Fairfield Hall

by Margaret Dickinson

  Slowly, he raised his head. ‘My help, m’lady? How can I help you?’

  ‘Because, Ben, you and I are going to revive the fortunes of this estate, the village and everyone in it.’

  ‘I don’t see how you can. If what I’ve heard is true, that money has been used to pay a substantial amount off the loan on Fairfield Hall and the estate. I heard a whisper that the bank was about to foreclose and the Lyndons were going to be –’ he ran his tongue around his lips in embarrassment – ‘evicted.’

  ‘But you see, Ben, I have money of my own. My grandfather taught me to buy and sell shares, which I still do. I seem to have an intuitive sense of what will make money and what will lose. I have built up a rather nice little nest egg for myself and have been able to invest some of that money in secure stocks, which give me a steady income.’ She smiled. ‘I still like the thrill of playing the stock market, but I certainly don’t ever risk a huge amount at any one time.’

  ‘But why should you spend your money on folks who are nothing to do with you and who probably won’t appreciate it anyway?’

  ‘Whether they like it or not, Ben – in fact, whether I like it or not – they are now my people. And, as you rightly say, if I am blessed with a son, he will one day inherit.’

  Ben began to smile slowly, but then his face clouded. ‘Then beware of your new sister-in-law, m’lady. She is adamant that her son, Master Theodore, will one day inherit. She didn’t want James to marry you – or anyone else, for that matter. But she had no choice. The way things were going there would have been nothing to pass on to the lad anyway – except perhaps a worthless title. She was forced to give in – and she did – but certainly not gracefully.’

  ‘That explains a lot,’ Annabel murmured as she got up. ‘I’ll let you rest now, Ben. You’ve had a busy day. But I would like to go into the town first thing tomorrow morning.’

  He rose too. ‘I’ll take you, m’lady.’

  Annabel shook her head. ‘No; if you harness the trap, I’ll drive myself, because I’d like you to stay and help my grandfather when he returns. And now,’ she said with an ironic grimace, ‘I’d better go and face the lioness in her den.’

  Eighteen

  When Annabel entered the house by the side door and went down to the basement kitchen, Jane ran to her at once, tears flooding down her face.

  ‘Oh miss, thank goodness you’ve come.’

  ‘Whatever’s the matter? What’s happened?’ She glanced beyond Jane to see the grim faces of John Searby and Nelly Parrish. Even Annie and Luke seemed subdued.

  ‘We don’t want a thief in our midst, m’lady,’ Nelly said.

  ‘A thief?’ Annabel was shocked, even though, since Ben’s revelations, she’d thought that nothing could surprise her again. ‘Whatever are you talking about?’

  ‘Her!’ Nelly Parrish pointed an accusing finger at Jane. ‘Where’s she got soup and bread from, I’d like to know?’

  ‘She’s pinched ’em, that’s where,’ Annie said spitefully. ‘Taken ’em from folks who’re already starving, I’ll be bound.’

  ‘You may certainly know, Mrs Parrish. Please sit down – all of you – and I’ll explain.’

  ‘I tried to tell them, miss, but they wouldn’t listen.’ Jane was still sobbing. ‘They wouldn’t believe me.’

  ‘Wait till Lady Dorothea hears about this. You’ll be out on your ear, girl.’ Nelly was still vitriolic, but the four servants sat down grudgingly at the table to listen to what Annabel had to say.

  ‘The food has all come from my grandfather’s farm . . .’ Annabel began, and she went on to explain the events that had taken place down in the village since all those from Fairfield Hall had gone home after church.

  ‘And he will be back again tomorrow with more supplies and, first thing in the morning, I am taking the trap into town. I shall visit all the tradesmen and get them to start delivering not only to this house, but to all the villagers too.’

  ‘They’ll not do that, m’lady.’ John shook his head. ‘They’ll all want paying before they’ll supply any more goods to anyone in Fairfield and that includes us.’

  ‘Then they’ll be paid,’ Annabel said promptly.

  ‘What with?’ Annie smirked. ‘Fresh air? ’Cos that’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘I shall pay them.’

