‘I’ve never denied that she has spirit,’ Sarah said, boxing clever.
‘Guts,’ Ferdy said firmly. ‘It’s what drove the pioneers.’
‘Pioneering spirit,’ Sarah conceded with ponderous graciousness. ‘But this is hardly pioneering country.’
‘It is to her,’ Jarvis said reprovingly, and went off to ply his wife with tea, aspirin and husbandly concern.
‘Pity you had to ruin the effect at the last minute,’ Ferdy observed to his fulminating sister, then glided away before she could reply.
Meryl scored another triumph with the children’s fancy dress, talking to each of the eight contestants, letting them tell her who they were meant to be. There could be only one winner, but after Meryl’s
Jarvis would gladly have whisked her home at any moment, but she insisted on enduring tea at the vicarage and talking to everybody who dropped in, in the hope of seeing her. It was a masterly performance, but it lasted for hours and he noticed that she touched very little food and looked pale and drawn.
At last he said in her ear, ‘We’re going. No argument.’ And won a look of gratitude.
They just made it over the causeway as the night tide was rising. As soon as they arrived Jarvis said, ‘Put her to bed, Hannah.’
Meryl was asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. She awoke after a few hours to find the room almost dark, but with just enough light for her to discern the man standing looking out of the window. She slipped out of bed and came to him, resting her head on his back, her arms about him. He didn’t move at first, except to touch her hands on his chest.
‘How long have you been here?’ she whispered.
‘All night. I hoped you’d awaken. Meryl-’
‘Don’t say anything now. I’m here. And I’m awake.’
He turned silently, his arms went about her, and in the kiss he gave her she could sense his smile, just as she could sense the delight in his whole self as he gathered her to him.
They loved in darkness, as always, but this time she knew he was really there. Jarvis, the man, the person, was there with her as he’d never been before. Beyond the intense physical pleasure there was the pleasure of the heart. At the moment of greatest passion she thought she heard him whisper her name.
She longed to tell him that she loved him, but she would force herself to be patient. Too much was at stake to risk by rushing things. She ventured to murmur his name back, and drew his head against her quickly before he could react.
Afterwards there was silence. He seemed to have fallen asleep, as she’d always hoped. But after a few minutes she felt him rise and slip away. No matter. It had still been a better homecoming than she’d dared to hope for.
The next morning they went riding together, travelling for miles, enjoying the fresh air of early summer, content in the new peace that reigned between them. There was still a lot to be said, but for the moment they could stop by a stream, lounging on the ground while the horses drank, and look at each other, smiling.
‘I’ve been away for such a short time, yet it all looks different now,’ she observed.
‘I know. We’ve brought the cattle out of their winter quarters into the fields.’
‘And the mowing. I thought harvest wasn’t until August.’
‘We harvest the grain in August. In May we mow the grass so that it can be stored for winter feeding.’
‘I’ll learn.’
His eyes flickered to her, but he said nothing.
‘I wish you’d stayed with me last night,’ she said impulsively.
After a long pause he said, ‘I hate that room.’ He threw a pebble into the water. ‘My mother used to sleep there.’
‘You told me about her death-how they didn’t tell you until you came home-’
‘I knew she wasn’t strong. When she wasn’t on the step to greet me I thought she must be in bed so I ran upstairs to her room. I burst in, longing to see her-’
‘Oh, no,’ she whispered, torn with pity for the eager little boy running towards heartbreak.
‘The room had been stripped. No bedclothes, just a bare mattress. That was how I discovered she was dead. Now I never go there, except once when I thought there was an intruder-’ He gave her a brief smile, inviting her to remember that night. ‘At other times, I prefer it without light.’
She touched his face. ‘No wonder you don’t trust anyone. But don’t mistrust me, Jarvis. Don’t hide from me.’
‘That’s easy to say. A sensible man keeps himself hidden.’
‘That wouldn’t be a sensible man. It would be a stunted one. If he keeps himself a prisoner how can he ever reach out to anyone?’
‘I can’t argue with you. I don’t know how. You’re too good with words.’
‘And you think there’s nothing to me but words?’
After a moment he said quietly. ‘You know better than that.’ And for once it was the voice that spoke to her in the night. And suddenly the night was there with them, despite the sunshine. Memory was stronger. His eyes, too, were defenceless.
‘I thought you weren’t coming back,’ he said quietly.
‘I was always going to come back.’
‘Are you here to stay now?’
She hesitated. ‘I have to return once more, because I left in such a hurry-’
‘Yeah, sure. Well, just let me know when. Time we were going.’
The moment was over. Like a hunted creature that sees the glint on the gun barrel and darts away, he’d spotted danger and retreated into his prickly shell.
But she’d advanced a step into his confidence. The battle was winnable, she thought as they returned home.
Sometimes she asked herself why she bothered. She had a good life waiting for her on the other side of the Atlantic, people who admired her and things she had planned to do when she had control of her fortune. Why not just draw a line under Jarvis, go off and enjoy her life?
Because nothing was the same any more.
Life meant being here, with the man who’d seized painful hold of her heart and wouldn’t let it go.
What did he have to recommend him to her? His title? It meant nothing. His great estate? She could buy all the land she wanted.
His castle? She could probably buy one of those too, somewhere.
What then?
And here her inner arguments fell silent in the face of the truth. By floundering around, not really knowing what she was doing, she had somehow stumbled on the one man who could give her what she didn’t already have. His need.
She could add to that the need of his people, hundreds of them, all unwittingly giving her something that
Their fragile peace held for a while. One day Jarvis came home to find workmen crawling all over the castle with instruments.
‘They’re giving me an estimate for the central heating,’ Meryl explained. When he frowned doubtfully she engaged him eyeball to ball, saying, ‘I am Lady Larne. I am mistress of this castle,
‘You’re probably right,’ he agreed meekly.
He didn’t complain when the turnip mattress mysteriously morphed into the latest fully sprung wonder, not even when Meryl said, ‘I didn’t actually throw the turnips away. I mean, they’re part of England’s heritage, aren’t they? You can give them to the nation, and say, “Queen Elizabeth I slept on these”.’
He grinned. ‘No, she slept on cabbages in the West Wing.’
But the following week their truce began to fray when he said, ‘I’ve had Ned Race and his cronies onto me, complaining that you’re filling their wives’s and daughters’s heads with nonsense.’
