Mistress of Elvan Hall (2 page)

Anne sighed and pulled a blade of grass. She would not be an encumbrance to her parents, of that she was determined. She had a small amount of savings, and might even go to London where she was sure she could get a job. Besides, she loved London and could be happy there.

She paused as she chewed her blade of grass and stared down at a flash of colour in the Manse garden. Her mother had hung out something brilliantly red on the clothes-line, and with a lithe movement Anne was on her feet. The red article, which she suspected was her old swim-suit, was a signal since her schooldays that she was wanted urgently at home.

Anne brushed down her tweed skirt and zipped up her anorak, then set off at a pace. No doubt some well-meaning lady of the parish had come to call, and to reassure herself and her friends that Anne’s heart wasn’t broken, and that her marriage really had been called off by mutual consent.

Anne never resented interference of this kind, knowing that it was born of regard for her and her family.

Nevertheless, she thought with a sigh, it wasn’t easy to face the probing, with a natural smile, without showing
any
resentment. She quickened her steps. The sooner she got it over the better.

She took the path through the back garden and into the house through the kitchen door, passing her red swim-suit which flopped garishly on the clothesline. Her mother was brewing coffee and setting out cups on her best tray.

“Who is it?” asked Anne, peeling off her anorak. “Miss Simpson or Mrs. Clegg?”

“Neither,” said Mrs. Drummond, a speculative look in her eye. “It’s Mr. Wyatt ... for you.”

Anne gulped and turned to stare at her mother, the blood rushing to her cheeks while her hands sought her hair and tried to brush down her skirt at the same time.

“Oh, goodness! And just look at me—all covered with grass!”

The speculative look her mother was giving her deepened. Was this the real reason behind the sudden calling-off of a wedding which had been arranged for years? Surely Anne would not be foolish enough to lose Graham because of someone like Francis Wyatt ... someone beyond her reach?

“Have you written to ask for your job back?” she asked, as casually as she could. “I know you hadn’t intended to.”

“I told you it had been filled,” said Anne, trying to keep patient. “You know I couldn’t ask to go back, Mother.”

“Well, he seems determined to see you, because he said he would wait until you came home, however long you were away. Your father is entertaining him in the drawing room, showing him some of his published books.” Mrs. Drummond’s face suddenly softened into a smile. “He’s rather a charming man, really. He was genuinely delighted to look at those books, as though he had missed reading that sort of thing as a boy. I always find it rather touching to see a boy peeping out of a strong, dignified type of man. Look, dear, if you want to clean up, I'll hold the fort, only don’t be long.”

“Thanks, Mummy. I only want to wash my face and change my skirt and shoes.”

Anne looked fresh and lovely when she appeared a few minutes later in the drawing room, and Francis Wyatt leapt to his feet as he shook her hand.

“I ... er ... I was sorry to have news of your ... er ... your broken engagement,” he told her, the colour suddenly high in his cheeks.

Anne nodded briefly, and made little comment. Mr. Wyatt wasn’t very good at discussing personal affairs. He was much more sure of himself rapping out business letters which were always very lucid.

“It was by mutual consent,” she said. “Graham and I are very fond of one another, but not enough to marry. We’re like...
”
she glanced at her parents,
“
brother and sister, to coin a phrase.”

Stephen Drummond frowned.

“But you aren’t related, and it was always understood...”

“I know, but that was before we were old enough to fall in love...”

She broke off, her cheeks colouring, aware of Francis Wyatt’s eyes on her.

“Graham is too young to be tied down yet, anyway. He wants to enjoy his freedom a while,” she said, tossing her pale honey-coloured hair. “We understand each other perfectly.”

“It’s better to back out, then, before it’s too late,” put in Nell Drummond, trying to be helpful, and her husband sighed deeply.

“I suppose so. Young people please themselves these days, anyway. I think we had a more stable society when everyone obeyed the rules. Don’t you agree, Mr. Wyatt?”

“Oh, certainly, certainly,” said Francis, though Anne was glancing at him rather curiously. Had her successor, Louise Dalton, proved to be unsuitable after all? He was not the easiest of employers, but Louise had seemed the very soul of efficiency, one of those girls who really loved secretarial work.

Anne had often thought that she had chosen that for herself because it seemed the more suitable from an earning point of view. She had been good at it because it was in her nature to do things well, but she had not really loved the job. This crossroads in her life had made her wonder if she couldn’t take a different path.

Yet here was Francis Wyatt seeking her out again, and it was more than possible that he would ask her to come back.

What should she say? she asked herself, trying to merge into the background and view him dispassionately as he discussed present-day trends with her parents. She loved him. She loved his lean dark face and long slender fingers with bony wrists appearing from under his immaculate cuffs. She loved the straight look he often gave her from his dark eyes which could sometimes gleam with humour, but were more often full of thought. His father had died when he was barely out of his teens and his youngest sister a small child. He’d had precious little time to be a boy. He’d had to grow up too soon, thought Anne sadly. He hadn’t had enough fun in his life.

“You can talk in here, then,” her mother was saying. “Is that all right, Anne?”

She came out of her dreams with a start, aware that all three were looking at her questioningly.

“Ah ... yes, yes,” she replied, unwilling to admit that she had missed half of what had been said.

“Come on then, Stephen my dear. Help me carry the tray.”

The older man got up a trifle reluctantly, his stooped figure showing frailty.

“I’ll carry the tray,” offered Francis. “Here, let me do it, Mrs. Drummond.”

He took the tray from her and followed her to the kitchen. Stephen turned and looked at his daughter.

