‘Fine, m’lady. And babby’s doing grand. The doctor still calls in every day.’
‘Good.’ Now Annabel turned to Adam. ‘You know that Sparrow Farm has been empty for some time, don’t you?’
He nodded.
‘We wondered if you would like to take on the tenancy?’
Adam’s mouth dropped open and he stared at her. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. Mr Chadwick – and Ben here – think that with a little help, you’d be the ideal person. And the farm would be a good place for your family to grow up. I understand that your eldest boy will be able to help out a little and, when he’s a little older, there’ll be permanent work for him.’
Adam sat down suddenly in a nearby chair as if his legs had given way beneath him. ‘Oh m’lady, do you really mean it?’
‘Of course I do, Adam.’ She chuckled. ‘You’ll find that I never say anything I don’t mean. Now, what do you think?’
Adam turned to look at Betsy, who was staring at her husband, her hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears of joy.
‘D’you think we could do it, love? It’d be a lot of hard work and a big responsibility.’
‘We’ll give you all the help and support you need, Adam,’ Annabel said softly. ‘I promise.’ She could see that the young man longed to say yes – she could see it in his eyes – but that the prospect was daunting.
Betsy put her arms around her husband and leaned down to put her cheek against his hair. ‘It’d be wonderful,’ she whispered.
Slowly, Adam stood up and held out his hand, his voice husky as he said, ‘I’m honoured at your trust in me, m’lady, and I’d like to accept your kind offer.’
Annabel put her small hand into his work-worn paw and smiled up at him. ‘You won’t be paying any rent until the farm starts to prosper, Adam, so don’t worry about that. Mr Jackson will draw up the tenancy agreement and you can move in as soon as you can, though the house does need a little cleaning.’ She turned to Betsy. ‘And don’t you go overtiring yourself doing that. We’ll get you some help.’
With a sudden movement, Betsy flung her arms around a startled Annabel and sobbed against her shoulder, but now she wept tears of joy.
‘Oh m’lady, how can we ever thank you?’
‘Seeing the baby – and all of you – thriving at Sparrow Farm, will be thanks enough,’ Annabel said, patting Betsy’s shoulder.
‘Now, there’s one happy family,’ Ben said as they left the Cartwrights’ small cottage and walked down the street together. ‘What now, m’lady?’
They came to a stop in front of the three empty shops and, beside them, was the building that had once been the village smithy and wheelwright’s business. All were closed and shuttered. Annabel stood in the middle of the road with her hands on her hips. ‘Tell me about these premises, Ben.’
Ben pointed to each of them in turn. ‘They’re all tenanted properties, just like all the houses. That was the grocer’s run by Ozzy Greenwood. He took it over from his father. Made a good job of it an’ all, but when folks stopped buying, there was no point in trying to carry on. He was losing more money than he was making. He’s still in the village. He never married and he lives with his widowed mother in the first cottage this side of the church. The rooms over the shop were occupied by the dressmaker –’ He hesitated before adding, ‘That was Nancy Banks and her mother before Albert Lyndon gave them the cottage. I don’t know whether you know, m’lady – I don’t think I said before – but Mrs Banks used to be the housekeeper up at the big house and Nancy was a housemaid. When the – um – trouble happened, they left and came to live here for a while. Nancy had the babby here, but then when things started to go wrong for the whole estate, the dressmaking business failed. It was then Albert gave her the cottage. At least they had a roof over their heads, but nothing else. And – well – you know the rest.’ He cleared his throat and went on, ‘So this shop premises is completely empty. The next one was the butcher’s. Percy Hammond and his wife still live above the shop.’
‘No children?’
Ben shook his head. ‘All grown up and left home.’
‘And the one next to that?’
‘The general store. Sells anything and everything – or, rather, it used to.’
Annabel moved closer to peer through part of the window that wasn’t shuttered. ‘I can’t see much, but there still looks to be some stock in there.’ She stepped backwards and glanced up at the windows above to meet the eyes of a man staring down at her. Ben followed the line of her gaze. ‘That’s Eli Merriman. He lives above his shop an’ all. Once he was a happy-go-lucky bloke with a smile and a bit of banter for everyone. Just like his name implies, but not any more.’
