Fairfield Hall (36 page)

Whilst Bertie stayed at the school, Annabel walked back along the village street to report to Nancy. ‘Simon Cartwright’s keeping an eye on him and the other children seem to follow
his lead.’

Nancy nodded. ‘Simon’s a good lad and the Cartwrights have been kind to us. In fact,’ she added, with a note of surprise in her tone, ‘everybody has. Thanks to you,
m’lady.’

Annabel patted her hand and took her leave before Nancy could say any more.

Towards the end of January, Annabel realized just what was wrong with her and she ran her hand over her stomach, imagining that she could already feel the new life she was sure
was growing within her. She should see Dr Maybury, she decided.

On the morning she had Luke harness the trap, it was snowing lightly, but Annabel wrapped up against the cold.

‘I should drive you, m’lady,’ the young man said. ‘Or is Mester Jackson taking you?’

Annabel blinked. Oh dear, she thought, is it becoming common knowledge that I am in Ben’s company a lot? James would not be pleased.

‘No, no, not today. I’ll be fine, Luke.’

As she passed through the village, several folk waved to her. She wondered what their reaction would be if they knew the purpose of her journey.

When Stephen Maybury had questioned her closely and examined her, he smiled and said, ‘I think you might well prepare for a happy event. How pleased his lordship will be.’

Will he? Annabel wondered. She hoped so, but there was one person who would most definitely not be pleased. In fact, she would be extremely angry.

Dorothea.

Annabel hadn’t wanted to tell Dorothea – or anyone else – before she had had time to write to James and for him to be the first to hear the news. But at
breakfast the morning after her visit to Dr Maybury, she felt so nauseous that she had to leave the table. Luckily, Dorothea had breakfasted earlier and had left the room. Jane, who was helping to
serve breakfast, came to her side at once and helped her upstairs to lie down. She hurried down to the kitchen to fetch a cup of weak tea and a piece of dry toast for Annabel, but she could not
keep the smile from her face.

‘What’s got into you? All smiles this time in a morning,’ Nelly Parrish laughed.

‘Miss Annabel’ – Jane still found it hard to use her mistress’s new title – ‘is feeling sick this morning. Just tea and toast – and no
butter.’

Nelly’s mouth dropped open and she stared wide-eyed at the girl. ‘Well, I never,’ she murmured. ‘This’ll put the cat among the pigeons and no mistake.’

Annie, who had overheard the conversation, sidled out of the kitchen unseen by the other two. She found Dorothea alone in the dining room. A warm fire now glowed in the grate, the shutters were
opened and the curtains drawn back to let in the morning light. Outside, Thomas Salt and Gregory Merriman had begun their assault on the overgrown garden.

‘M’lady,’ the girl whispered. ‘Before you came down, Lady Fairfield was feeling ill. She’s gone upstairs to lie down and Jane’s fetching her tea and toast.
Dry
toast,’ she added with a knowing smirk.

Dorothea, reading the morning paper, didn’t seem to pay much attention. She merely murmured, ‘I didn’t know my mother had started to come down for breakfast. I thought you were
still taking it up to her in bed.’

‘I am. I didn’t mean your mother, m’lady, I meant Lady Annabel.’

There was a moment’s silence before Dorothea raised her head very slowly and met the maid’s gaze. ‘
What
did you say?’

‘I said, it wasn’t your mother, it was—’

‘No, no, before that. About her being ill.’

‘I’d say she’s got morning sickness, m’lady. I’ve seen it enough times when me mam was having another babby.’ Annie was enjoying herself, eager to impart a
bit of information to her mistress and air her own knowledge on the subject. ‘An’ I should know, she had six more after me.’

Dorothea was very still and, for a brief moment, Annie felt a flicker of fear. She knew only too well that Dorothea was adamant that her son should inherit the title and the Fairfield Estate. If
Lady Annabel had a son, that would not happen. Annie trembled, wishing she had kept silent. She’d seen Dorothea in a temper more than once and she didn’t want to be the one who’d
made her angry.

Slowly, Dorothea rose from the table, her mind working furiously. She would have to play this very carefully. With extreme control, she said, ‘I’d better go and see her for myself,
but not a word about this to anyone else, you hear me?’

Annie nodded and bobbed a little curtsy as her mistress swept from the room, outrage in every movement.

