Fairfield Hall (44 page)

‘There was some scandal attached to that family,’ one said, ‘but I can’t quite remember what it was.’

‘All I’ve read about the Lyndons is that the present earl fought in the Boer War. He was out of the country for months on end, years possibly. God alone knows what happened to the
estate in his absence.’

But God was not alone in caring for the Fairfield Estate and everyone on it. When James had known that he was to be sent to Africa, he had employed a new farm bailiff – Jim Chadwick.

‘Do you think you can keep an eye on Home Farm and the whole estate as well as manage your own farm, Chadwick?’ James had asked. ‘You will be well recompensed, but I need
someone I can trust.’

The offer had been a surprise and whilst Jim was doubtful whether he’d see anything in the way of ‘recompense’, he thought quickly what this could mean. ‘Aye,
m’lord, I’d be glad to. I’ve good lads working for me on my farm now, so running me own farm alongside looking after the estate’d be no problem for me. And we’ve got
good tenant farmers.’

‘That’s settled then,’ James had said and a few days later when he left to go to war, Jim had chuckled as he said to his wife, Mary, ‘Good job he doesn’t know what
I intend.’

Mary paused in kneading the dough on her kitchen table and stared at him, the question in her eyes.

‘I intend,’ Jim explained, ‘to keep in touch with Lady Annabel. Oh, she won’t be able to come here, of course, but I know she’ll give me good advice if I need
it.’

‘Does anyone know that you still see her now and then?’

‘Oh yes, but not one of them will say owt. Besides, I don’t see her in person that often, but I see her grandfather most weeks on market day in town. And, of course, I hear about
her.’

‘But you go every so often to the farm to take her the money. They all know that.’

‘That’s true,’ Jim had said. All those whom Annabel had helped financially were now making regular repayments to her, handing their hard-earned cash to Jim Chadwick, chosen by
all of them to take the money to Annabel.

‘And Ben Jackson? Do you ever see him?’

Sadly, Jim shook his head. ‘No, not from the day I took him to Moffatts’ farm.’

‘Does Ben ever come to market?’

‘No, Moffatt comes himself. But Ben’s still working for him. I ask after him now and then. And when I do see her, Lady Annabel wants to know everything about what’s happening
here. She’s not forgotten us.’

The estate continued to prosper. The number of livestock had increased steadily and good harvests had brought a modest income back to Fairfield. New – affordable – rents had been set
by James, following Jim’s suggestions.

‘And Dorothea?’ Annabel had asked him. ‘She didn’t argue with that?’

Jim had shaken his head. ‘I saw his lordship and we settled it between us. Proper contracts have been drawn up. Lady Dorothea can’t touch us, but his lordship has given her free rein
in the house, I understand.’

The big house, he told her, had been rejuvenated, the gardens were now immaculate and he’d heard from the folk working in the house that money had been spent on refurbishing every room.
‘John Searby says everything’s wonderful now, but they all miss you so much. It’s not the happy family home that you would have made it.’

Annabel had smiled wistfully at the compliment. How she would love to see the beautiful house just once more. But there was one piece of news that brought joy to Annabel on the day that Nancy
and her mother came to Meadow View Farm.

‘I hope you don’t mind us coming, m’lady, but I wanted you to know. Me and Harry are getting married.’

‘That’s wonderful news, Nancy. Do come into the house and tell us all about it. Is Harry leaving the army?’

‘No, no, m’lady, he doesn’t want to leave the captain, but he’ll get home whenever he can.’

When Nancy had told them her plans, she ended by saying, ‘I’d so love you to come to the wedding, m’lady, but . . .’ She stopped and bit her lip.

‘No, Nancy,’ Annabel told her gently. ‘I’d love to be there, you know that, but I really can’t.’ The young woman looked relieved, as if the matter had
troubled her. ‘But I’ll be thinking of you all on your big day,’ Annabel went on. ‘Never doubt that.’

So life had settled down into a routine, the years passed and soon it was time to consider Charlie’s formal education too.

‘What is it?’ Theo said, coming to stand beside Bertie at the window.

‘Look. See who’s getting out of that carriage over there.’

‘Oh my,’ Theo whispered, ‘it’s – it’s Aunt Annabel. And who’s the boy with her? Surely, it’s not . . .?’

‘It is. It’s Charlie. She must be bringing him to start school here too. Come on, let’s go down.’

