‘We don’t know. We just saw the flames. Oh Ben, they’re still inside.’
‘What?’ He passed her the full bucket of water he was holding and dashed forward, just as a dark shadow appeared in the doorway of the cottage. Private Jenkins staggered out with Bertie in his arms and Agnes clinging to his arm, but there was no sign of Nancy.
Passing the full bucket of water she was holding, Annabel now left the line and hurried forward to take the boy from Jenkins’s arms. Bertie was crying and struggling to free himself. ‘Mamma, Mamma!’
‘I’ll get her,’ Jenkins said, and he turned and dashed back into the flames that were now engulfing the whole cottage.
‘Oh, save her, please!’ Agnes gasped, but then a fit of coughing overwhelmed her and she sank to the ground, doubling over as she fought to breathe.
As Jenkins entered the cottage again, Annabel saw Ben climbing the ladder onto the roof. James followed him whilst Josh Parrish stood at the bottom and passed up buckets of water. But they were all fighting a losing battle. The fire had taken such hold that although everyone worked as hard as they could the flames were too fierce for them.
James came down from the ladder and shouted up to Ben. ‘Come down, man. Save yourself. There’s nothing more we can do.’
With one last despairing look at the burning roof above him, Ben slid down the ladder. ‘Where’s Jenkins? He’s not still in there, is he?’
They both ran towards the door. ‘Jenkins! Jenkins!’ James roared, but there was no reply. Ben made as if to enter the house, but James gripped his arm. ‘No, man, no. It’s certain death. The roof’s going to collapse inwards any minute.’
‘But if there’s a chance . . .’
‘James, James!’ Annabel was running towards them.
‘Get back,’ the two men cried in unison.
‘Look, look. They’re safe. They must have gone out the back way.’
James and Ben turned to see Jenkins staggering round the corner of the cottage, carrying Nancy in his arms. He carried her well away from the building just as, with a crash and the sound of splintering wood, the roof caved in sending a fresh burst of flames skywards. Now that they knew the occupants of the cottage had all been brought out, the line of water bearers put down their buckets. ‘There’s nowt more we can do for the cottage now we’ve got ’em all out,’ Jabez said wisely. Luckily, the dwelling was set apart from any others and the fire would not spread to other buildings.
But none of them knew yet if Nancy had survived. Tenderly, Harry Jenkins laid her on the ground and bent over her. ‘She’s breathing, but it’s shallow.’ He looked up. ‘Is there a doctor here?’
‘I’ll go,’ Ben volunteered, though his face was black from the smoke. ‘I’ll fetch him.’ But he got no further for at that moment Nancy began to cough and open her eyes. She struggled to sit up. ‘Bertie,’ she gasped hoarsely. ‘Mam!’
‘They’re safe. They’re both safe,’ Annabel reassured her, kneeling on the grass beside her, but it was Harry Jenkins who cradled her in his arms.
‘You’re safe,’ he murmured gruffly. ‘You’re all safe.’
Without thinking, Annabel turned to say, ‘Ben, fetch the trap. We’ll take them up to the house.’
‘Couldn’t they stay at the vicarage?’ James muttered. ‘I don’t think—’
‘They need someone with medical knowledge. Nurse Newton was preparing to leave now that your mother is on the mend, but she’s still with us at the moment.’
James knew himself defeated as his wife issued the orders. ‘Mr Fletcher, can you organize a watch to be kept until it’s burnt itself out? Mr Webster,’ she added, seeing the vicar who’d been helping in the line of water carriers, ‘please could you make sure everyone’s all right – that no one’s got injured. I must go home and make sure we have beds ready for our guests.’
James watched in amazement as everyone hurried to do his wife’s bidding. Slowly, he began to realize just what a remarkable woman he had married and just how much she was doing to rescue his estate. But there was one thing that still rankled and, as she took his arm once more to walk home, it was his unreasonable jealousy that surfaced, causing him to say softly, ‘Ben, is it? I can see I shall have to watch that bailiff of mine.’
But Annabel, her head still full of what needed to be done, hardly heard his words and certainly, their underlying meaning did not register.