‘And that, I suppose,’ Annabel went on, turning her attention to the final business premises, ‘used to be the smithy and wheelwright’s?’
‘Run by Jabez Fletcher and his apprentice, Josh Parrish. He closed it down and they both found work in the town.’
‘That reminds me, don’t be late meeting them from work.’
‘Jabez said this morning they’d walk home,’ Ben began, but Annabel shook her head firmly. ‘No, you fetch them. That poor lad isn’t fit enough yet to walk all that way. A couple of meals won’t have got him back to full strength yet.’
‘Very good, m’lady.’
She stood a moment longer, eyeing the shops and the smithy. ‘Do you think they’d be prepared to open them up again?’
‘I’m sure they’d be delighted, but how? I mean, what with? They used to get a lot of their supplies from the local farms.’ He didn’t need to explain further; Annabel knew full well that there was nothing coming from the farms just now, nor would there be for several months. ‘And most of Jabez’s work came from the farms too.’
‘I’ll talk to Gramps. There might be a way.’ As they moved away, Annabel avoided meeting the gaze of the forlorn man at the window; she didn’t want to give him false hope.
‘I ought to go home and see how things are at the house and it’ll soon be time for you to set off to town. Thank you, Ben, for all your help. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Ben tipped his cap politely and, as she walked away from him and began to climb the slope towards the house, his gaze followed her.
‘There’s been a telegram come, m’lady,’ John informed her when, as she had been advised, Annabel rang the front door bell. ‘But it was addressed to Lady Dorothea.’
‘Thank you, Mr Searby. Where is she?’
‘In the sitting room on the first floor.’ He smiled. ‘It’s a lovely room, now we can afford a fire in there again. And please, m’lady, won’t you call me just “Searby”?’
‘I can’t, I really can’t. If Mrs Parrish is “Mrs”, then your position within the house deserves the title “Mr”. Besides, I really can’t bring myself to address anyone by their surname only. The younger ones, I’ll call by their Christian names, but the older and more senior staff – well, I just can’t. I’m sorry if it offends your sense of propriety, but there it is.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You’re just going to have to put up with me being exactly what I am. No “lady”.’
John was chuckling as he preceded her upstairs and opened the door of the sitting room for her.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ Dorothea was on her feet the moment Annabel entered the room. ‘Interfering in the business of the estate. You have no right.’
‘I have every right,’ Annabel said calmly, moving towards her. ‘In James’s absence, he agreed I could help with the running of the estate.’
Dorothea gasped. ‘He did no such thing. You’re lying.’
‘Dorothea, I may be many things, but I am no liar.’
‘Well, we shall see.’ Dorothea waved a piece of paper in her face. ‘He’s coming home, so we’ll see what he has to say about your interference.’
‘Good. I’m glad he’s coming to see his mother.’
The other woman’s lip curled. ‘Oh, it’s not because of h
er. I sent a telegram of my own and told him about your meddling and that if he wanted to save his estate, he should come home at once. He’ll be here tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ Annabel said again. ‘And now I’ll go up and see your mother.’
‘She doesn’t want to be disturbed.’
‘Who’s looking after her?’
Dorothea shrugged. ‘The maids, I suppose.’
Annabel was appalled by the woman’s callous attitude towards her own sick mother. She had already been disappointed – though not surprised – that Theodore was rarely seen. She knew that children were kept in a nursery or schoolroom for most of the time. And yet there was no nanny or governess that she knew of. His brief appearance at the breakfast table no doubt was because there were not enough members of staff to take his meals upstairs to him. Though she said nothing, Annabel resolved to find out more about how the boy was living. For the moment, though, Lady Fairfield was her main concern.
