Fairfield Hall (25 page)

‘Oh m’lady, whatever are you going to do? Do be careful.’

‘I’m going to meet them and tell them that they are no longer welcome in Fairfield village.’

‘Not on your own, surely?’

‘No, I shall ask Ben and probably Jim Chadwick and Adam to be with me.’

‘Take young Luke, an’ all. He’s handy with his fists,’ Nelly said. ‘Well, he used to be before we started having to go without food.’

‘I hope it won’t come to a fisticuffs, but, yes, I’ll take him along.’

That evening, as dusk fell, five shadowy figures walked along the street towards the solitary cottage on the outskirts of the village. Annabel had not asked the vicar to go
with them. On reflection, she had felt that it would put him in a difficult position.

‘Are you sure Nancy is going to agree with this?’ Jim whispered through the gloom.

‘I’ve talked to her. It’s what she wants more than anything – to have her mother home and be accepted back into the community once more.’

Adam laughed ironically. ‘You’re asking a lot there, m’lady. I don’t think the villagers will want to have owt to do with her.’

Annabel smiled grimly. ‘We’ll see,’ she murmured.

When they arrived at the cottage, Nancy opened the door before they had even knocked. Shyly, she ushered them into the small living room. Her face was bright red and she could not meet the eyes
of the four men who were with Annabel.

‘Where’s your little boy, Nancy? I don’t want him involved in any of this.’

‘He’s in his bedroom. He won’t come down.’

‘Well trained, is he?’ Jim Chadwick muttered and Nancy’s colour deepened.

‘What time are they due?’

‘Any time now, m’lady.’

‘Then we’ll sit down to wait, if we may?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I—’ Whatever Nancy had been going to say was cut short by a soft knock at the back door.

Before Nancy could make any move, Annabel went to open it.

‘Well, well, well, what have we here? Another pretty girl to entertain us?’ A man’s deep voice came out of the darkness.

‘Hardly,’ Annabel said crisply, as the four men accompanying her ranged themselves protectively behind her. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen, but your visits here
are to stop.’

‘Now, look ’ere, we’ve paid Nancy good money over the years. She owes us—’

‘She owes you nothing.’

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ A second man stepped out of the shadows and thrust his face close to Annabel’s.

‘I know who I am,’ she said quietly, unmoved by his threatening action, even though her insides were churning. ‘But, more to the point, do
you
know who I am?’

‘Another little whore who wants to cash in on Nancy’s business.’

‘Oh, a business, is it? And do you keep records of all the transactions? I’d love to see the entry in your ledgers.’

‘What are you talking about, you stupid bitch?’

At her shoulder, Ben moved closer. ‘That’s enough. You’ve heard what Lady Fairfield has said. Now, be on your way and we don’t want to see you back in this
village.’

‘Oh aye, an’ who are you? You’re his lordship, I suppose.’

‘No, and we don’t want to get his lordship involved – unless it becomes necessary.’

The stranger shook his fist in Ben’s face. ‘You ain’t heard the last of this. We’ll be back. You can’t stand guard outside her house morning, noon and
night.’

‘That’s true,’ Annabel admitted quietly. ‘But if you do come back, I shall find out exactly who you are and where you come from and I shall pay a visit to town. Where do
your wives think you are? In the local pub having an innocent drink with your mates?’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Oh, but I would.’ The threat was no idle one and the two men realized it.

‘Come away, Sid. Leave it. There’s plenty more trollops who’d be only too pleased to oblige us.’

‘Mebbe. But they’re not like Nancy. She’s—’

‘That’s enough.’ Jim now stepped forward, afraid of what filth was going to come out of the man’s mouth. ‘Be on your way.’

‘And don’t come back,’ Ben added.

By the time they had closed the door on the two men, Nancy was shaking and in tears. ‘They’ll come back, I know they will.’

‘Don’t open the door to them,’ Annabel told her. ‘And keep Bertie inside in the evenings – just in case.’

‘I don’t think they’d hurt him. They’re not
bad
men. Just . . .’ She bit her lip and avoided Annabel’s eyes.

‘We’ve spoilt their fun and they’re angry,’ Jim said. ‘Begging your pardon, m’lady.’

