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‘For the first time in ages I slept like a baby.’ Anna looked at him in appeal. ‘Dad, you and Tom both saw Gramp more recently than I did, thanks to my stay in hospital. I really need this time here to say my goodbyes to him.’
He nodded slowly in agreement. ‘I’m sure an old friend like Ryder won’t object.’ He downed his tea and stood up. ‘Right. I must get back. Several people arrived last night, but quite a few more are booked in for today, so I’d better be on hand with Tom when they turn up. I’ll be back for you at—’
‘No, you won’t, Dad! There’s no point in doubling back from the village to collect me. I’ll drive over and meet you both there.’
He shook his head. ‘Stubborn to the last! We’ll wait for you outside the church, then. And wear something warm.’
‘Yes, Doctor.’
Anna kissed him goodbye, then cleared away the breakfast pots and went upstairs to deal with the bright hair inherited from the mother who’d died when Anna was eight. Of pneumonia, she thought with contrition. No wonder her father was concerned. But, unlike her delicate mother, she was normally as fit as a fiddle. By the time she’d vegetated here for a few days—subject to the Squire’s approval, she reminded herself acidly—she’d be strong as a horse again and ready to get back to her job.
At ten-thirty she was ready in the slim black suit worn with a silk camisole over one of the lacy vests Clare had waiting when Anna was discharged from hospital. She added a long black overcoat, brushed a stray tendril back into her upswept knot of hair and put on dark glasses. She locked up carefully and then on impulse picked a posy of snowdrops from a flower bed, and threaded them through a buttonhole.
When Anna arrived at the church it was no surprise to find a long line of cars there before her. Hector Morton had been much respected as well as universally liked. A decent turnout was only to be expected. Anna smiled as her brother, sober-suited and his thatch of dark hair tidy for once, hurried to give her a rib-cracking hug as he helped her out of the car.
‘You look pale but gorgeous with it,’ he said, holding her away to look at her. ‘I like the celebrity shades.’
‘Camouflage in case I cry.’ She eyed him in approval. ‘You look pretty good yourself, Tom. After the long hours you moan about I thought you’d be wan and haggard.’
‘I was when I got here, but the cure was simple—a night’s sleep followed by the biggest breakfast of my entire life,’ he informed her, grinning. ‘And, unless that’s a very clever paint job, you look a damn sight better than you did in hospital.’
‘I’m absolutely fine now,’ she said firmly as they joined their father.
John kissed her cheek. ‘You look lovely, darling.’ He took Anna and Tom aside as the hearse glided to a stop outside the lych-gate. ‘We follow him down the aisle,’ he said in an undertone.
Faced with the harsh reality of the flower-crowned coffin, Anna heaved in an unsteady breath, grateful for Tom’s supporting arm as they entered the church. From that moment on the entire service passed in one long act of self-control. She sang the hymns her grandfather had chosen and even managed to listen without breaking down when her father spoke with humour and deep affection about Hector Morton, beloved father, grandfather and lifelong friend to many of those present.
In the churchyard later Ryder Wyndham stood slightly apart from the other mourners, watching as Anna took snowdrops from her buttonhole to let them drift down on the coffin in silent goodbye. When she looked up at last she gazed at him for a moment through the dark, concealing lenses, then inclined her head in slight, unsmiling acknowledgement and turned away.
Shaken by the silent exchange, Anna would have given much to drive straight back to the cottage there and then. Instead she walked across the village green to the Red Lion and took her place beside her father and Tom to welcome an assortment of relatives and friends. She responded to kisses and condolences, assured people that she was well now and listened to affectionate reminiscences about her grandfather. Her tension mounted steadily until at last, during one of her regular checks to make sure no elderly relative was left alone, she saw Ryder Wyndham approaching.
‘How good of you to come,’ she said formally and held out her hand very deliberately to prevent him from kissing her cheek, as most other people had done.
He shook the hand briefly, his handsome face grave. ‘Hector was my oldest friend, Anna. I shall miss him very much.’
‘So shall I.’
‘Hi there, Squire,’ said Tom as he came to join them. ‘Long time no see.’
‘Far too long, Doctor.’ Ryder smiled warmly as he shook Tom’s hand. ‘You should take a break and go fishing with me again.’
‘Nothing I’d like better,’ said Tom promptly. ‘Look, we’re staying here tonight. Why not come over for a drink and a chat later when it’s quiet?’
‘Thank you. I may well do that.’ Ryder turned to Anna with concern. ‘You’re very pale. Let me get you some brandy.’
‘She’s just out of hospital. This was a huge strain for her today,’ said Tom, eyeing her closely. ‘How do you feel, love?’
