Page 79 of The Farmer Has a Wife

This was too much, Eleanor thought. “You were the one who taught me to hide my feelings,” she protested.

“In polite company, yes,” said Isabella. “But a real lady will show her emotions to those who matter. When I think of some of the fights that your grandfather and I had. He was a passionate man.”

“He was?” Eleanor said, thoroughly shocked.

“In front of me, of course,” Isabella said. “He hid nothing from me, and I nothing from him. But what went on behind closeddoors was our own business. Danni, on the other hand, grew up in a different style. I think you might find that our stiff-upper-lip nonsense doesn’t do much for her. Tell me, does she matter to you?”

The question made Eleanor’s stomach twist. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then,” Isabella said, “perhaps it’s time you let her see that.”

Eleanor huffed. “So what? I should arrange a flash mob? Hire a hot air balloon? Perhaps graffiti my declarations on a motorway bridge?”

Isabella serenely sipped her tea. “You should do what is right. Do what Danni would like.”

Eleanor mulled that over. She wasn’t demonstrative. But perhaps that was going to be necessary. Perhaps to win Danni over, if she could win Danni over, she’d need to open up, reveal what was beneath the shell.

She swallowed, the thought was unnerving.

“My dear,” Isabella said, taking pity on her. “You were about to give up a grand inheritance for the woman. I should think that you could find the courage to open your heart to her, don’t you?”

Eleanor nodded.

“And if not,” said Isabella thoughtfully, “you might ask that Samson. He looks like a man with a few romantic ideas. Such a shame that he’s already married.”

“Grandmama,” Eleanor said.

“What?” asked Isabella. “I’m old, not dead. And perhaps it’s time that I demonstrated to you that being honest about one’s wants and desires is no bad thing.”

“Please, no,” said Eleanor, feeling slightly faint.

“Very well,” sighed Isabella. “In that case, I suggest you go about your business and leave me to my tea. But a word of warning, don’t leave things too long. No one likes to wait around. Particularly if they think that no one is coming.”

Eleanor stood up. “Thank you,” she said softly, dropping a kiss on Isabella’s cheek.

“Go and fix what you so clearly broke,” said Isabella. “Andbring Danni with you to visit next time. Or, failing that, Samson. I could use a little cheering up.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes and went back into the large drawing room.

THE ROAD UP to the farm was so familiar by now that it almost felt like driving home. Except this wasn’t home, as Eleanor had to keep reminding herself. It was evening now, the light getting softer, the smells of cut hay and animals coming in through the open car window.

She still wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do or say. She just knew that she couldn’t wait a moment longer.

But as soon as she pulled up in front of the house, she knew something was wrong. A quiet, sinking feeling settled in her gut. The place was deserted.

The farmhouse was eerily still. There was no sign of Danni’s old Land Rover, no lights in the farmhouse window, no scent of cooking, no sound of Tommy whistling somewhere off in the back barn. It was as if the farm had been abandoned.

Panic started to rise in her chest. She had taken too long. She’d spent so much time trying to figure out what to do and how to do it that she’d missed her chance entirely.

She turned in a slow circle, scanning the property. No lights. No movement. Nothing.

Her breath hitched.

It couldn’t be. Had Danni… left? The thought sent a wave of nausea rolling through her, made her skin clammy and her breath come faster.

For the first time in her life, Eleanor felt truly afraid, well and truly lost. And she had no idea what she was supposed to do next.

Chapter Thirty-Four

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