Fairfield Hall (27 page)

Edward wrinkled his brow. ‘That’s about right. Need a bit of fattening up before they’ll be ready for the boar. About the end of November, I reckon.’

Jim nodded. ‘Let’s see, they’d farrow in March.’

‘Three months, three weeks, three days,’ William piped up and they all laughed at the young man airing his knowledge.

Ben bought livestock for Home Farm and Adam, too, obtained three in-calf cows, two sows and six ewes. ‘I like sheep, m’lady. I’d love to build up a nice-sized flock.’

‘I always loved lambing time, if I could wangle a visit to my grandparents’ farm at the right time,’ Annabel told him, smiling at the happy memories of seeing ewes safely
delivered of their young or helping to rear an orphaned lamb in Martha’s warm kitchen.

‘You can have loan of my ram,’ Edward offered. ‘You’ll be needing him early October. We’ll sort it out between us, Adam. And my neighbour, Joe Moffatt – you
know, Annabel, your Jane’s dad, who has Glebe Farm next to mine – he keeps a boar he hires out. There’s no need for you to buy them – at least, not yet. Now, my lovely,
we’d best have a look at those shires over there. Four, do you say?’

‘That’s what they’ve decided between them,’ Annabel said, ‘though I don’t know if it’s enough for four farms.’

‘Ben can always fetch mine for a few days, if I’m not using them.’

Four beautiful shires – black and white heavy horses – were knocked down to Ben. The excited expressions on the faces of all the men were reward enough for Annabel, whose bank
balance was being eroded steadily. But she didn’t mind; there were more shares she could sell and it would be so good to see livestock in the fields once more.

‘Good strong workhorses, they are, Ben.’ Edward nodded his approval. ‘They’re from Sam Bennett’s place, an’ all. There’s a farm sale on site on Friday.
It might be worth your while to take a look, but I think he thought he’d get a better price for some of his dad’s livestock in the town market.’

‘You go, Ben,’ Annabel urged him. ‘See what there is. In fact, you can all go. I might not come as there’s still so much to do in the village.’

‘Would you come with us, Mr Armstrong?’ Ben asked. ‘We appreciate your advice.’

Edward eyed him, wondering why the man was asking him. Ben had already been a bailiff for a few years and had run Home Farm and the estate efficiently before things had got tough. Why, Edward
wondered, was he seeking his help and advice? Perhaps, the older man thought shrewdly, if Annabel wasn’t there, he’d need advice on how much he could spend of her money. So, Edward
smiled and nodded. ‘I’d be glad to.’

They bought ducks, geese, chickens and a proud, strutting cockerel for each farmyard.

‘Mam will love them,’ William said happily. ‘She’ll take on the poultry.’

Over lunch, which Edward insisted on paying for, they discussed what else they needed. ‘I don’t like the look of the rest of the sheep for sale today. I reckon we got the best of
what’s here,’ Ben said as he tucked into steak pie with a glass of ale at his elbow.

‘There might be more back at Sam’s place when you go on Friday. And have a good look around at what machinery you’ve got and what you might need – and tools, too. He ran
his farm well, did Sam, poor old feller. There’ll be all sorts at the sale on Friday and it’ll be in good condition,’ Edward reminded him. ‘You could pick up a lot of stuff
quite cheaply.’

The chatter continued between the men and Annabel listened, joining in now and again but for the most part she ate in silence, enjoying hearing the talk. Several local farmers came up and patted
Ben’s shoulder, or Jim’s, and one or two were even bold enough to ask William how his dad was doing.

Then their curious glances lingered on Annabel’s face and she knew the word was spreading around the district about the new Lady Fairfield. She smiled and greeted them and was introduced
to so many people that her head whirled. ‘I’ll never remember all their names,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve enough to remember with everyone in the village.’

They returned to Fairfield, tired but happy with their purchases and full of hope for the future. But what awaited Annabel at Fairfield Hall spoiled her day.

‘What’s all this I’ve been hearing?’ Dorothea’s thunderous face greeted her. ‘Just who do you think you are?’

‘What have you heard, Dorothea?’ Annabel was tired after the day’s events and yet elated by what had been achieved. The last thing she wanted was to engage in a quarrel with
her sister-in-law. But it seemed she had no choice; Dorothea was spoiling for a fight. Annabel was determined not to let the other woman gain the upper hand. Whatever it was could wait until she
had washed and changed her clothes. And there was something even more important she had to do first. ‘I must see your mother. I’ll see you at dinner, Dorothea.’