She left the sitting room and crossed the landing to enter the master bedroom opposite. Elizabeth was alone, propped up against the pillows, her eyes closed. Her breathing was still rasping and it seemed as if every breath she pulled in was painful. At least the fire was being kept built up and the room was much warmer. A glass of water stood on the bedside table, though Annabel doubted Elizabeth had the strength to reach out and lift it to her lips. She didn’t want to wake her so she sat down beside the bed until the dowager countess should stir. A coughing fit roused her and Annabel held the glass of water for Elizabeth to drink. Then the sick lady sank back exhausted against the pillows.
‘How are you feeling?’ Annabel asked gently. Elizabeth opened her eyes but could only shake her head.
Annabel watched her for a few moments more and listened to her breathing. Then she glanced around her. Three doors led out of the bedroom. One opened on to the landing, but Annabel didn’t know what lay behind the other two. Dorothea’s room was through the one to the right, Annabel discovered, and the other led into what she guessed had been a gentleman’s dressing room. Thoughtfully, Annabel sought out Dorothea once more.
‘She’s still very poorly. I think we should get a nurse to live in for a week or so until she improves.’ Without waiting for Dorothea’s agreement, Annabel went on, ‘I’ll see Dr Maybury first thing in the morning and arrange it.’
‘And who do you suppose is going to pay for the luxury of having a live-in nurse?’
Annabel shrugged. ‘If you can’t afford it, then I will pay.’
‘And why should you concern yourself in keeping an old woman alive?’
Annabel shook her head in wonderment; she’d never met anyone like Dorothea before and wondered briefly if the woman was quite right in the head. ‘I don’t want to see anyone suffering. She needs expert nursing. And besides, she’s not old. She’s just ill and frail. And whilst we’re on the subject of your family, what about your son?’
Dorothea’s interest sharpened. She frowned. ‘What about him?’
‘I understand he doesn’t go to school.’
‘What – with those urchins in the village? He’ll go to boarding school when he’s eight. James promised me that.’
‘And in the meantime, you teach him. Is that right? Are you content with that arrangement?’
Slowly and with deliberate emphasis, Dorothea said, ‘We – can’t – afford – a tutor.’
‘We could now,’ Annabel said mildly, ‘if you’d like one. Give it some thought, Dorothea, and let me know.’
Without waiting for another word, Annabel left the room.
Twenty-Five
Edward had been as good as his word. The following morning, when she walked down to the vicarage, it was to find that three women – the wives of his farm workers – had already arrived in a horse and cart, armed with all the cleaning materials they would need.
‘’Morning, m’lady. Where do you want us to start?’
‘How good of you all to come. I’m so grateful.’
‘Your grandfather explained,’ the oldest of the three said. ‘We’ll do all we can to help. Poor folks – if only we’d known earlier.’ The other two nodded their agreement.
‘You’re here now and that’s what matters. Could we start at Chaffinch Farm, please? The family are in the workhouse and I want to get them out and back home as soon as we can. The other farm – Sparrow Farm – is to be taken on by a young man in the village. The place isn’t as bad as Chaffinch Farm, but it will need some work and Betsy Cartwright isn’t strong. She’s not long had a baby and they’re all weak from lack of food.’
‘We heard.’ The spokeswoman was grim-faced. ‘But we’ll help. And before we start, m’lady, there’s one thing we must settle. Don’t you go offering us payment, else you’ll offend us. We’re glad to help these poor folks who’ve been suffering so and we didn’t know.’
Annabel held out both her hands to the woman, who took them into her own, which were wrinkled and careworn. ‘Then I won’t – but thank you.’
‘My name’s Rebecca Clifton. And this ’ere’s Tilly Abbott and Rosie Hall. Now, if you’ll tell us where to be, m’lady, we’ll get going.’
The three women worked in the farmhouse at Chaffinch Farm like beavers and Annabel knew she could safely leave it to them.
‘We’ll likely be a couple of days here and then we’ll do Sparrow Farm, an’ all,’ Rebecca told her. ‘I’ll go and see Mrs Cartwright first, of course, afore we start there.’
James, accompanied by a young soldier, arrived at midday. Annabel saw the hired pony and trap coming along the street as she was about to go up the hill from the village towards the house. James drew the trap to a halt beside her and the young soldier leapt down to help her into the trap.
