Free Fairfield Hall by Margaret Dickinson

of his visit, James led her into the garden behind the house and to the summer
house at the end of the lawn. Annabel’s heart beat a little faster; she guessed what was about to happen. What she didn’t know was that her parents were watching anxiously from an
upstairs window.
    ‘Will she accept him, do you think?’ Sarah asked.
    ‘She’d better,’ Ambrose muttered morosely. ‘But she can be very stubborn.’
    ‘Perhaps she needs a little more time.’
    ‘Time? What does she need time for? Doesn’t she realize how much it’s cost me to bring this about?’
    Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘I rather hope not. Our somewhat wayward daughter has strict codes of what she believes is moral behaviour and I don’t think she’d approve of a
suitor being—’
    ‘I blame your parents for that. No ambition, that’s your father’s trouble. Just content to run his farm and live the life of a country yokel. Thank God you’re different,
Sarah.’
    ‘You wouldn’t have married me otherwise, would you?’ Sarah remarked.
    Ambrose turned to look at her. ‘Nor you me, my dear.’
    Sarah laughed drily. ‘That’s true enough.’
    ‘But together we’ve climbed mountains, haven’t we? And now –’ He turned back to look out of the window. ‘And now there’s just one more summit to reach,
if only . . .’
    In the seclusion of the summer house, the young couple sat side by side gazing at the smooth lawn, the well-kept borders filled to overflowing with brightly coloured flowers.
    James took her hand and turned to face her. ‘I have spoken to your father and he has given me permission to propose to you. Annabel – dear Annabel – would you do me the great
honour of becoming my wife?’
    She looked into his eyes, trying to read his true feelings for her. She ran her tongue nervously around her lips. ‘Shouldn’t – shouldn’t I meet your family first? I
mean—’
    ‘There’s only my mother, my sister and her son and when I tell them how much I – I love you, they will understand. I want us to be married soon – very soon.’
    ‘Why? What’s the hurry?’
    ‘I have to return to my regiment. I’m a soldier, Annabel, and I have been absent for a very long time – with special permission, of course.’
    She frowned. ‘You mean that, normally, you’re away from home a lot?’
    ‘Yes. Until May of last year I was in Singapore, but I’m based in Woolwich for now. But I may be sent abroad again at any time.’
    ‘Oh!’ This was startling news. ‘I – I thought you would run your estate. I overheard what Lady Fortesque said to you – about – about losing your father and
then your elder brother. She hinted that you might leave the Army. In fact, with all the time you’ve spent in London during the Season, I thought that perhaps you had already done
so.’
    ‘I’m no farmer. I leave that in the hands of my estate bailiff. The Army is my life, Annabel, you must understand that.’
    ‘But what if there’s a war? Would you have to go?’
    ‘Of course.’
    Annabel stared at him. She couldn’t understand anyone wanting to leave their farmlands in the hands of someone else whilst they went off to fight in some far-off country. ‘But
– but don’t you at least want us to be married from your home?’ Although the custom was for marriages to take place from the bride’s home, Annabel realized that amongst the
aristocracy, grander weddings than her home could offer were expected.
    But James was shaking his head. ‘No, that won’t be possible. My mother is still in mourning.’
    Annabel’s eyes widened. If there had been a recent bereavement in the family, she was surprised that James had taken part in the Season. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Your
father?’
    ‘No, he died nearly three years ago. My elder brother, Albert, inherited the title, but he died very suddenly last December. It was a great shock to us all.’
    ‘And so,’ Annabel murmured, ‘you’ve become the sixth earl, but you never