‘Absolutely fine,’ she assured him and smiled politely at Ryder. ‘I’ll pass on the brandy, thanks, but I would like a word with you. Could you spare me a few moments tomorrow at the cottage—Mr Wyndham?’
His jaw clenched at the formality. ‘Of course, whatever time suits you.’
‘Eleven, then?’
‘Eleven it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak to your father.’
Anna nodded graciously. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’
‘You knew I’d be here.’ He turned to smile at Tom. ‘I meant it about the fishing. Give me a ring when the season starts.’
‘You bet, Ryder. Thanks a lot.’
Anna watched Ryder Wyndham thread his way through the room, pausing to speak with various people as he went.
‘Did I detect a certain froideur towards the Squire?’ asked Tom dryly.
‘Better not call him that to his face. I’ve heard he doesn’t like it.’ ‘He wasn’t too keen on the Mr Wyndham tag, either. What was all that about?’
She shrugged. ‘It seemed to suit the occasion.’
‘He was right, though. You look ready to drop.’ Tom gave her a professional scrutiny. ‘Look, I’ve had nothing much to drink yet, Anna. I’ll drive you back to Keeper’s. I can get your car back to you tomorrow.’
She shook her head firmly. ‘No, thanks, Tom. I’ll be much happier if you stay here to support Dad.’
Some people took so long over their leave-taking it was an hour before Anna could kiss her father goodbye and let Tom walk her to her car.
‘Text me as soon as you get back,’ he ordered. ‘And drive carefully.’
‘It’s not far, Tom!’
It was exactly three miles door to door from the church to Keeper’s Cottage, but it felt more like thirty to Anna by the time she parked outside in the lane. The garden path seemed longer than usual and the cottage so dark and quiet she switched on all the lights before sending a message to Tom to report in. Shivering with a mixture of reaction and cold, she turned up the heating and went upstairs to change. With a sigh of relief, she toed off her high black heels and exchanged her mourning black for grey flannel trousers, her heaviest roll-neck sweater and the sheepskin slippers her grandfather had bought for her in the local market on her last visit. She’d laughed at the time, but right now her icy, aching toes were deeply grateful for their warmth.
After a phone call to Clare to ask about her cold and report that all had gone smoothly, Anna unpinned her hair and wove it into a loose braid, then went downstairs to begin the ritual of making tea in her grandfather’s brown pot. She could cry at last if she wanted. But, in the perverse way of such things, she had no tears left now there was no one to see.
While Anna was looking through the cupboards to decide on her supper menu, Tom rang to ask if she’d changed her mind about having dinner with them.
‘No, Tom. The cottage is warm and, much as I’ll miss your company, I’d rather stay here and open a tin.’
He sighed. ‘OK, if you’re sure, Anna. It just seems wrong that we’re here and you’re up there alone.’
‘As soon as you and Dad get a weekend off together I’ll cook dinner in the flat. Clare would love that. So would I.’
‘Me too, great idea. OK—no more nagging. We’ll call in to see you when we set off in the morning. Have a good night, but ring if you need us.’
‘I’ll probably sleep like a log again. This cottage has good vibes for me, Tom, always has.’
‘I know. Otherwise Dad wouldn’t let you stay there alone, even at your age.’
Anna smiled as she rang off. These days no one ‘let’ her do anything; not even her father.
The doorbell rang while she was watching the ten o’clock news. She smiled fondly. Her father hadn’t been able to resist checking up on her after all. To reassure him that she was security conscious, she kept the new safety chain on as she opened the door, but her smile vanished as unmistakable blue eyes looked down at her through the aperture. The Squire, it seemed, had honoured his tenant with a visit.
‘May I come in, Anna?’ said Ryder Wyndham.
Her first instinct was a flat refusal for several reasons, not least because she was wearing the famous slippers and her face probably looked as grey as her sweater now her make-up had worn off. On the other hand, she needed a favour.
‘I won’t keep you long,’ he added.
Anna unhooked the chain and opened the door. ‘Come in, then.’
Her visitor followed her into the parlour, his hair, longer again now, almost brushing the beams. Anna waved him to a sofa and took the one opposite, wondering, not for the first time, if some gypsy blood had once nourished the Wyndham family tree. In his teens Ryder had traded on the look, sporting wild black ringlets and a gold earring that went well with slanting cheekbones and eyes surrounded by lashes that were still thick as flue-brushes, she thought resentfully. At the moment the eyes were surveying her with unnerving concentration.
‘In the churchyard today that knot of hair shone like a beacon among all the mourning black,’ he said at last, surprising her. ‘But worn like that you look about fifteen.’
