A Nanny for Keeps
Page 16
‘Oh, right, the way you did.’
‘David Gilchrist is wealthy, good-looking in a stuffed-shirt sort of way, still young. It’s inevitable that he would remarry.’
‘With you in the house I can’t imagine why he ever looked further.’
She laughed. ‘Oh, please. I was the hired help. He probably thinks I’ve found my level with a…what did he call you?’
‘A gentleman farmer.’
‘You didn’t correct him.’
‘I didn’t think he was worth the breath.’ Then, ‘So is Emma content? Did the bracelet compensate her for losing you?’
‘She hasn’t lost me. She understands that now. She just needed to know that I hadn’t deserted her, Harry. Poor Jessica Gilchrist panicked, thought she had to eradicate me totally from their lives before Emma would love her. She didn’t understand that a child’s love is boundless.’
‘It’s that simple?’
‘No. It’ll take time, but I said she could call for a chat any time.’
‘From Hong Kong?’
‘They can afford it.’
‘And what did you tell Emma?’
‘That I’d always love her. That I’ll always be there when she needs me. I don’t have to live in the same house, or even the same country, for that to be true. All she has to do is pick up a phone.’
‘You said she can call any time, too?’
‘Actually, Harry, I did rather more than that. I said she could come and stay in the summer. Do you mind?’
Mind? If Emma was coming it meant that Jacqui would be there.
‘The only thing I care about is whether you’re staying. I thought for a moment back there that I’d lost you.’
‘Did you?’ She looked up at him, eyes steady as a rock. ‘And would you have let me go as easily as Maisie?’
‘No, my love. The Gilchrists were offering you a job. I’m offering you my life. All that I have.’
‘Tell me about the future, Harry,’ she asked, her voice catching like cobwebs in her throat. ‘About the rest of our lives.’
‘Being the wife of a country doctor is not the softest option,’ he said. ‘Nothing like the luxurious lifestyle you’d get in Hong Kong.’ She gave his arm a playful punch. ‘And I know how you dislike chickens…’
‘I’m getting used to the chickens and, excuse me, but was that a proposal?’
‘You want me on my knees?’
She looked down. There was still a muddy patch in the dip at the centre of the drive, but she took pity on him and said, ‘Why don’t we save that for later? When you’re showing me exactly what you meant by that “warmth on a winter night”, thing.’
‘It’s not winter, my love. The sun is shining. Next Sunday is Easter.’
She gave a little shiver. ‘I’ve seen snow at Easter.’
‘Well, now you come to mention it, you could be right. We’ll probably get a frost tonight.’ He put his arm around her as they walked back to the house. ‘Anything else I can do for you?’
‘Well, I really hate that “keep out” sign on the gate.’
‘I’ll get a screwdriver right now.’
‘And we should have a goat, don’t you think?’
‘A goat?’ He laughed. ‘Have you ever tried to milk a goat?’
‘No, but surely it’s mandatory?’ He must have looked puzzled. ‘Every smallholding has to have one.’
‘What makes you think this is a smallholding?’
‘Two fields, five donkeys, one pony and I’ve lost count of the chickens and rabbits.’
He stopped. ‘Look around you.’ She glanced around. ‘No, right around. To the summit of the hill, as far as you can see to left and right. Down as far as the main road.’
He saw light dawning in her eyes. ‘All that? But that includes the village.’
‘It was part of the original estate, but my grandfather gave the villagers their freeholds about fifty years ago. Most of the land is leased to local farmers.’
‘But it’s huge! Can you afford to buy it from your aunt?’
‘At today’s prices I might be struggling, but I bought it from Aunt Kate ten years ago when she wanted to finance Sally’s career.’
‘But she stayed on?’
‘Nothing changed but the ownership. I gave her the legal authority to manage everything as she’d always done and I have to say that she did a good job. I’ve only just discovered that she made me a small fortune by selling off a field close to the village for building land. With the village expanding, there’ll be more. I’ll have to renegotiate the price I paid her to reflect that.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Still want a goat?’
‘Can I upgrade that to a pony for Maisie? One that won’t expire if she sits on it.’
‘I thought we might get her one for her birthday.’
We.
Jacqui thought it was the most beautiful word she’d ever heard and, linking her arm through his, she said, ‘Perfect.’
‘She could probably do with some brothers and sisters, too.’
She glanced up at him. ‘That’s long-term planning.’
‘Since it’s going to be a cold night, we could make a start right away if you like.’ He stopped, took her in his arms. ‘On the planning. Starting with a date for the wedding.’ Then, after a long, lingering kiss that left her in no doubt of his feelings, left her in no doubt of hers, he said, ‘Don’t let’s wait too long.’
June, everyone agreed, was the perfect month for a country wedding. The church had been decorated with flowers courtesy of Selina Talbot in lieu of her presence. She’d married her billionaire and wasn’t interrupting her honeymoon for anyone, not even for Maisie, who had a lead role as bridesmaid.
The lane needed no help. Nature herself had decorated for their special day with white frilly billows of cow parsley, foxgloves, the glowing yellow of tall buttercups.
The posse of small bridesmaids—Maisie and Emma and Jacqui’s nieces, circlets of flowers woven into their hair—was driven down to the church in a trap pulled by a smart little pony.
Jacqui followed a couple of minutes later with her father in another, the harness bedecked with hedgerow flowers.
‘You really didn’t mind me not getting married from home?’ she asked.
Her father squeezed her hand. ‘This is your home, Jacqui. I’ve never seen you happier.’
‘I’m so grateful to you and Mum for staying to take care of Maisie while we’re away.’
‘This is a magical place, sweetheart. We’ll have the time of our lives.’
If the promises were solemn, till-death-us-do-part vows that were pledged not just with the ancient words, but with their eyes, hearts, souls, the revelries that followed were not.
There was no ceremony about the wedding breakfast. The food was laid out in a huge marquee in the flattest field on the estate and everyone just helped themselves. The dancing owed nothing to loud disco music, everything to a group of fiddlers who played reels and jigs that not even the most laid-back teenager could resist.
It went on long after the principle characters had slipped away to begin their honeymoon, a celebration of life, love, all the simple pleasures.
As the lady who ran the village shop said to the vicar’s wife—after several glasses of champagne—it was as if the village had come back to life after a very long winter.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7246-4
A NANNY FOR KEEPS
First North American Publication 2005
Copyright © 2005 by Liz Fielding.
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