‘Were you watching for us?’ James smiled.
‘Yes – and no.’
James arched his eyebrows as she added, ‘I’ve so much to tell you.’
‘This is Private Jenkins. He’s my batman.’
Annabel smiled and nodded. ‘Pleased to meet you, Private Jenkins.’
He was a stocky man, with strong, broad shoulders and a face that looked as if he had done a lot of boxing in the army. But he had kind, hazel eyes. ‘Just “Jenkins”, m’lady.’
‘How is my mother?’ James asked.
‘Rather poorly, I fear. Dr Maybury visits every day and I’ve sent word to him this morning that I’d like him to find us a nurse to live in for a week or so. She needs expert care that neither Dorothea nor I can give.’
‘A live-in nurse will be expensive,’ he murmured.
‘That will all be taken care of.’
No more was said for the moment, but as they entered by the front door held open by the butler, Dorothea came forward to greet him.
‘James, I am sorry to bring you home, but your wife has been interfering in matters which don’t concern her.’ She turned briefly to the butler. ‘Searby, bring refreshment for his lordship and tell Mrs Parrish we’ll have luncheon in the dining room in half an hour. And take his lordship’s man with you.’ She looked the soldier up and down with obvious distaste, silently indicating that such a person should not have entered by the front door.
‘Why’s he here?’ she asked her brother before the man was out of earshot.
‘He had some leave due and as it’s too far for him to go to his own home, I invited him to come with me. Surely, one more mouth won’t stretch our finances too far. I’ve brought some provisions with me as usual.’
Dorothea shot a look at Annabel and pursed her lips but said no more. Instead, she led the way to the morning room. At the door, she turned to face them. ‘Not you.’ She nodded towards Annabel. ‘I wish to speak to my brother alone.’
‘I’m sure there’s nothing that Annabel can’t hear. She seems most concerned about Mama.’
‘It’s not about Mama,’ Dorothea snapped. ‘It’s about her.’ She jabbed her forefinger towards Annabel.
James raised his eyebrows. ‘Then she certainly ought to be
present. Come along in, my dear.’
He brushed past his sister and opened the door. On the threshold to the room, he paused. ‘Good heavens! What’s this? A fire? Now, that is a welcome sight. Early September can be chilly.’
He moved towards it, held out his hands briefly to warm them, then turned and stood on the hearth with his back to the fire, smiling with contentment. ‘Now, Dorothea, what is it you want to say to me?’
‘She’s been interfering in the running of the estate. It’s no concern of hers. And she’s been spending all her time down in the village, most of it in the company of Jackson.’ She almost spat out his name as if it was abhorrent to her.
‘And your point is?’
‘It’s not seemly for Lady Fairfield to be occupying herself with matters of the estate nor to be keeping company with your bailiff.’
James glance swivelled to Annabel, but she could not read his expression. ‘May I ask what exactly you have been doing?’
Annabel took a deep breath. ‘I understand that the money paid to you by my father upon our marriage has been enough to secure the estate for the time being, but it has not been sufficient to help the villagers. Your farms and their tenants – indeed all your tenants – are suffering.’
‘They’ve all been given notice and we plan to get new tenants who will start paying rent,’ Dorothea interrupted, but James held up his hand to silence her.
‘Go on,’ he said to Annabel.
‘I have some money of my own—’
‘That should belong to James now.’ Dorothea was not to be kept silent for long, but Annabel was gratified to see that James was shaking his head. ‘No, Dorothea, you’re wrong there. Married women now have the right to keep – and manage – their own money.’ He nodded towards Annabel inviting her to continue.
‘I’ve sold some of my shares to raise more capital and I plan to use it to help the estate become a thriving concern once more. Your tenants were starving, James. A baby almost died—’
‘She’s exaggerating.’ Dorothea was incensed. ‘They’re nothing of the kind. They’re just idle layabouts, who think the estate will always bail them out and unfortunately your meddling wife has proved them right.’
Fairfield Hall Page 16