‘It’s a bit late for that,’ Annie muttered as soon as Dorothea was out of earshot. ‘They’ll all know soon enough downstairs now.’

Dorothea entered the bedroom Annabel shared with James on his brief visits home without knocking. She approached the bed and stood looking down at her sister-in-law.

With great forbearance, she managed to say mildly, ‘Annie tells me you were unwell at breakfast. I trust it’s nothing serious. Perhaps it’s something you ate. I was a little
suspicious myself of the fish we had for dinner last night.’

Annabel sat up slowly and reached for the cup of tea, which Jane had placed on the bedside table. ‘I don’t think it’s anything serious at all. In fact, I believe it’s
perfectly natural in my condition.’

She heard Dorothea pull in a sharp breath. ‘What – what do you mean?’

‘I am with child, Dorothea.’

‘You’re
what
!’

‘I’m expecting a child.’ For a brief moment Annabel felt afraid. She really thought for one fleeting second that the woman was going to attack her. Dorothea’s eyes
bulged. The colour drained from her face and then flooded back until she was almost puce. She staggered briefly and reached out to grasp the post at the end of the bed.

‘How – how can you be?’

Annabel frowned. What on earth did the woman mean? But at Dorothea’s next words, it became clear. ‘He swore he wouldn’t touch you. Promised me that it was to be a marriage in
name only. He’s got that Carruthers woman for – for
that
sort of thing. He doesn’t need you at all. Only your money.’ She was glaring at Annabel as if she was wholly
to blame and then, suddenly, she seemed to calm down. ‘Oh, I understand now. I see it all. It’s not his, is it? It’s not James’s child. It’s someone else’s.
It’s – it’s Jackson’s, I’ll be bound.’

Now it was Annabel’s turn to be incensed. ‘How dare you? How dare you suggest such a thing – even think it!’

Now Dorothea was in control of herself again. ‘Oh, I dare and I’ll make sure my brother knows he’s been cuckolded.’

Annabel turned her head away, feeling a sickness that now had nothing to do with her pregnancy. ‘You’re mad,’ she muttered. ‘Quite mad.’ She swung her legs over the
side of the bed and stood up. The tea and toast had worked and she felt much better. ‘Please leave my room.’

‘Gladly. I no longer wish to be in the presence of a whore! No wonder you were so keen to help Nancy Banks. You’re two of a kind.’

‘Just go, Dorothea.’

With an angry swish of her skirts, Dorothea left the room. Moments later, Jane came back into the room, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘Oh miss, it’s all my fault. I was that happy
for you when I went down to get your breakfast, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face and Mrs Parrish guessed. Annie must have overheard and gone running to tell Lady Dorothea. Even after all
you’ve done for them, miss, they still seem to think of her as their mistress.’

‘It’s all right, Jane.’ Annabel touched her hand. ‘They’d all have known soon, but now I must write to my husband. I’ll go down to the office.’

‘Do you think you ought to stay here, miss? I could bring your writing things up.’

‘No, no, I’m feeling much better now. Just stay with me whilst I go downstairs.’

Reaching the office and reassuring Jane that she was fine, Annabel sat down at her desk and picked up her pen. She would write to James at once to tell him the wonderful news and she would see
that it was in the post before his dear sister could write to him. An hour later, safe in Luke’s hands, her letter was on its way to the town. But, unbeknown to her, so was one from Dorothea.
Luke, carrying out the instructions of both women, was ignorant of the dynamite the letters held.

When the pony and trap bringing James and Harry Jenkins from the station in town drew up outside the front steps, Annabel stood in the doorway to greet her husband. James had
not been able to get leave for Christmas, but on explaining to his commanding officer that his wife had written to say that she was with child, special compassionate leave had been granted. He said
nothing, however, about the letter he had received from his sister.

James bounded up the steps, but instead of taking her in his arms, he glared down at Annabel. ‘Is it true? Are you expecting a child?’

‘Yes, oh yes, James. Isn’t it wonderful? I do so hope it’s the son you want.’

For a moment, his face worked as if he was grappling with some inner conflict. Then he grasped her arm, his fingers biting painfully into her flesh as he almost dragged her in through the front
door held open by the butler.

‘Good afternoon, my lord,’ John began, but he was ignored as James hurried Annabel through to the morning room. He thrust her from him, almost making her overbalance and fall before
he slammed the door behind them.