  ‘How?’ Nelly asked. ‘Your dowry’s been swallowed up rescuing this place.’ She cast her eyes to the ceiling. ‘You’ll not be able to touch it.’

  Annabel thought quickly, anxious not to let Ben down. She had given him her solemn promise. But she was on safe ground for the moment. It seemed they all believed she knew about the dowry that had come with her marriage to Lord Lyndon.

  Airily, she said, ‘I have some money of my own I intend to use.’

  ‘Then you’d best not let Lady Dorothea hear about it,’ Nelly warned. ‘She doesn’t think the dowry was enough anyway. If she hears you’ve got more – she’ll want it. She dun’t care about the villagers. All that matters to her is her precious son’s inheritance; this house and the estate.’

  Annabel rose. ‘Then I think it’s high time I had a conversation with my sister-in-law. In the meantime, please use the food which Jane brought. It has been obtained honestly, I promise you.’

  Without another word, Annabel turned and left the room. She hoped the servants would have the grace to apologize to Jane, but she doubted it. They were a surly lot and no mistake. But, the kindly young woman told herself, they had good reason to be after the hardships they had endured recently.

  Annabel found Dorothea alone in the morning room, crouched in front of a dying fire, a thick shawl round her shoulders. She looked up malevolently as Annabel entered. ‘What do you want?’

  Annabel crossed the room and sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the hearth to her sister-in-law, suppressing a shiver as she did so; the room was undeniably cold for the time of year.

  ‘I want to talk to you, Dorothea. There’s something very strange going on here and I want to know what it is.’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘I think it is,’ Annabel said softly, but there was a hint of steel in her tone. Dorothea must have noticed it, for she looked up and met Annabel’s steady gaze.

  ‘You’d do best to go back to your folks,’ she snapped and then added grudgingly, ‘at least until James comes home again.’

  ‘My place is here now and I intend to stay, but I also intend to help you and your son, and your mother and the villagers.’

  Dorothea’s thin mouth curled in a sneer. ‘And how do you propose to do that? Unless you’re a millionairess, you won’t be able to do anything.’ She gazed into the sorry fire that glowed, but gave out little warmth. ‘We had logs to burn for a while, but none of the men have the strength to cut down any more trees now.’ Her tone hardened. ‘Though I expect those idle beggars in the village could, if they wanted to. Still, they’ll all be gone soon. We’ll get new tenants who can pay their rent and work the land again.’

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’ Annabel asked, copying Dorothea’s own wording. She kept her voice level and calm, though inside she was seething at the woman’s callousness.

  Dorothea’s eyes narrowed. ‘Jackson should already have given them all notice.’ She held Annabel’s gaze but the latter said nothing in response. She rather thought that Ben Jackson had not carried out those orders; if he had done so, Annabel would have heard about it today. She smothered a smile. Jabez Fletcher would have been the first to say something, she was sure.

  ‘Your dowry,’ Dorothea’s tone was scathing, ‘such as it was – has helped us secure the bank loan on this house and the estate, but it wasn’t enough’ – her tone became accusatory now – ‘to cover the rents that haven’t been paid for months.’ She sniffed. ‘Still, my son’s inheritance is secure for the moment and, once we get some new tenants, things should improve.’

  Annabel, with her head on one side and being careful not to give too mu
ch away, eyed the woman. ‘What do you mean – your son’s inheritance?’

  ‘Theodore will inherit after James.’

  Annabel frowned. James had told her he wanted a son of his own. He had been adamant about it. And their wedding night – and her first night at Fairfield – had seemed to bear out that fact. For the moment Annabel decided to hold her tongue; she would ask no questions. It seemed, however, that Dorothea could not keep silent. She wanted to plunge the knife into Annabel; she was determined to be rid of James’s unwanted bride. The family had her money now; that was all any of them had needed or wanted.

  Dorothea’s eyes gleamed with spite as she said, ‘James may have told you he wants a son, but he has promised me that my son will be his heir. He swore he would not consummate his marriage to you and – after an appropriate interval – he will have the marriage annulled on those grounds.’