‘Quite,’ Annabel said tartly, but had to struggle to hide her smile.

‘You go home, m’lady,’ Jim offered. ‘Me and Adam’ll stay with Nancy a while until we’re sure they’re not going to come back. Mr Jackson and Luke can see
you safely home.’

‘If you’re sure . . .’ she murmured, not sure what their two wives would think about the arrangement. She turned to Nancy. ‘I’ll go back to the workhouse tomorrow
and explain to your mother what has happened. Maybe that will help her change her mind.’

As they walked out into the darkness, back the way they had come, Ben said softly, ‘It might change her mam’s mind, but I doubt it’ll change the villagers’ feelings
towards her. They don’t forgive or forget easy, m’lady.’

‘Mm. I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe they will when I’ve had my say in church after the service on Sunday.’

Though she couldn’t see him through the gloom, Ben’s mouth dropped open and he gaped at her. Whatever would this amazing woman do next?

The following morning, Annabel took the trap, driving herself, and went back to the workhouse. Again she faced the master over his desk. ‘I have come to take Mrs Banks
home.’

‘I understand she doesn’t want to go.’

‘Things have changed now. I would like to talk to her again, if you please.’ Annabel gave him the full benefit of her dazzling smile, her violet eyes sparkling as she added,
‘You’d be doing me a great favour if you’d allow me to see her again.’

The man stood up and gave a little bow. ‘How can I possibly refuse you, Lady Fairfield? Please be seated and I’ll send for some tea and – for you – I’ll go and find
the dear lady myself.’

As he left the room, Annabel was chuckling to herself. She doubted the master had ever before had cause to refer to one of the inmates as a ‘dear lady’.

A maid brought in a tray set with two cups and saucers, a pot of tea and milk and sugar and, a few moments later, the master ushered an obviously reluctant Agnes Banks into the room and then
closed the door quietly, leaving the two women alone.

‘I’m not coming home, m’lady,’ she said, before she’d hardly got into the room.

‘Sit down, Mrs Banks, and we’ll have some tea. I’ll pour, shall I? How do you like it? Milk? Sugar?’

The woman nodded in answer to each question and sat down on the edge of the chair opposite. ‘It’s a long time since I had a decent cup of tea. I expect it’s too expensive for
us to be given it in here.’

‘Now,’ Annabel said, handing her the tea. ‘A lot has happened since I last saw you. With the help of some of the menfolk from the village, I went to Nancy’s cottage last
night and we were waiting for her friends when they arrived. They left in no doubt that they are no longer welcome, either at Nancy’s home or in the village. Nancy and your grandson, Mrs
Banks, want you to go home.
I
want you to go home. Things are going to be very different.’

‘How can they be?’ the woman whispered. ‘We’ll still be outcasts in the village. How can I ever hold my head up again?’

‘I’m very much hoping that when I’ve spoken to the villagers after the service in the church tomorrow, they’ll be prepared to help you both have a fresh start.’

Agnes shook her head sadly. ‘They won’t.’

‘If that’s the case, then I’ll help you both to move somewhere else. I’ll buy the cottage from Nancy and that will give you some money to start somewhere else.’

Agnes gaped at her. ‘Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to help us?’

‘Because I want to revive the fortunes of the Fairfield Estate and everyone on it. And that includes you and Nancy.’

‘Even if we stayed, what could we do? How could we earn money?’

Annabel smiled and said gently, ‘The rooms you and Nancy once occupied above the grocer’s shop as dressmakers are still empty. Perhaps . . .’

There was a sudden spark of interest, of hope even, in the woman’s eyes. But it was gone almost as quickly as it had come. ‘The locals’d never patronize us in a million years.
And besides, not one of them has the money to be spending at a dressmaker’s.’

‘Not immediately, no. I understand that, but given time . . .’

Mrs Banks considered Annabel’s suggestions for several minutes before placing her empty cup and saucer back on the tray.

‘First, m’lady, let me say how very grateful I am for everything you’re trying to do.’

Annabel’s heart sank, believing that the woman was still adamant she wasn’t going home, but Agnes’s next words surprised her. ‘So I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
If you can come back to me on Monday morning and tell me that the villagers are prepared to give Nancy – and me – another chance, then, yes, I’ll go home. And I’ll try what
you suggest. We’ll set up as dressmakers once again, though where we’ll find the work, I don’t know, but we’ll try.’

