loving care, and the comfortable chairs and sofas upholstered in handcrafted tapestries. Outside she caught a glimpse of a parterre garden, blanketed in snow, with the occasional stone statue standing naked but oblivious to the cold.
Eugene crossed the floor and took her by the hand. ‘Let’s escape for a few minutes, and I’ll show you the rest of the house. It’s not huge, but there are plenty of places to hide, as I discovered when I was a boy.’
‘I’d love to see everything, but we mustn’t offend Mrs Cardew.’
‘Cardy is used to me, Rose. I don’t know how I’d manage without her.’
Hand in hand they crept out of the room like a pair of naughty children, and Rose entered the world that belonged exclusively to Eugene. He showed her the gun room, lined with trophies from the past, and the garden room where empty jardinières begged to be filled once again with exotic indoor plants. The still room and the boot room were at the back of the house, as were the kitchen and the larders and store rooms. The servants greeted them with smiling faces, which was a startling contrast to the underlings employed in Tavistock Square, who were trained to avoid eye contact with their superiors and only to speak when spoken to.
From the servants’ hall to the rooms upstairs, Greenfields was not luxuriously appointed, but it had a lived-in, comfortable atmosphere. Rose could have spent all day happily exploring, but from one of the attic rooms they saw the barouche drawing to a halt outside, and they raced downstairs to greet the visitors.
Winnie Norman was clutching Daisy in her arms as if afraid to put her down, and Mary clung to her mother’s skirts, while Benny and Billy lingered behind, gazing round as if stunned by the size and comparative opulence of their surroundings. Giddings led Harry into the entrance hall with a pained expression on his face.
‘Thank you, Giddings,’ Mrs Cardew said firmly. ‘When Simms has stabled the horses you’ll receive sustenance in the servants’ hall.’
Giddings nodded and marched off, head held high. Rose noted that he closed the front door quietly behind him, and she smiled. It seemed that everyone was in awe of the formidable Mrs Cardew, apart from Eugene.
Eugene stepped forward to shake Harry’s hand. ‘Welcome to Greenfields. I’ll show you round the farm and gardens later, but first I’m sure you’d all like something to eat and drink. Mrs Cardew has kindly had refreshments laid out for you in the drawing room, so if you’d like to follow Rose she’ll take you there while I have a quick word with Harry. We’ll join you in a moment.’
Mrs Cardew bustled to the fore. �
��I’d better go first, in case you’ve forgotten the way, miss. The old house, with its twisting passages, can be confusing. Follow me, children, and don’t touch anything.’
Rose realised that she had been put firmly in her place, but she could hardly blame the woman, who seemed to have been Eugene’s surrogate mother in his formative years. She followed them, trying to imagine Elizabeth Sheldon living in the old farmhouse and failing. Eugene’s mother was a beautiful, charming woman with all the social graces, but she lacked warmth and empathy, and perhaps that explained why her son and daughter had grown up searching for something they had lacked in childhood. Rose reached the drawing room just as Mrs Cardew was leaving. She looked her in the eye and smiled.
‘Thank you, ma’am, and don’t worry, I’ll watch the young ones. I used to help to keep order in my guardian’s school, so I know what to expect.’
‘Thank you, Miss Rose. That’s a weight off my mind. I dare say they mean no harm, but I can’t abide sticky fingerprints on the furniture, and some of the family heirlooms are priceless.’
Rose entered the room to find the children lined up on the sofa like dolls in a shop window, their hands clasped in their laps while they gazed fixedly at the plate of small cakes set before them on a low table. Winnie had taken a seat in an armchair by the fire and young Daisy had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Rose decided to take charge. She gave each child a plate with two cakes on it and she poured tea for Winnie, placing the cup and saucer on a table at the side of her chair, and adding a plate of cakes.
‘This is a very grand house, miss,’ Winnie said in a low voice. ‘I should feel more at home in the kitchen.’
Rose pulled up a stool and sat next to her. ‘If you aren’t comfortable with this you must say so. I know you want to do the best for Harry, but you and the children must come first.’
‘Ta, miss. I’ve hardly slept for worrying. It’s kind of Mr Eugene, but I’m a Londoner born and bred, and I don’t know how I’d get on in the country.’