Free Lavender Lady by Carola Dunn Page B

protested, “I was going to move lessons into the dining room if you truly wish us to take meals here with you.”
    “I’m not afraid of him,” said Robbie stoutly, “for we go on famously together, don’t we, sir?”
    “Do you not think I should beat you with a cane?”
    “No, for you cannot get up, and besides Hester would not let you, would you, Hester?”
    “It’s all a hum,” Susan told him scornfully. “Mr. Fairfax don’t wish to teach a clothhead like you.”
    “Nor will he wish to eat with any of us if this squabbling continues,” pointed out Hester. “Geoff, I think it is coming on to rain. You’ll not be working outside this afternoon?”
    “No, I suppose not. If you have time, I should like to show you the cottage plans Barstow’s bailiff gave me. There are one or two things I don’t understand.”
    “Oh dear, I am sure you know more about it than I do. Though I’ll have a look if you feel I might be able to help,” Hester consented valiantly.
    “Now there I might be of assistance,” put in Mr. Fairfax. “I have some experience in the matter.” Noticing Hester’s surprised look, he hastily added, “A friend of mine with a large estate was building, new cottages a few years ago, and he asked my advice. I found the subject interesting and did considerable research into modern building methods.”
    In fact, his father had not been in his grave a year before he had begun rehousing all his tenants. He was no absentee landlord wringing every penny from neglected land, though he did leave the day-to-day running of his estate to a steward. A steward who was elderly and slowing down and ought to be training a replacement, he thought, looking speculatively at Geoffrey.
    Unaware of the tentative plans being made for his future, Geoff was full of gratitude for the present offer of assistance. He even helped Rob and Susan clear the table in his haste to explain his difficulties to Mr. Fairfax and obtain his views on the excellence, or otherwise, of the plans.
    Mr. Fairfax, favourably impressed by Geoffrey’s grasp of the subject, was able to solve the problems and make several useful suggestions. They were deep in a discussion of the ways in which the lot of the rural labourer might be improved when James came in with his Greek books.
    Acres of plans were removed from Mr. Fairfax’s legs to the table, where Geoff continued to study them, and the Greek lesson commenced, interrupted by occasional queries about damp courses and flues. Hester, dismissing objections, had moved the children’s lessons into the dining room.
    At about four o’clock, she went to make tea. Robbie accompanied her to the kitchen, where he cut himself a huge doorstep of bread and butter and then made his escape by the back door. It was no longer raining, though the sky was grey and a chill wind blew, so Hester let him go. Not that rain would have stopped him.
    While the kettle boiled, Hester cut some bread. On a day like this, it was pleasant to make toast at the fireside. It always had a special smoky flavour to it, even if it did burn a bit.
    Sending Susan to fetch Alice, who was sewing in the baby’s room, she made the tea, set everything on a tray, and carried it across the hall. Alice, the baby in her arms, was just entering the parlour with Susan on her heels. Looking past her sisters, Hester saw a welcoming light spring into Mr. Fairfax’s eyes. Her suspicions were confirmed; he loved Alice.
    Thrusting the tray into Susan’s hands, she muttered, “Strawberry jam,” and hurried back to the kitchen, where she sank onto a stool and burst into tears. Even as she wept, she told herself that she was being very silly. At his age, she pointed out to herself, he must have been in love before, and disappointment had obviously not killed him. Alice might even learn to return his regard. And if she did not, but broke his heart, why should she, Hester, be weeping for him? Anyway, it was more than likely that the welcome had