“It isn’t easy to decide about new paths, my dear,” he said gently. “Sometimes the old well-trodden ones are best. Sometimes new ones are pitted with holes.”

And sometimes they lead to treasures unknown, thought Anne, though she didn’t say so. A rush of affection for her father made tears prick her eyelids. He had been disappointed when she and Graham called off their marriage, but only because of his concern for her.

“I know, Daddy,” she whispered, kissing him. “But working for Mr. Wyatt
is
an old path, don’t forget.”

“Ah ... work,” murmured Mr. Drummond. “Girls were meant to be home-makers, not workers. Here’s Mr. Wyatt now.”

He held the door open for Francis, then closed it behind both of them, and Anne was face to face with the man she loved for the first time since she left the office.

“Shall ... Shall ... shall we sit down again by the fire?” she offered nervously, and he nodded his agreement. Again the heightened colour was in his cheeks, and she felt that he was as nervous as she. This, oddly enough, served to calm her down, and she smiled pleasantly as she drew up a chair for him.

“Now,” she commanded, “tell me why you’ve come.”

Francis Wyatt hitched forward a little on his chair, then regarded Anne gravely.

“Your marriage ... did not take place, then...
”
he said slowly.

“No. But there’s no need for you to feel responsible for me in any way. I know my position has been filled. I take it that Miss Dalton is proving efficient?”

Francis nodded, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere.

“Very efficient. She oils the wheels very effectively. Er ... please don’t think me impertinent, but was the decision to call off your marriage really by mutual consent?”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Graham is really too young for marriage. He’s a man, certainly, but he wants to get to know the world a little before he’s tied to a small corner of it. We’re the same age, you know, but women are usually more ready to settle down than men ... though perhaps not so much nowadays.”

“And you let him go.”

“Of course,” she said crisply.

She was becoming nervous of his searching questions, afraid of betraying the true reason behind her break with Graham. She clasped her hands and threw back the heavy golden hair, with a small toss of her head, then smiled at him.

“As I say, you mustn’t feel responsible for me, Mr. Wyatt.”

He frowned.

“How long have you worked for me, Miss Drummond?”

“Two ... almost two years.”

“Two years. We ... got to know one another quite well. I found you a soothing influence on my life. I felt your ... understanding. I need someone like you. In fact, I need you at Elvan Hall.”

So it was another job! Anne bit her lips as she began to assimilate what that would mean. Francis Wyatt often stayed at his flat in Carlisle during the week and was only home at weekends, and during the week she would be at the beck and call of his mother.

Anne remembered Mrs. Wyatt and recoiled a little. How could she work for a woman like her, who probably treated her underlings high-handedly, and whose orders were likely to be ill-considered in the first place?

“
I ... er ... at Elvan Hall?” she queried hesitantly.

“The house requires to be renovated, as I explained to you once before. It hasn’t been touched for some years, but care must be taken in order that the age and character of the house be preserved. I ... I feel that you would love my home, and appreciate its beauty. I know that I would be happier to leave on my trip to America if I thought you were at Elvan Hall.”

“You’re going to America?”

He nodded. “The contract we were negotiating is ours, but there are many problems to be ironed out. I shall be away for several weeks.”

Her heart unaccountably sank. Only now did she realise what balm it had been just to see him again, and now he was going away. Anne drew a deep breath. He could have no idea how she felt, or he wouldn’t ask her to stay at his home.

“I doubt if I could be of much use to you helping with renovations. I’m not an interior designer or anything like that...
”

“That has all been done. It’s a matter of carrying out the work.”

“Surely your mother...”

“My mother did not entirely approve of proposals which had my full support. She has ideas of her own. I ... I don’t want any changes made while I’m away. Please understand, there is much in the house to treasure and to preserve. A mistress of the house can leave her own mark, but she must be aware of what can be tastefully changed and what can be desecrated. It’s no ordinary house. That’s why I can’t even offer you a free hand, though I know, from knowing
you,
that you’d understand.”

Again Anne bit her lip. She would have no authority in the house to stop Mrs. Wyatt desecrating whatever she liked. She tried to put this point of view to Francis.

“But I’d have no authority over your mother.”

Francis Wyatt’s eyes looked very black as he gazed at her.

“You would ... as my wife,” he said quietly.

Anne wondered if she had heard aright.

“As your wife?” she asked stupidly.

He leaned forward eagerly.

“Yes. I’ve thought about it so much, Anne, and wondered if it would be fair to you. But it’s a heritage, you see. I feel you have it in you to love it all as I do.”

“But one ought to love a person for marriage, not a house,” she said, almost in a whisper. “One doesn’t marry for love of a house.”

The colour crept slowly up in his cheeks, then receded again, leaving his face very white.

“You couldn’t marry without love, Anne? Is that what you’re telling me?”

She was about to shake her head, then she paused, very much aware of standing at those crossroads her father had mentioned. She could send him away and keep to her well-trodden path, or she could go down a new unknown way, which could be full of pitfalls, but which might also have glories unknown with Francis by her side. Her love for him was almost overwhelming her, but would it be strong enough to live through future years if he had only liking, and respect ... affection even ... in return?

Yet other marriages had succeeded, which had been based on reasons other than love. She had yet to see Elvan Hall, but she remembered drinking in every detail eagerly, when Francis talked about it. He had been aware of her interest, and her love for beauty which had been cherished through the ages.

“Is it so important?” he was asking again.

“Are you offering me an ordinary marriage? I mean, would you prefer a marriage in name only?” The colour flooded her cheeks and she saw the tension in him.