They clattered down the stairs ignoring warnings from any passing master to ‘walk, boys, if you please’, and ran out of the front door and onto the driveway, skidding to a halt in
front of the newcomers.

Annabel looked at them and blinked. ‘Oh Bertie and – and Theo. Oh my goodness!’ She stretched out her arms towards them and, without a thought for decorum, they rushed to her,
enveloping her in a bear hug, even knocking her huge hat with its fancy plumes slightly awry.

‘How you’ve grown! Oh Theo, how lovely to see you.’

There were tears in the boy’s eyes. He hadn’t seen her since the night he had watched her walk away from him, down the driveway and out of his life. But he had never forgotten her
and since meeting up with Bertie at school, he had asked about her constantly. Bertie, of course, had seen her often in the intervening years.

Now Annabel turned and drew Charlie forward. ‘And this, Theo, is your cousin, Charlie.’

Theo grinned at the younger boy, who was looking very nervous. ‘How do you do, Cousin Charlie?’ Theo stuck out his right hand and shook the bewildered boy’s hand firmly.
‘We’ll look after you, won’t we, Bertie? Three cousins all together. What larks we’ll have.’

Annabel chuckled inwardly, but secretly hoped that news of any ‘larks’ would not get back to Dorothea.

‘Oh, they’re cousins all right,’ it was said in the staffroom when it was reported that there were now three boys connected in some way to the Lyndon family. ‘Crowstone
is the earl’s sister’s boy, Lyndon is the earl’s son, though it’s rumoured he’s not to inherit, and Banks, well, he’s the son of the present earl’s older
brother who died. Wrong side of the blanket and all that.’

Eyebrows shot up. ‘And Roper has admitted him to the school?’

‘Now, who in their right mind could resist Lady Annabel? It was she who brought him. And besides,’ the speaker lowered his voice, ‘I think a handsome donation to the school
exchanged hands on his admittance. By all accounts it’s her we have to thank for the new library.’ He winked and tapped the side of his nose. ‘And now her own son is here
too.’

‘Mm, they’ll need watching. I smell trouble from those three.’

But the master’s pessimism was misplaced. True the boys were high spirited and mischievous, but no more so than any other boy in the school.

When Annabel had left that first day, Theo and Bertie had escorted their young cousin to the dormitory he was to share with nine other boys. ‘You let us know if anyone bullies you.
We’ll sort ’em out,’ Theo promised.

‘I expect they might tease me about this,’ Charlie laughed, still a little nervous, but he was growing in confidence now that he had the support of his two cousins. He held up the
knitted rabbit that Bertie had given him. It was worn now, but worn through being loved and cherished. Annabel had mended it carefully more than once.

The two older boys stared at the woollen toy.

‘It’s Hoppy!’ Bertie grinned. ‘You kept him all this time.’ His face sobered. ‘But I’d keep him hidden, if I were you.’

Charlie settled in quickly. He missed his mother and great-grandparents dreadfully and he worried that something might happen to one of the older ones whilst he was away. But both Edward and
Martha, now seventy-six and seventy-five respectively, were still in remarkably good health and Charlie’s entry into boarding-school life was undoubtedly eased by the presence of his older
cousins. Word soon went around the school: ‘Don’t touch young Lyndon, else you’ll have Crowstone and Banks after you.’

Meadow View Farm seemed strangely quiet without Charlie and Annabel wandered through the house and farmyard for some weeks quite lost without him.

‘Tis for the best, my lovely,’ Edward consoled her, though he was missing the boy just as much and Martha shed tears every day. ‘He needs to go to a good school and be with
other boys. The time will soon pass.’

But it didn’t for Annabel; it passed all too slowly and she found herself counting the days until the next school holiday.

She had heard nothing from her husband. She presumed he had not divorced her for desertion or she would have known. Nor did she know if he had taken any action about disowning and disinheriting
Charlie. All she knew was that it was generally accepted that Theodore Crowstone was the Earl of Fairfield’s heir.

Of course, it was bound to happen one day. As Theo had told Bertie, his mother, Dorothea, rarely visited, but when, a year after Charlie’s arrival, Theo made the mistake
of doing so well in his term work and examinations that he earned the form prize for that year, Dorothea determined to attend the school’s Speech Day to see him receive his book prize.

‘There’s not a lot we can do to keep you two hidden.’ Theo wrinkled his brow. ‘If it’d been Sports’ Day, we might have managed to keep you out of her way, but
as the whole school attends Speech Day, there’s no chance.’ He turned to Charlie. ‘Is your mother coming?’

