CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Daniel had reserved a pair of comfortable bedchambers separated by a private parlour at the Anchor in Upton-on-Severn. They arrived in time for a belated tea after which – conversation between them throughout the journey having grown increasingly stilted within ten minutes of leaving their wedding breakfast – Anna gratefully accepted Daniel’s suggestion of a stroll along the riverside.

Looking about her with appreciation, she said, ‘I haven’t been here for years and had forgotten how pretty it is.’

‘A good choice, then?’

‘Very good.’ They walked on in silence for a few minutes until Anna said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry that Rebecca isn’t happy about us marrying. I hope she’ll change her mind because I’d like us to become friends.’

‘And I’m sure you will do so.’ He hesitated briefly. ‘Her attitude isn’t personal, Anna. It’s the situation she’s angry about. She can’t forgive Father for leaving the family on the verge of ruin. To my shame, neither can I.’ He stopped, then immediately added, ‘And that’s enough of that.’

Anna disagreed and, without stopping to think, said, ‘Forgive me, but I don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of. Your resentment is natural and is not purely on your own account. You are angry on behalf of your mother and sister and the tenants on the estate – towards all of whom your father failed in his responsibilities. Had my father died leaving a similar situation, I’d feel the same. Anyone would, I believe.’

‘Perhaps.’ Although a part of him appreciated that her words were well-intentioned, another part recoiled from any notion of sharing his innermost feelings. He said, ‘Shall we continue as far as the bridge before returning to the inn? By then it will be almost time to change for dinner.’

And, recognising the quietly but firmly closed door, she nodded. ‘By all means.’

***

Sitting before the mirror while Ruth re-pinned her hair, Anna mentally searched for acceptable topics of conversation during dinner and came to the depressing conclusion that there weren’t many. He’d made it clear that there was an invisible line she wasn’t permitted to cross and behind which he kept everything personal. He didn’t mind telling her how Rebecca felt but wasn’t remotely comfortable talking about how he did.

I need to remember that, she thought. This is a business arrangement. Nothing more than that. And if I trespass too far or too often, he’ll strengthen his defences .

Daniel, meanwhile, told himself to be more careful, not just about which boxes he opened, but how far he opened them. At best, this marriage was supposed to gradually become a pleasant but undemanding friendship; polite but not close … at least until they were more used to each other and perhaps not even then. And already he appeared to have accidentally invited her to offer him comfort which he neither wanted nor needed and had therefore resulted in him immediately and none too subtly shutting her out.

What possessed me to ask for dinner to be served up here? he asked himself . What on earth are we going to talk about? Then, with rising desperation, And how the devil are we going to get through the whole of tomorrow? There’s a limit to how many questions I can ask about the manufacture of porcelain – and an even greater one on my attention span for the answers. But what else is there?

When Anna presently joined him in the parlour, she had resumed her usual air of cool self-possession and, accepting the glass of wine he offered her, said simply, ‘Perhaps it would be a good idea if you told me about Reculver.’

Daniel blinked. ‘In what particular?’

‘Since I have neither experience nor knowledge of life on a country estate, all of them. But suppose we start with what will be expected of me as your wife.’

‘Expected by whom?’

‘By you,’ she replied patiently, ‘and your tenants and the villagers? At first I supposed that it wouldn’t be so very different to Hawthorne’s … but I’ve realised that isn’t true. There , I see the people I employ in their workplace. At Reculver, I’m more likely to be visiting tenants in their homes, am I not?’ She paused and, when he said nothing, ‘But perhaps you’d prefer that I consult your mother about that? Or simply not interfere at all in matters which have always been her province? I have no desire to usurp her position or to encroach where I should not.’

He eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. Then, ‘You won’t.’

‘I might. I wasn’t brought up to be lady of the manor.’

‘If what I saw outside the church this morning is any indication, you know as much as you need to,’ he replied. And, with a glimmer of humour, ‘Certainly more than my mother does. She means well, of course, but she’s never had an easy rapport with the tenants. If you care for my people as well as you’ve cared for your own, I doubt there will be any complaints.’

Colour bloomed in her cheeks and she sought refuge in her glass. Finally, she said dispassionately, ‘I hope not. But I’m a stranger to them. So if I make mistakes, you must point them out to me – because they won’t feel able to do so.’

Finally recognising that she was genuinely concerned, Daniel said, ‘What is it you’re afraid of getting wrong?’

She thought for a moment.

‘Mostly, intruding where I’m not wanted. If I see a need, I’m likely to act on it instead of waiting for people to ask. It … it doesn’t always go down well.’

‘It doesn’t?’

‘No. Some consider it interference. Others are insulted by what they see as charity. As I said, your tenants don’t know me. Getting used to me – trusting me – will take time. Meanwhile, I don’t want to make your life more difficult than it is already.’

Daniel found her honesty touching. He said, ‘I think you’re worrying needlessly. So why don’t we just take it one day at a time and see how it goes?’

He stopped, as a tap at the door heralded the arrival of their dinner. Then, when the table was laden with various platters and covered dishes, he drew out a chair for her saying lightly, ‘Did you by any chance invite company and forget to mention it?’

She shook her head and then, struck by a sudden thought, ‘Do the people here at the inn know that we were married today?’

‘Well, I didn’t tell them but that doesn’t mean they don’t,’ replied Daniel, taking his own seat. ‘I’ll serve us both, shall I? Stop me if you see anything you don’t like … and meanwhile you can tell me what else you wanted to know about Reculver.’

