Free Winter Roses by Amy Myers Page A

took only one small event to turn the tide. Certainly the changed mood had been obvious from listening to people talking, on her truncated walk in Kensington Gardens this afternoon.
    The front door of the Rectory opened as if by magic the moment she arrived. Percy had seen her coming, but it was Mrs Dibble who pushed him aside to break the news.
    ‘My Lizzie’s just had a fine baby boy.’ She looked as proud as if she’d produced it herself.
     
    Margaret decided she could do with a nice cup of tea herself, after taking Lizzie one. She’d forgotten how exhausting it could be running up and down stairs all the time, althoughshe’d done it not so long ago for Agnes. If it wasn’t for Myrtle and Agnes, she couldn’t cope, and that was the truth of it, and goodness knows how long Myrtle would stay once the baby had gone. No stamina these girls. She’d only been here three years.
    Agnes came into the kitchen after lighting the morning-room fire, for it was on the chilly side for September. ‘How’s Lizzie, Mrs Dibble?’
    Margaret sniffed. ‘Says she’s going to get up tomorrow. After two days. Not if I have anything to do with it.’
    ‘It might not do any harm, Mrs D. Better than staying in bed all day fretting—’
    ‘Fretting?’ Margaret picked up sharply.
    ‘About what she’s going to do. Hop Cottage is going to the Army along with the rest of the estate. That Swinford-Browne wrote to tell her. Fancy giving her less than a month to clear the place when she’s just had a baby.’
    ‘She’ll have to go back to Hartfield where she came from,’ Margaret said dismally. She’d expected it, but now it had happened it hit her all over again.
    ‘She can’t do that.’ Agnes looked worried. ‘They know she’s Mrs Stein there, and they know Rudolf. If she goes back with a baby, everyone will know exactly what the situation is. People aren’t kind, as you know, Mrs Dibble.’
    Margaret was uncomfortably aware there was a time when she hadn’t been kind, and though Agnes seemed to have forgotten it, she hadn’t. ‘She might want to stay here.’
    ‘Lizzie isn’t cut out for housework,’ replied Agnes gently. ‘Besides, there’s all Mr Eliot’s possessions to think of.’
    Margaret fastened on the latter problem. ‘He can come home. Compassionate leave they call it.’
    ‘I doubt it. He’s out east, Lizzie says. And even if he does, Lizzie would still need a home. I suppose,’ Agnes hesitated, ‘if I left I could find another position. Lady Hunney wants someone and—’
    Margaret interrupted her. ‘That’s good of you, Agnes, but you’re right. Even then Lizzie wouldn’t stay. There’s no need to upset yourself too.’
    ‘No, she’s an outside girl,’ Agnes agreed, looking much relieved.
    ‘She can’t live outside. She’s not a gypsy.’ Margaret returned to fighting form.
    ‘You know what I mean. I wonder now—’
    But the bell rang then, so she never did hear what Agnes had been going to say. It was her ladyship’s bell. Unusual. It was Miss Lewis’s opinion that Lady Buckford had been quiet recently only because she was thinking how to get her own back. So what was up now? It was against the rules for her to ring for the Rectory staff instead of her own.
    ‘Who’s going, Agnes, you or Myrtle?’
    ‘I’ll go. It’s not fair on Myrtle.’
    ‘No, I will,’ Margaret suddenly decided. She felt in the mood for battle. ‘You serve luncheon to the family.’
    Lady Buckford, ensconced in the wing armchair of her sitting room, registered no surprise. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Dibble. I am glad to see you, and not Agnes.’
    This was a turnabout, and no mistake, and Margaret proposed to treat it very cautiously indeed. ‘Thank you, madam.’ She made her voice as wooden as a forest oak.
    ‘I am concerned that the Rectory is not providing the lead it should to the village in times of warfare.’
    She knew it. There was trouble coming, though this sounded as if it were heading for Mrs