‘You’ll listen to me now,’ the woman almost shouted. ‘And you won’t disturb my mother. She’s sleeping.’

‘How is she?’

Grudgingly, it seemed, Dorothea was obliged to admit, ‘She’s improving slowly.’

‘I’m glad. And is the nurse proving satisfactory?’

Again there was reluctance, but she said shortly, ‘Yes.’

‘Then what is so important that it can’t wait until I’ve had a cup of tea and changed my clothes?’

‘You’re bringing shame and disgrace on this family. Wait until my brother hears about what you’ve been doing.’

Annabel raised her eyebrows, but Dorothea’s tirade continued. ‘Bringing folks out of the workhouse back to the estate – folks who rightly belong there because they
couldn’t manage their farms. Reinstating a common whore into the village. Wasn’t it bad enough we couldn’t get rid of her because my stupid oaf of a brother
gave
her the
cottage?’

‘And who made her into a whore?’ Annabel said quietly.

Dorothea face was purple with anger. ‘How dare you? How dare you speak ill of my family like that?’

‘It’s the truth, though, isn’t it? If your older brother hadn’t seduced her and sired her child, Nancy would have continued quite happily, I’m sure, as a
maid.’

Dorothea couldn’t deny it. Instead, she shook her fist in Annabel’s face and shouted, ‘James will hear about it. About all of it and he’ll send you packing. Sham marriage
or no sham marriage, you’ll be out on your ear.’

Annabel met the woman’s furious gaze and her tone was deceptively soft as she said slowly, ‘Oh, it’s no sham marriage, Dorothea, I assure you.’

With that she turned, picked up her skirts and ran lightly up the stairs without looking back to see how her words had affected her sister-in-law.

When she went into the dining room as John Searby sounded the gong for dinner, Annabel was surprised to see not only Dorothea there, but also Theodore.

‘Annie is sitting with my mother whilst the nurse has an hour or two off. Theodore will be eating with us this evening.’

Annabel smiled down at the boy. ‘That will be nice. I’ve been wanting to get to know you, Theo.’

‘It’s Theodore,’ Dorothea said shortly. ‘He’s named after my grandfather, the third earl. It’ll be most appropriate when he becomes the seventh
earl.’

Annabel decided not to rise to the woman’s goading. For all any of them knew at the moment, Theodore might very well become the next earl after James. If she and James were to have no
children, or only girls, then he would inherit the title and all the estate.

Annabel smiled at him as they sat down and after Dorothea had said grace, she asked, ‘How old are you, Theodore?’

The boy glanced up at his mother as if seeking permission to answer. Receiving a curt nod, he said, ‘I was five in June.’

‘I understand you have lessons with your mother. What is your favourite subject?’

Again, there was a swift glance for approval before he said, ‘I like learning all about the estate.’

‘That’s wonderful. Then perhaps – if your mother agrees – we could go out for a drive one day and you could show me around. I’ve seen a lot of it already, but not
everything.’

‘I don’t think—’ his mother began, but the boy interrupted excitedly. ‘Oh please, may I, Mama?’ It was the first time he’d shown any enthusiasm, the
first time he’d responded to Annabel’s attempts to be friendly. Though no doubt instructed by his mother to have nothing to do with the unwelcome newcomer in their midst, the child
could not curb his excitement at the thought of an outing. Poor little boy, Annabel thought. I don’t expect there’s been much fun in his life. ‘I’d like to show Aunt Annabel
everything: the farms, the woodland, even the river that runs through the estate.’

Annabel smiled. She liked being called ‘Aunt Annabel’.

‘I’d take good care of him, Dorothea, but you could come too, if you wish.’ She could see by the expression on Dorothea’s face that the woman was struggling with
conflicting emotions.

‘Please, Mama.’ Theodore’s thin little face and big brown eyes were appealing. Surely she can’t refuse him, Annabel thought, but she kept silent.

‘Very well,’ Dorothea said at last, but there was still doubt and reluctance in her tone.

Annabel met her gaze and said softly, ‘And please give some thought to what I said about a governess or tutor. I meant it.’