Forty
‘I’m not having that woman and her little bastard under the same roof as my son,’ Dorothea stormed when the trap pulled up at the front door of Fairfield Hall. Annabel and James had arrived home just ahead of it and had swiftly explained the reason for their dishevelled appearance and forewarned the household of the imminent arrival of unexpected guests.
‘It seems, my dear sister,’ James drawled, ‘that we have no choice. Annabel has organized it and here they are. Make the best of it, Dorothea, as I will have to.’
Annabel was already issuing orders to Annie and Jane to make ready a room for Nancy, her mother and son.
‘There are only the guest bedrooms on the top floor, m’lady. Mrs Parrish senior is still in the spare one in the servants’ quarters.’ Annie, catching the excitement of the moment, suggested, ‘But they only need use one room. The two women can share the double and the little boy can sleep on a truckle bed. Jane, go and get the warming pan ready while I find clean sheets. Oh my!’ she added, as she caught sight of the bedraggled trio being brought in through the front door. Harry was carrying Nancy and Ben carried Bertie, with Agnes leaning heavily on his arm. ‘Looks like they could do with a hot bath, an’ all.’
‘Thank you, Annie. And would you ask Mrs Parrish if she can find food and drink for them? And please, would you tell Nurse Newton she is needed?’
‘I’ll see to it all, m’lady.’
The household was suddenly a beehive of activity as everyone rallied round the homeless family. Dinner was put back until James and Annabel, whose clothes were covered with smuts, had had time to wash and change. Amidst the bustle, Theo appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘Mama, what is happening? Grandmama wants to know what all the noise is about.’
Dorothea whirled round to look up at him. ‘Go back to your room this instant and don’t you dare come out again until I say you can.’
Theo’s face crumpled but he turned and disappeared, running back up the stairs to the nursery and his bedroom. But, at the turn in the staircase where no one could see him from below, he paused to listen. His mother was not finished yet. She turned on James as he began to mount the stairs. ‘Isn’t it enough that you humiliate me by threatening that Theo will have to attend the village school?’ She spat out the last two words, the very sound of them abhorrent to her. ‘But now I have to endure the disgrace of having – of having these people in the house as guests?’
James, suddenly overwhelmed with weariness, leaned on the banister. ‘Dorothea, I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’m sure Annabel would remind you – whether you like it or not – that, but for an unfortunate accident of birth, the boy is your son’s cousin.’
Dorothea put her hand to her throat as she pulled in a sharp breath. James, tired of all the arguments, turned away and continued to climb the stairs. And Theo crept quietly up to the top floor and the safety of his bedroom.
At breakfast, Dorothea was still angry. She had hardly slept, her wrath keeping her awake far into the night. ‘How long do you intend them to stay here?’
‘As long as it takes,’ Annabel replied calmly, helping herself to breakfast from the dishes set out on the sideboard. They were alone in the dining room. ‘And aren’t you forgetting to enquire how they all are this morning?’
‘No, I’m not forgetting. I have no interest whatsoever in how they are. It would have been better if they’d all perished in the flames.’
Annabel whirled around on her sister-in-law. ‘Dorothea, that’s a wicked thing to say.’
The woman’s face twisted. ‘Oh, I’ll be eve
n more wicked and add “and you along with them” since you seem to put such creatures ahead of your husband’s wishes.’ Her eyes narrowed spitefully. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Playing “Lady Bountiful”. Spending your own money on the estate, buying the tenants’ affection, even buying James’s gratitude. Well, let me tell you something, he’ll never love you.’
As Annabel sat down at the table, Dorothea leaned across it and hissed in her face. ‘His marriage to you was just a marriage of convenience. The woman he loves lives in London. She’s his mistress and he has no intention of giving her up, not even now he’s married to you.’
