Page 76 of Scandal at Greystone Manor

Every day she left her bed and tottered round the room, hanging on to furniture. Round and round she went, stopping when she came to the window to gaze out at the gardeners tending the borders, hoping for a glimpse of Mark. Then on she went again, until she was exhausted. Day by day her legs strengthened until she could walk without support. The bandage was removed from her head, leaving a little bare patch where her hair had been cut away, but the scar had nearly healed and the hair would grow again. Janet had devised a style that used the length of her hair to disguise it.

The next step was to dress and go downstairs to sit in the parlour, sometimes alone, sometimes with Lady Wyndham, either sewing or reading or talking quietly. She began taking her meals in the dining room, which meant she saw and spoke to Mark, but his mother and the servants were always present and they had done little but exchange pleasantries. Even so, she felt the tension in the atmosphere, the constraints that prevented them even looking at each other properly. It was a kind of exquisite torture.

Her mother came frequently to see her, bringing her clothes, and so did Isabel and Sophie. Isabel’s moods of cheerfulness alternated with gloominess and Sophie’s bright chatter exhausted her.

‘Lord Bolsover has gone to Northamptonshire to tell his mother the good news,’ Isabel informed her on one visit. ‘And he was also going to see his lawyer about the transfer of the deeds and to draw up a marriage contract.’

‘But I have not agreed to marry him.’

‘He is assuming you will and so is Papa. You cannot turn him down, Jane, you really cannot. Everything depends upon it. He has even promised to pay for my wedding breakfast and we can invite as many as we please.’

‘Do you know how long he intends to be gone?’

Her sister shrugged. ‘How long does it take to do something like that? I did hear Papa tell Mama that he had withheld some documents about manorial rights and without those his lordship cannot proceed. But he will send for them, no doubt, so it is only putting off the inevitable.’

Jane had decided to go home the next day and was prepared to walk, but Mark would not hear of it and insisted on taking her in his curricle. It was the first time they had been alone together since the day he had picked her up off the floor and kissed her. She sat silently beside him, watching his capable hands on the reins and occasionally glancing up at him, but he kept his gaze firmly on the back of the horse. Instead of going down the main village street when he came to the crossroads, he turned off on to the road to Witherington.

‘Why are you going this way?’ she asked, breaking the long silence.

He turned to her with a gentle smile. ‘So that I may have a little longer alone with you.’

‘Oh.’

‘And also because I have something to show you.’

‘At Witherington?’ That he wanted to have time with her both pleased and worried her at the same time. But if she kept her mind firmly on the Hadlea Children’s Home and remained businesslike she might just manage to keep her composure.

‘Yes.’

‘The sale went through, then? I wondered if Lord Bolsover might try to delay it.’

‘He was only one of the beneficiaries and the others were all keen to sell. He is not as powerful as he would have us think, Jane.’

‘Powerful enough.’

‘We will not speak of him. Now, what do you see?’ He had turned into the gates of Witherington House, which had been replaced on their hinges and were standing open to reveal a drive cleared of weeds. The house itself had been divested of its festoons of ivy. ‘Mark, what a transformation! There’s new glass in the broken windows and they have all been painted.’

‘There are fresh tiles on the roof, too.’

‘However did you manage it?’

‘I didn’t do anything except point out what needed to be done. It was the people of Hadlea. They love and respect you, Jane, and when they heard from the Rector what you wanted to do with the place, every able-bodied man and some of the women and children came forward and spent their spare time here. I simply bought the paint, glass and tools.’

‘They must be paid.’

‘They said they didn’t want payment, but I insisted on giving them something.’ He drove round the side of the house and drew up in the yard where Mrs Godfrey was feeding chickens. These were new, too. ‘I thought the home ought to be as self-sufficient as possible,’ he said, jumping down and helping Jane to alight. ‘Good morning, Mrs Godfrey. Where is Silas?’

---