  Annabel was appalled and, even though she had quelled her anger thus far, now she could not suppress a shocked gasp. She bit her lip, deliberately holding back any retort. She was not even going to try to score points against this manipulative woman. Only time would prove that already James had broken his promise to his sister. With great dignity, Annabel rose and looked down at the woman still kneeling in front of the fire.

  ‘Despite what you obviously feel about me and your plans for me, Dorothea, I am not a vindictive person. Everyone in this house – including you and your son – need my help. And you shall have it.’

  Before the woman could make any further comment, Annabel turned away with a swish of her skirts and left the room.

  Annabel spent a restless night and awoke early the following morning. She dressed quickly and crept down the stairs to the kitchen where she helped herself to a drink of milk before letting herself quietly out of the side door. Ben was near the stables, just finishing harnessing the pony into the shafts of the trap.

  ‘’Morning, m’lady. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Ben, really. I’d sooner you were here to help my grandfather.’

  For a moment, Ben leaned against the side of the trap. He looked weak. Annabel sighed inwardly, but decided to say nothing. She climbed into the back and, as Ben moved away, she picked up the reins and urged the animal forward, calling out, ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Give Grandfather my love – and thanks.’

  Ben nodded and raised his hand as she pulled away. She drove at a steady pace down the slope, through the village and past the lonely cottage on the outskirts. Once more the solemn-faced little boy was alone in the front garden, kicking a ball. Annabel waved and smiled at him, but there was no response. He just stood very still and stared after her until she rounded a corner and disappeared from his sight. It was the first time anyone from the village had even acknowledged his existence.

  The pony picked up speed of his own accord and soon they were bowling along the country lanes. Annabel lifted her face to the early morning sun. Ahead of her she saw the figures of two men walking towards the town. One she recognized as Jabez Fletcher and the other one, though she did not know his name, had been in church sitting beside Jabez. As she drew level with them, she pulled on the reins and the pony slowed its pace.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Fletcher. Are you both going into the town? May I take you there?’

  Jabez stopped and squinted up at her against the early morning sun. ‘Now, why should you want to do a thing like that, my lady?’

  The man beside him stopped, too, and after a quick glance at Annabel he sank down onto the grass verge and dropped his head into his hands.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I, Mr Fletcher? Five miles is a long way for anyone to walk twice a day.’ She nodded towards the other man. ‘Your companion looks in need of a ride in my trap. Please’ – she moved a little to make room for them both – ‘climb in.’

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jabez looked down at the other man, who was much younger than him, but who looked even more exhausted. Jabez sighed and offered his hand to help him up. He almost lifted him into the trap and then climbed in himself.

  ‘This is Josh Parrish, Nelly Parrish’s nephew. He’s not well this morning, m’lady, but since we’re the only two in the village who have work in the town, we have to try to get there.’ He glanced at Annabel and seemed to have to force the words as he added reluctantly, ‘We’re grateful for the ride.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at home if you’re not well?’ Annabel said to the young man. ‘Dr Maybury will be visiting again today and—’

  ‘There’s nowt wrong with him that a good, square meal won’t put right.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll soon have you fit again, Mr Parrish. I’m on my way into town now to have supplies sent to the village. By tonight – with my grandfather’s help as well – there should be enough for everyone, even though you’ll all have to take it steadily at first like the doctor advised.’

  ‘They’ll want paying first,’ Jabez grunted, ‘afore they’ll give you a crumb.’

  ‘Then they’ll be paid, Mr Fletcher.’

  He stared at her, dumbfounded for once. ‘Why?’ he said at last. ‘Why are you doing this for folks you don’t even know?’

  Annabel smiled. ‘I don’t know you yet, but I soon will. You’re my people now and I intend to help you.’

  ‘Jackson telled me that he’s supposed to have given us all notice ’cos none of us have paid any rent for months.’

  ‘Well, if he does – and I sincerely hope he doesn’t – then just ignore the notices. You’re staying – all of you – though there is one thing you could do for me, Mr Fletcher.’

  ‘Aye, I thought there’d be a catch.’