Annabel kept her hands hidden beneath the table as she clasped them together to stop them trembling. Surely it wasn’t true? Dorothea was just being vindictive; trying to make her leave Fairfield Hall. The words were like a knife through Annabel’s heart and yet as she slowly raised her head to look into Dorothea’s eyes and saw the hatred and resentment there, her resolve hardened. She’d known from the start that she and her sister-in-law would never be real friends, but she had begun to hope that they could rub along together. But in that moment, Annabel knew that Dorothea was showing her true colours; she was her bitter enemy. From now on, she realized, she would have to be on her guard.
On the Monday afternoon, Theo sat alone in the nursery, surrounded by his books and toys, which had been collected in an earlier age before the family had fallen on hard times. He read the same books his father and uncle had read, played with their toys, but he had no companion with whom to play toy soldiers or engage in rough and tumble; he had no idea what it was to have a playmate of a similar age.
But now he knew there was another little boy in the house – on this same floor and just down the corridor. The main house was quiet; his mother had gone into town in the pony and trap and his grandmother was taking her afternoon rest after luncheon. Aunt Annabel was down in the village and his uncle and the soldier, who’d rescued the little boy from the fire in their home, were out too.
Quietly, Theo tiptoed out of the nursery and along the corridor. Now he could hear the piping voice of the boy and a softer tone – a woman’s voice – answering him coming from inside one of the guest bedrooms. He knocked softly and heard the scrape of a chair. The door opened and Theo stared up at the pretty woman standing there, a startled look on her face.
‘Oh, Master Theo. You shouldn’t be here. Is – is there something wrong?’
Theo shook his head and craned his neck to look around her. ‘I’ve come to see the boy – to see if he’d like to play.’
‘Play!’ The woman, whom Theo guessed was the boy’s mother, was shocked but Theo nodded firmly. He was to be the next earl of Fairfield and one day this would be his house. Surely, he could say what went on in it even now. ‘Yes, I want to play with him.’
‘Oh, well, I don’t know,’ Nancy still hesitated, but stood aside and held the door wider so that he might enter. ‘I don’t think your mother would—’
‘She’s out,’ Theo said matter-of-factly. ‘And Grandmama is resting. No one can hear us up here.’ He marched purposefully into the room and stood in front of the other boy. ‘What’s your name?’
The little boy, his eyes wide, stood up slowly. ‘B-bertie,’ he stuttered and glanced at his mother for reassurance. Nancy gave a wan smile and a slight nod of encouragement. Now Theo turned to speak to the woman.
‘May Bertie come to my room? It’s only just down the corridor. He won’t be far away. You can come and see, if you like.’ He glanced around the room that was devoid of toys. He knew about the fire, knew that whatever the little boy had owned had been lost. The only thing Bertie seemed to have left was the battered knitted soft toy he was clutching. ‘I’ve lots of toys,’ Theo went on. ‘He can have some of them to keep, if he likes.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Master Theodore, but it wouldn’t be right.’
Theodore was only six months older than Bertie, but he acted and spoke with far more confidence than the younger boy. Theo had grown up with his mother’s undivided attention. Not only was he advanced in his learning, but he was also mature for his age. Dorothea, ever mindful of the position her son would one day hold, had schooled him for that very role.
‘No one will know,’ Theo said and suddenly there was an unexpected mischievous twinkle in his eyes that was rarely seen. Under his mother’s strict guidance, ‘fun’ was not part of her curriculum. She never played with him; that was left to the nursery maid, but there had not been a nursery maid for months now. His Uncle James played occasionally with the young boy, but his visits home were fleeting. Theo was lonely. He hungered for a playmate. On his rare trips out, he had seen boys playing in the road, kicking a tin can, or girls skipping, and he’d yearned to join in. He’d even seen, and recognized, the loneliness of the little boy who lived in the cottage at the end of the village and, though he was too young to put into words the feeling he’d had, he had empathized with him. And now that same boy was here in his house and Theo was determined not to miss such an opportunity.
‘Well . . .’ The woman was wavering. ‘As long as he comes back in here the moment your mother comes home.’
Theo nodded, his eyes shining. ‘I promise.’ He held out his hand to the younger boy. ‘Come on. I’ve got some toy soldiers. We can play going to war, like Uncle James does.’