Charlie shook his head. ‘No. She said that because you’re receiving a prize, she knew your mother would want to come this year and she didn’t want anything to happen to spoil
your day.’

Theo sighed heavily as he murmured, ‘I’d have liked her to be here, though.’

‘Best not, eh?’ Charlie said softly.

‘Should we pretend to be ill?’ Bertie suggested. ‘Matron’d keep us in the sickbay, wouldn’t she?’

‘I doubt it, unless she thought you’d got something contagious. Old Roper expects us all to attend even if we have to crawl there.’

And so the three boys took their places with the rest of the three hundred or so pupils in the school’s vast hall. Parents and visitors sat at the back. Bertie and Charlie were nervous,
fearing a confrontation, but Theo seemed remarkably relaxed.

‘Have you got a plan, Theo?’ Bertie whispered as they filed into the hall.

Theo chuckled. ‘You could say that.’

‘No talking,’ came the stern voice of their form master. ‘Crowstone, you must sit at the end of the row, since you are to go up on stage.’

After what seemed an age, after the school hymn had been sung, the headmaster had given his annual report and the guest speaker had given his address, it was at last time for the pupils to
receive their prizes.

When his turn came, Theo marched proudly up to the stage as his name was read out, shook the speaker’s hand and received his prize as they had all rehearsed the previous afternoon.
Returning to his place beside Bertie, he winked at his cousin.

At the end of the prize giving, the speaker asked the headmaster to allow the whole school an extra half-day holiday, as was customary on such occasions. When Mr Roper smiled and inclined his
head, the whole school cheered. When the noise died away, the headmaster rose and instructed the school to be dismissed but added, ‘Will the prize-winners and their families please remain
behind. Afternoon tea will be provided in the canteen.’

As Bertie made to leave, Theo grabbed his arm. ‘You’re staying, old chap. And where’s Charlie?’

‘We – we can’t stay, Theo.’

‘Yes, you can, you’re my family.’

‘But your mother . . .’

‘There’s nothing Mama can say or do about it. And it’s high time she knew. We’re friends – the three of us – as well as cousins.’

‘But—’

‘Ah, there’s Charlie. Charlie, Charlie – over here.’

‘Less noise, Crowstone,’ a master hissed, but Theo only turned an innocent gaze upon him. ‘I’m just collecting my family together, sir, as the headmaster
instructed.’ The teacher frowned, but could say nothing. Theo, turning to his cousins, added, ‘Come along, let’s go and find this afternoon tea.’

Bertie and Charlie glanced unhappily at each other, but trailed after their older cousin. When Theo was on a mission, nothing they could say would dissuade him. Bertie squeezed the younger
boy’s arm. ‘It’ll be all right, Charlie.’

But Charlie wasn’t so sure.

It had only been during the previous school holiday that he had learned about the family feud. His grandfather had taken him for a long walk in the fields to explain it all to him.
‘You’re almost ten now, Charlie, and it’s high time you understood a little more about your family.’ So, very gently, Edward told his great-grandson all that had happened
ending, ‘But I want you to understand that none of it was your mother’s fault. She was wrongly accused of having an affair with another man other than her husband. You know what I mean
by that, don’t you?’

Charlie had nodded.

‘Your mother is a wonderful, caring and loyal woman. She would never have done such a thing, but your aunt is – I’m sorry to say – so ambitious for her own son to inherit
that she has spread these scurrilous rumours about your poor mother. And, sadly, your father has believed her.’

Charlie had looked up at Edward and, with a wisdom far beyond his tender years, said, soberly, ‘I expect my father didn’t really have much time to get to know my mother properly. You
said they didn’t get much time to spend together even after they were married, did they? And he’d believe his sister, wouldn’t he?’

‘That’s about the size of it, my boy.’

Charlie was silent for several moments before asking, hesitantly, ‘Do you think maybe Aunt Dorothea really did believe it or that she was being deliberately nasty so that Theo would
inherit?’

‘That’s a difficult one to answer, Charlie.’ Edward knew the answer to that, but even now he didn’t want to set the boy entirely against his own father by telling him
that Dorothea’s lies had fed the man’s obsessive jealousy. But he was startled by the young boy’s intuitive question. ‘Your cousin, Theo – has he said anything to you
about all this?’