  Annabel smiled. ‘No catch, I promise, but I just want you to give me a chance. That’s all I ask. You seem to be the – um – spokesman for the villagers and I’d like you on my side. Do you think you could do that?’

  Josh nudged the older man and muttered, ‘She’s the only chance we’ve got, Jabez. And she’s already saved Adam’s little babby’s life. Only another few hours and –’ He bit his lip and Annabel saw tears well in the young man’s eyes.

  Jabez stared at her for a long moment and then slowly his wrinkled face, as if it was unused to it, began to smile. ‘Aye, m’lady. I’ll give it a try, but I’ll be watching . . .’

  ‘That’s fair enough.’ Annabel smiled and flicked the reins to make the pony trot a little faster.

  Nineteen

  Annabel left the two men outside their place of work – the town’s smithy. As she drew away she was thoughtful. She wondered what the background of the two men was and she made a mental note to ask Ben. But then her mind turned to what she had to do today. Her first call was at the stockbroker’s.

  It was lucky – very lucky – that this was the same town where her grandfather banked and where his stockbroker had his office. Through Edward Armstrong, she knew both the stockbroker, Mr Parker, and the bank manager, Mr Hoyles. Both men would receive her courteously, though whether they would be helpful was another matter.

  Mr Parker greeted her as an old friend. He’d watched her grow from a young girl, when Edward had first brought her to meet him, into the beautiful and poised young woman she was now. As she was shown into his office and sat down in front of his desk, she smiled at him. But now, he regarded her solemnly over the top of his steel-framed spectacles. ‘I understand you are to be congratulated on your marriage, Lady Fairfield?’

  It didn’t sound as though he were actually congratulating her but Annabel smiled anyway and thanked him prettily. Then he sighed as he said heavily, ‘I take it you’ve come to transfer your holdings into your husband’s name?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Annabel replied firmly. ‘Thanks to the Married Women’s Property Act I can now manage my own affairs and I intend to do so, though I believe you’ll need my grandfather’s signature until I reach twenty-one?’

  Mr Parker’s expression lightened a little, but his
eyes were still wary. ‘Then I take it you’re here merely to alter your name on all the documentation.’

  ‘Partly – but I need to sell some shares to raise some capital quickly.’

  Mr Parker raised his eyebrows. ‘I – see,’ he said slowly and Annabel could see that he was dying to ask why, but was far too circumspect to do so. He managed and advised Annabel on her stock holding, but it was not his business to ask why she wanted to sell some of her shares and at the present time, Annabel was not prepared to confide in him. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him – he was a fine stockbroker – but she feared he might try to persuade her not to spend her money in the way she intended.

  Mr Hoyles was a different matter. When, over an hour later, she entered his office, the large, ebullient bank manager greeted her with outstretched arms and a kiss on both cheeks.

  ‘I don’t greet all my customers like that,’ he laughed, his double chin wobbling. ‘But you are rather a special young lady to me – have been ever since your grandfather first brought you to this bank to open an account for you on your tenth birthday. And your account has grown steadily over the years and more rapidly recently, with your clever stock market deals.’ He gestured towards the chair in front of his desk, inviting her to sit down, then took his place behind the desk, dropping heavily into a chair that squeaked protestingly. He leaned back and linked his fingers across his rotund stomach and smiled benignly at her. ‘And what can I do for you today, my dear? I presume you wish to change your name on your accounts in view of your recent marriage.’

  ‘That and other things, Mr Hoyles,’ Annabel said, drawing off her gloves. Now here was a man in whom she was happy to confide completely. Indeed, she was obliged to do so for she needed his help.

  ‘I don’t know whether you know or not,’ she began, for this was not her father’s bank, ‘that upon my recent marriage, my father paid my husband a substantial dowry. I understand that it was supposed to rescue the ailing Fairfield Estate.’ She spoke calmly and rationally even though deep inside her was a burning resentment against the two men who had treated her so callously for their own ends. But for the moment, her mind was not on herself but on the starving villagers. ‘It seems, however,’ she went on, ‘that that money has been used solely to safeguard Fairfield Hall and the estate.’