Nancy gasped and her eyes widened. Her fingers covered her mouth. Did the boy know? But then she relaxed. No, of course he couldn’t know, she tried to reassure herself. Theo was referring to the earl as his own uncle. A five-year-old boy could not possibly realize that the little chap he was leading towards his own room and a mountain of toys shared the very same relationship to the present earl, for James Lyndon was not only Theo’s uncle but Bertie’s too. Could he?
Nancy was wrong. Theo did have an inkling that Bertie was somehow connected to the family; crouching on the stairs, he’d overheard his mother’s conversation with Uncle James on the night of the fire. He was too young to understand the full significance of their words, but all Theo wanted was a playmate. Now, he showed Bertie the lines of lead toy soldiers. ‘You can be Napoleon Bonaparte at the head of his army and I’ll be the Duke of Wellington.’
Bertie had no idea who either of the men were, but he followed Theo’s instructions and the two young boys played happily together until Theo heard his mother’s voice on the landing below. ‘Quick,’ Theo said, scrambling up from the floor and holding out his hand to Bertie to drag him towards the door. ‘Run!’ And Bertie ran.
Alone once more in the nursery, Theo set the soldiers that had been scattered by Bertie’s hasty flight upright as Dorothea came into the room.
‘I trust you haven’t been playing all afternoon, Theodore. I left you some reading to do. Have you done it?’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Theo said, not looking up. It was the first time he could ever remember deliberately lying to his mother, but he would not be caught out. He’d read that particular book before and he had a good memory. If she questioned him about the story, he would be able to answer perfectly.
The Banks family stayed three nights until Annabel was able to arrange for them to move into the rooms above the grocer’s shop which they had occupied once before.
‘Back to where we started,’ Agnes murmured as Annabel led them into the upstairs rooms, which the village women had spent the last three days cleaning. They had all brought bits of furniture and household goods to make the three people, who’d lost everything they owned, feel welcome. Agnes wiped the tears of gratitude from her eyes as she looked around her. Annabel put her arms around the woman’s shaking shoulders. ‘There, doesn’t that prove they want to accept you back into the community?’
‘I – hope so,’ Agnes said. ‘Oh, I do hope so.’
‘When you’ve got settled in, we’ll buy you all the materials you’ll need to start up your dressmaking business again. You can start by making new clothes for yourselves.’ Her glance went to Bertie, still holding
Nancy’s hand as he gazed around the rooms that were to be his home from now on. Under his arm he carried a large box wrapped in brown paper. It was so big it looked almost too heavy for him to carry, but it seemed he would not be separated from it. ‘And toys. We must get some toys and books for Bertie.’
Bertie looked up at her. ‘I’ve got one toy; a rabbit called Hoppy that Granny knitted for me when I was born. I was holding him when Mr Jenkins rescued me. And now I’ve got another. A train set. Theo gave it to me.’
‘Theo?’ Annabel was startled. She hadn’t realized that the two boys had even met; Dorothea had been careful to see to that. But Bertie was grinning. It was the first time Annabel had seen the solemn-faced little boy smile since the dreadful fire that could have cost them their lives.
‘It was when you were all out the other day. He came to find me and took me back to his room. We played for ages until we heard his mother come back.’ Now Bertie frowned. ‘He’s frightened of his mama, isn’t he? Is she cruel to him?’
Annabel bit her lip, not knowing quite how to answer. She couldn’t possibly tell the little boy exactly why Lady Dorothea didn’t want her son playing with him. ‘Not cruel, no,’ she said carefully, ‘but she’s very strict.’
‘He says he’s going to come to the village school when it opens again after Christmas. We could be real friends then.’
‘Would you like that?’
The young boy was thoughtful before he said, with a poignancy that struck at Annabel’s heart, ‘I’ve never had a friend before.’
With a catch in her voice Annabel said, ‘I think you’ll make lots of friends when you go to school.’
‘But I’d really like Theo to be my friend. And he would too. He said so.’
Poor little boys, Annabel thought, as her heart went out to both of them. They’d both led such a solitary life, but for very different reasons. Well, she vowed silently, if I can, I’ll change that.
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