‘A son, you say. Of course, I want a son. But’ – he jabbed his finger towards her as he said crudely, ‘whatever you’re carrying in your belly isn’t mine, is
it?’

Annabel gasped and sank into a chair, her legs giving way beneath her. She stared, wide-eyed at him. ‘James,’ she said in a strangled whisper. ‘I swear to you that this child
is yours. How can you possibly accuse me of such a thing?’

James paced the room, stopping every so often to tower over her. ‘Dorothea says you’ve been spending most of your time down in the village. The father could be anyone, but it’s
most likely Jackson’s. And even after I asked you – most specifically – not to go anywhere without the company of your maid.’

Annabel was trembling from head to foot. She felt sick, not with pregnancy sickness now, but with revulsion. ‘I – I have taken her with me – most of the time – but when
your mother was so ill, she was needed here.’

‘You should be here,’ he raged, ‘tending to your duties in this house, not running around the village consorting with the yokels.’

Now anger surged through her. ‘Is that how you view your tenants? Is that how you think of them? And as for accusing Ben—’

‘Oho, Ben, is it? How very cosy!
And
he comes here almost every morning, I hear.’

She stood up suddenly. Her head reeled but she steadied herself against the chair. ‘You’ve no right to accuse me of infidelity when you keep a mistress in London.’

They glared at each other and then he shrugged. ‘So, what of it? It’s the done thing in
my
class of society.’ There was no mistaking the accent on the word
‘my’.

‘Well, it isn’t in mine,’ Annabel snapped. ‘I have been and always will be utterly faithful to you and if you choose to listen to the evil tongue of your sister,
then—’

‘Are you calling my sister “evil”?’

‘You’re twisting my words. I said she’s got an evil tongue. She’s obsessed with Theo being your heir and she’ll do anything –
anything
– to bring
that about.’ I’d better watch out, Annabel thought, though this she did not voice, or I’ll be finding myself lying at the foot of the stairs and when my baby’s born –
she shuddered – if it ever is, I’ll fear for its life.

Now, James stood very still, deep in thought. Then he came very close to her, looking down into her upturned face. ‘You know,’ he murmured, ‘you are far too beautiful for your
own good. I promised Dorothea that I would not consummate the marriage, but on our wedding night, when I saw you looking so lovely and willing to please me, well, what man could resist? Certainly
not me. So, I broke my vow.’

‘So you did marry me just for my money?’ Annabel said bitterly, feeling the tears start behind her eyes. She blinked hastily, determined not to cry in front of him.

He hesitated. Stated so baldly it made him look and feel like a heel. ‘It’s – not uncommon.’

‘In
your
world, no, I guess it isn’t. Actually,’ she added, trying to be rational now instead of emotional, ‘I don’t blame you so much as I do my father. His
ambition to see his daughter and his future grandson with a title overrode any affection he might have had for me, though,’ she added sadly, ‘I doubt he has any.’

They stood close together for what seemed an age and then he sighed so heavily, she felt his breath on her face. He held her shoulders, though more gently now. ‘Do you swear on your
child’s life that it is mine?’

There was no hesitation as she said solemnly, ‘I do. James, I fell in love with you in London and I still love you – but that’s my tragedy, isn’t it, because it’s
obvious that you don’t love – or trust – me.’ His face twisted with conflicting emotions. Did he love her even just a little? she wondered, staring up into his brown eyes,
trying to read the truth there. If not, then why was he so jealous? Didn’t that arise from love? Unless, of course, he regarded her as his ‘possession’, or he was angry because it
was she who was receiving all the praise for the improvements on the estate and, it had to be said, the undying gratitude – and yes, even love – of his tenants. Even Eli Merriman smiled
at her now when she passed by his shop. And as for Jabez Fletcher, from being so vindictive towards her, he was now her most ardent supporter.

But James was a soldier, she reminded herself. He was the sort of man who probably thought sweet words and declarations of love were unmanly. Even his proposal had been stilted and awkward.
She’d given him the chance now to tell her he loved her but when he remained silent, she whispered brokenly, ‘I swear to you, James, I have been faithful to you. This child is
yours.’

He stepped away and turned and strode towards the door. ‘Then we’ll say no more about it, but Jackson goes. I’ll tell him myself.’