‘Numbers,’ said Anna, watching him lay neat portions of trout and vegetables on her plate. ‘How many cottages and tenant families, for example.’

The hazel eyes flicked to her face, then back to his hands as he filled his own plate.

‘Fifteen families and nineteen cottages, four of which have been empty for over a year now. Those and eleven others are currently undergoing long overdue repairs – thanks to the scent bottles etcetera. So – ’

‘Could you please not go on referring to the – the etcetera part?’ Anna burst out. ‘It was badly done and – ’

‘On both our parts.’

‘If you say so – though I disagree. And everything is awkward enough already without that and without you thanking me at every turn.’

‘I wasn’t aware that I had been,’ he replied equably … and closed the subject by turning back to his dinner.

Feeling her colour rise, Anna followed his example and let the silence linger. Then, abandoning the trout, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I only meant that – ’

‘I know what you meant.’ Sighing, Daniel laid down his knife. ‘You would prefer that our relationship, such as it is, was not mostly based upon gratitude. I understand and respect that, but … we have to start with what we have. The vows we exchanged this morning brought me massive advantages. Unless I’m missing something, all you got was my name – which doesn’t seem a very fair exchange, does it?’ He waited and when she said nothing, ‘Quite. I’m grateful, Anna – as I should be. But I’ll express it less often if that is what you would prefer.’

‘It is, yes. Thank you.’

‘Then let’s consider the subject closed.’ Turning back to his plate, he ate a little more before pushing his plate aside, saying, ‘Returning to your questions about Reculver, we have a flock of sixty-something sheep and approximately a third of our acreage is under cultivation. Both of those need to increase substantially if I’m to begin dragging the estate some way back towards profitability, so they’ll be my priority for the foreseeable future.’ He investigated another of the covered dishes, ‘Chicken in some sort of sauce. Since, like me, you appear to be finished with the fish, may I help you to a little of this? And perhaps we could discuss what you’d like to do tomorrow.’

***

Later, lying sleepless in bed and forbidding her mind to stray to the man who was now her husband sleeping two rooms away, Anna reminded herself how important it was to be careful. She must never let him suspect for a single moment how she felt about him. He’d be horrified if he knew that, in the space of those two meetings since she’d left Reculver, what had begun as strong but manageable attraction had blossomed into a wild conflagration of something she’d never believed possible and was still afraid to name, even to herself.

Aware that even thinking about it was dangerous, she turned her mind to debating the point of spending a further day in Upton-on-Severn. Certainly, it had done little so far to ease the tension … and it was never going to while Daniel remained intent on keeping her on the other side of that invisible door.

We may as well bite the bullet and get on with settling into everyday life , she thought. At least that way we’d both have something to do instead of being trapped with each other and nothing to fill the time . If we went back, he could throw himself into his improvements and I’d be able to talk with his mother about what needs doing in the house – refurbishments and staffing, for example . She turned over and thumped the pillow for the fourth time. Being here isn’t achieving anything. Being at Reculver would. As for concealing the truth of our marriage from his family, Daniel is deluded if he thinks we can do that for more than day or two. And what does it matter? Under the circumstances, they’ll hardly be surprised, will they?

***

Daniel, meanwhile, was standing at his bedchamber window staring broodingly out into the dark. When he’d first thought of it, the idea of spending the first two nights after the wedding somewhere nobody knew them had seemed a good one. Now, with tomorrow yawning emptily ahead of them and nothing to fill it but more stilted attempts at conversation, he gloomily recognised that it might have been a mistake.

And it’s not the only one is it? he admitted wearily to himself. This morning, we made a lifetime commitment but we scarcely know each other. Yet while she’s groping for ways of mending that – of finding places where we can communicate – I’m throwing up barriers. That has to stop. I ought to be at least trying to meet her half-way. But for now, being here without other company or anything to occupy us isn’t working. I wonder what she’d say if I suggested we go home earlier than we planned?

***

The question of how to spend the day after the wedding was further complicated when the morning dawned on intermittent drizzle. Entering the parlour to find Anna gazing on the wet world outside, Daniel said, ‘I suspect this may have set in for the day.’

‘So do I.’

He waited for a moment and, when she merely continued staring through the window, said, ‘I haven’t rung for breakfast because I didn’t know what you would like. But it also occurred to me that you might prefer to take it in the coffee room rather than here.’

‘Yes.’ She turned to face him. ‘I would. Thank you.’

‘Good. So would I.’ Smiling and offering his arm, he said, ‘Let’s go.’

Downstairs, only two tables were occupied; a solitary gentleman at one of them and two middle-aged ladies at the other. All three nodded a polite greeting to which Anna and Daniel replied in kind before settling at a table by the window.

Having asked Anna’s preference and given their order to the serving maid, Daniel came directly to the point.

‘If the rain continues, we’ll be trapped inside the inn. So I wondered – though it isn’t ideal weather for travelling – whether we might consider cutting our stay here short and setting out for Reculver. What do you think?’

‘Even without the rain, I had been thinking exactly the same. Neither of us are accustomed to being idle, are we? And I’m sure that you have matters awaiting your attention.’

‘Always,’ he admitted wryly. ‘That’s what we’ll do, then. I’ll order the carriage as soon as we’ve eaten. And, with a bit of luck, we’ll out-distance the rain.’

~**~**~