‘Such a good thing for a woman to hear when she’s more than twice that age,’ said Anna, her tone as sweet and cold as the lemon sorbet she was partial to.
‘I know exactly how old you are.’
Her eyes glittered coldly. ‘You’ve told me that before.’
‘I called in at the Red Lion,’ Ryder said after an awkward silence. ‘Tom told me you came straight back here, too tired to stay there for dinner.’
‘It’s been a tiring sort of day.’
‘And you’ve been ill.’
She shrugged. ‘Something I’ll do my utmost to avoid in future. It worried my family and interfered with my job.’
The striking eyes remained steady on her face. ‘Are you still with the same firm of chartered accountants?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I hope to make partner soon.’
‘So I heard. Your grandfather was very proud of your success. He thought the world of you, Anna.’
‘It was mutual.’ She looked at him levelly. ‘Why did you come tonight instead of in the morning?’
‘Your father asked me to call in to check on you.’
She frowned impatiently. ‘He really shouldn’t have done that.’
‘It’s no great thing. I had to pass the cottage on my way home, Anna.’ Ryder stood up, his presence filling the low-ceilinged room. In place of the black tie and dark suit of the afternoon he wore a heavy navy sweater with casual cords, but as always, Anna thought resentfully, looked exactly right.
‘Since you are here we might as well talk now and save you some time,’ she said shortly, but he shook his head.
‘You look exhausted, Anna. I’ll come back in the morning. Goodnight. Sleep well.’ He looked down at her as she opened the front door. ‘Put the chain on after I leave.’
She gave him a curt nod. ‘Goodnight.’
Anna had been tired and ready for bed before RyderWyndham turned up. But sleep was a forlorn hope now without a warm bath to soothe down the hackles her visitor had raised without even trying. She knew perfectly well that she should have said her piece tonight, but sheer vanity had prodded her to look more appealing when she coaxed Ryder to let her stay in the cottage for a while.
Anna groaned next morning when she faced her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Looking like this she was in no state to do any coaxing. Her hair was a wild tangle after the steam of her late night bath and her face was milk-pale—something she’d have to put right pretty sharply before her father and Tom arrived and carted her off home to Shrewsbury whether she wanted to go or not.
Later, in a scarlet sweater chosen to lend warmth to her skin, Anna did some skilful work on her face, but her efforts failed to deceive the brace of doctors she was related to.
‘Bad night, obviously,’ said her father, looking worried.
‘My own fault. I took an unplanned nap during the evening,’ she told him. ‘Fortunately I was awake when Ryder called. Bad idea, Dad. You shouldn’t have asked him to do that.’
John Morton eyed her in surprise. ‘I knew he’d be passing on his way home. Besides, I thought you’d be pleased to see him.’
‘I was not looking my best by that time,’ she said tartly. ‘Not that it matters. Have you two got time for coffee before you take off?’
‘Sorry,’ said Tom regretfully. ‘I’m doing an outpatients clinic at two.’
‘And I’m seeing Father’s solicitor on the way back, so I must be off too,’ said John Morton, and peered into his daughter’s eyes as he felt her pulse. ‘How soon will you finish your antibiotics?’
‘Ten days to go.’
‘Good. But you look a bit anaemic to me, my girl. Add some extra iron to your vitamins.’
‘I’m already doing that, Dad.’
Once Anna had persuaded her men that she was perfectly capable of managing alone for a day or two, they drove off, one after the other, leaving her to wait for another visit from the Squire.
Ryder Wyndham arrived promptly at eleven, by which time Anna’s hair was in a careless-looking knot that had taken ages to achieve, and both she and the cottage were immaculate.
‘Good morning,’ said Anna as she let him in. ‘Coffee?’
‘Thank you.’
She opened the parlour door for him, but he followed her to the kitchen.
‘How are you today, Anna?’
‘Absolutely fine. Would you take the tray?’
When they were seated opposite each other in the parlour, Ryder took the cup she gave him and sat back. ‘For obvious reasons I was surprised when you asked to see me. So what can I do for you, Anna?’
She smiled politely. ‘Nothing too arduous. I just need your permission to stay on in the cottage for a few days. I’m supposed to convalesce for a while before even thinking of going back to work, and I’ll do that far better here than in London.’
He shrugged. ‘You don’t need my permission, Anna. It’s your grandfather’s house, not mine. He bought it from the estate years ago.’
‘What?’ She stared at him blankly. ‘Is that true?’
He looked down his aquiline Wyndham nose. ‘I’m not in the habit of lying, Anna. I admit it’s not our normal policy to sell off property, but Hector Morton served the estate faithfully all his working life, so my father made an exception in his case.’
Anna shook her head in amazement. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Surely you wondered why so much work was done here this past year?’