Annabel beamed and held out her hands to the woman, clasping them in hers. ‘That’s wonderful. Nancy will be thrilled.’

‘No, m’lady, please don’t tell her. Not yet. See how things go tomorrow, eh?’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Annabel said, realizing suddenly just what an enormous task she had set herself.

On the Saturday afternoon, Richard sat in his study pondering how to write his sermon for the following day. He knew exactly what he wanted to say – what he needed to
say. He reached for the appropriate lectionary sitting on the shelf above his desk and turned to the page that would tell him what the readings set for that date were. Slowly, he smiled. One of the
choices was just perfect.

During the morning service, at the end of the hymn preceding the Gospel reading, the congregation remained standing as Richard Webster took the Bible down the chancel steps and stood amongst his
parishioners as they all turned to face him.

‘The holy Gospel is written in the seventh chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew beginning at the first verse.’

The congregation responded with the words ‘Glory be to thee, O Lord.’

Richard cleared his throat and began to read, ‘“Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged . . .”’ and ended with the words,
‘“Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets.” This is the Gospel of the Lord.’

And everyone responded, ‘Praise be to thee, O Christ.’

Richard moved to the pulpit, said a short prayer and the congregation sat down, turning their gaze up to him as he began his sermon inspired by the words he had just read.

When, at the end of the service, the vicar announced that Lady Fairfield wished to address them all, there was shuffling and murmuring amongst the villagers.

Today, neither the dowager countess nor Lady Dorothea were present and for that at least Annabel was thankful. But everyone else seemed to be there except for Dan Broughton. Even Nancy and her
son had crept into the back pew just as the service was starting. One or two saw them arrive and raised their eyebrows at each other. No doubt word had already gone around the village about what
had happened at her cottage on Friday night and now they were curious. Richard Webster, knowing what Annabel intended to do, had already played his part by the content of his sermon.

As Annabel stood in front of them all and waited for silence, she suddenly realized how nervous she was. Her insides were quaking, her hands actually trembling. But she lifted her head and
smiled around at them putting on a display of bravery that she wasn’t feeling inside. ‘I have a favour to ask of you all.’

‘Aye, I thought there’d be a catch to all this philanthropy,’ Jabez said loudly, but Annabel noticed that he was smiling as he said it and he was ‘shushed’ by those
near him.

‘No, Mr Fletcher, this isn’t emotional blackmail. Nothing will change in what I plan to do for the estate, even if you all say “no”. I’m not bargaining with
you.’ Her glance fell on Nancy, who had gone red in the face and had dropped her head. Only her little boy sitting beside her stared at Annabel, his face solemn, his eyes so sad.

Annabel drew in a deep breath. ‘I’m sure most of you have heard by now what happened at Nancy’s cottage on Friday night.’

Whispering broke out once more and heads leaned towards each other. Annabel raised her voice. ‘Things are going to be very different now. Mrs Banks will be coming home and she and Nancy
will be resuming their dressmaking business. I’m asking you to forgive and forget and give Nancy a fresh start. I know her story and – let’s be quite honest here – it
wasn’t her fault at the outset. She’s not the first maid in a big house to be seduced by the master or the master’s son, now is she? And sadly, she probably won’t be the
last.’ She paused, glancing around her.

A woman sitting halfway down the aisle got to her feet slowly and hesitantly. Annabel saw that it was Betsy Cartwright. In her gentle voice, Betsy said, ‘M’lady, you say it
won’t make any difference to what you’re still going to do for us all, whatever we say?’

‘That’s right, it won’t.’

‘But you know how grateful we all are for what you’ve done already. How can we refuse you?’

Annabel shook her head. ‘I don’t want that sort of gratitude, Betsy. All I want is for you all to be well and happy and thriving and the estate to be as it once was. You have a
perfect right to refuse if you all feel you can’t forgive what has happened. I know I’m asking a great deal of you to accept Nancy and her family back into the community and to treat
her as you treat all your other neighbours. But if you can find it in your hearts . . .’ She paused, hoping that Richard’s earlier sermon had found its mark.