In silence, they ate the meal that now deserved the name ‘dinner’. Out of the corner of her eye, Annabel watched the little boy devour every morsel, clearing each plate of food that
was placed in front of him. It was good to see and already his cheeks were pinker, his hair brighter.

‘And now bed for you, young man,’ Dorothea said as she rose from the table.

‘Goodnight, Aunt Annabel,’ Theodore said as he skipped towards the door.

Dorothea made to follow him, but then hesitated and turned back towards Annabel. Haltingly, she said, ‘I didn’t want James to marry. Not anyone. You know why. It’s nothing
against you personally, but I have to thank you for what you’ve done for us here in the house. For my mother, for Theodore. You needn’t have done anything, I know that. You
needn’t have stayed here at all whilst James is away. And he will be away a lot. But you should know that whilst part of me is grateful, I will never give up my intention that Theodore will
inherit.’

‘I understand how you feel, Dorothea, truly I do. But only time will tell on that matter. In the meantime, if we can’t be real friends, perhaps we could at least try to get along
together.’

The woman bit her lower lip. ‘I still intend to write to James and tell him what you’re doing on the estate, because I don’t think he’ll agree with it.’

Annabel shrugged. ‘Please do, but I shall be telling him everything myself when I write.’

Dorothea gave a curt nod and turned away. Annabel watched her go with a sigh. It was the nearest she was going to get to a truce, she supposed. But she was glad about one thing; she wanted to
get to know her nephew a lot better and now it appeared that she might be given the chance.

The following morning, Annabel went first to the vicarage. She sat at the kitchen table with Richard and Phoebe for a while, drinking tea and chatting whilst she recounted all
that had happened the previous day at the market.

‘So,’ she said happily, ‘there’ll soon be livestock in the fields once again. And we bought horses too, so the ploughing can start. A little later than normal perhaps,
but not too late, I hope.’

The vicar shook his head in disbelief. ‘Cows, horses and sheep,’ he murmured, ‘after all this time.’

Annabel smiled but then, in a businesslike tone, she went on, ‘And now, we need to move on to the next stage. First, Mr Webster, about the school . . .’

‘The master left at Easter and the school hasn’t been open since.’

‘So, the children haven’t been learning anything during that time?’

‘Richard took classes for a while, but it got too much for him,’ Phoebe said, putting her hand on her husband’s arm. ‘I took the girls for needlework and sewing and a
little bit of cooking, but soon there was no food to cook and no money to buy materials of any sort. Though the children still had slates, we had no chalk left for them to write with.’

‘How do we go about engaging a new teacher? Is there a board of managers – or whatever they’re called – for the school?’

Richard Webster grimaced. ‘There used to be. It’s a Board School and as the name implies, it’s managed by an elected school board. I was an ex officio member because of my
position in the community. Lord Fairfield – whoever held the title – was always the chairman, but Albert never attended and recently, of course, your husband just hasn’t been
here.’

‘Who else was on it?’

‘Anyone of standing in the community. The shopkeepers, the farmers – that sort of person made up the numbers. Mr Broughton was very active. He used to do a lot for the school. Mr
Chadwick, too and, of course’ – he smiled – ‘Jabez Fletcher.’

Annabel laughed aloud. ‘Why am I not surprised by that?’

‘And we co-opted Ben Jackson to the board. That’s all we had latterly, though maybe we should have more. I’ll write some letters to see what I can find out and seek
advice.’

‘So, what do we do? Call a meeting of the board members?’

‘It’d be for the best, but I doubt Mr Broughton will come.’

‘It might be just the thing to prise him out of his depression. We’ll try anyway. And may I attend?’

‘I expect we could probably co-opt you to stand in for your husband,’ Richard said.

‘The sooner the better. We must get these children back to school – by after Christmas, if we can. Now,’ she added, as she rose from the table. ‘I must seek out the
butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker.’

Richard looked up at her and blinked. Annabel chuckled. ‘Not really, I just meant I want to see if we can get the village shops open again.’

Richard, too, rose. ‘Would you like me to come with you? You might meet with some bitterness.’

‘I’d be very glad to have your company, Mr Webster. This isn’t quite Mr Jackson’s territory.’

They called first on Ozzy Greenwood, who lived in a cottage near the church with his elderly mother. A middle-aged man with thinning ginger hair and a freckled complexion opened the door
tentatively. When he saw who was standing there, his eyes widened.