invited us both to lunch. He wants to talk about future plans for the business.’
‘You mean he wants to talk to you.’
‘Well, yes, but that’s exactly what we need to be doing, discussing plans for the store.’
‘Then why do you need to drag me along?’
‘Because you’re my fiancé, and you’ll be able to offer your support.’
‘For what?’
She stifled a sigh. ‘For any ideas I might have. I don’t know, but you’ve been invited and it would be good to have you there.’
‘Sundays are one of the few days we have together.’
‘I know, love, but there’s precious little opportunity for long discussions when the store is open and we’re both busy working.’
‘So I’m supposed to hang around, am I, while you two talk business?’
She kissed him, her eyes pleading. ‘I’d be much more comfortable if you were. I need you, Jack love, and it’s important we present a united front. Grayson lives in Windermere, so I thoughtwe could take the omnibus. Best bib and tucker, but it should be interesting, don’t you think?’
‘I can’t wait,’ he drawled, and there was something in his expression that gave Livia cause for concern. Maybe this lunch wasn’t such a good idea, after all.
Chapter Eight
Ella reached the river that chuckled noisily down through the dale, crossing it on the well-worn slate slabs and taking care not to slip and get her feet wet. The view of the mountains all around, with their rocky outcrops and straggly pine trees leaning into the wind, was spectacular. Today, as always, she stopped to rest against a boulder, taking a moment to appreciate their beauty. There was the darkly brooding Rainsborrow Crag, and beyond it Yoke, Ill Bell and Froswick looming out of the mist. Close by was a stand of Scots Pine, and a pile of slate waste left over from the days of quarrying in which a family of vole had now made a home.
There had been a time when Ella had hated Kentmere, when the profound silence of thisenclosed dale had unnerved her. She had hated the farm, her life and her husband with equal measure. She’d thought him a dry-as-dust country bumpkin, clumsy and stupid, with only his Bible for company. And at first perhaps he was exactly that, still striving to please a Puritan wife long dead.
Visitors to the farm were rare, and neighbours few and far between in this remote region. Should anyone, a walker or a carter go by, she’d rush out to speak to them simply for the joy of their company. Ella would gaze out of her kitchen window following with her mind’s eye the winding road that ran through the valley towards the nearby village of Staveley and on to Kendal. She’d longed to go home, to see her sisters and old friends and be part of the hustle and bustle of town life again.
But things were very different now. Little by little Ella had discovered her husband’s hidden strengths. She’d come across him once bathing in this very river, seeing him for the first time in all his manly glory. In his turn Amos had learnt to trust his new wife and not try to control her every move. Now she’d come full circle and loved them all – the farm, the land, and her man – with a passion.
Nothing and no one could ever change that, certainly not a foolish resentful girl with a chip on her shoulder.
This morning, Ella had driven herself to the village in the trap to see the doctor. But she’d needed to stop and catch her breath, to sit alone by the river to savour the news he’d given her, to walk a little, gaze at the mountains and think. She would have liked to discuss her problems with dearest Livia, as always, and made a mental note to drive into Kendal and speak to her as soon as possible. For now, she climbed back into the trap, picked up the reins, and with a smile curling her pretty mouth, set off to call upon her dearest friend.
Ella had first met Wilma Jepson on a visit to the little church at the entrance to the dale, when she’d introduced herself as the
‘You mean he wants to talk to you.’
‘Well, yes, but that’s exactly what we need to be doing, discussing plans for the store.’
‘Then why do you need to drag me along?’
‘Because you’re my fiancé, and you’ll be able to offer your support.’
‘For what?’
She stifled a sigh. ‘For any ideas I might have. I don’t know, but you’ve been invited and it would be good to have you there.’
‘Sundays are one of the few days we have together.’
‘I know, love, but there’s precious little opportunity for long discussions when the store is open and we’re both busy working.’
‘So I’m supposed to hang around, am I, while you two talk business?’
She kissed him, her eyes pleading. ‘I’d be much more comfortable if you were. I need you, Jack love, and it’s important we present a united front. Grayson lives in Windermere, so I thoughtwe could take the omnibus. Best bib and tucker, but it should be interesting, don’t you think?’
‘I can’t wait,’ he drawled, and there was something in his expression that gave Livia cause for concern. Maybe this lunch wasn’t such a good idea, after all.
Chapter Eight
Ella reached the river that chuckled noisily down through the dale, crossing it on the well-worn slate slabs and taking care not to slip and get her feet wet. The view of the mountains all around, with their rocky outcrops and straggly pine trees leaning into the wind, was spectacular. Today, as always, she stopped to rest against a boulder, taking a moment to appreciate their beauty. There was the darkly brooding Rainsborrow Crag, and beyond it Yoke, Ill Bell and Froswick looming out of the mist. Close by was a stand of Scots Pine, and a pile of slate waste left over from the days of quarrying in which a family of vole had now made a home.
There had been a time when Ella had hated Kentmere, when the profound silence of thisenclosed dale had unnerved her. She had hated the farm, her life and her husband with equal measure. She’d thought him a dry-as-dust country bumpkin, clumsy and stupid, with only his Bible for company. And at first perhaps he was exactly that, still striving to please a Puritan wife long dead.
Visitors to the farm were rare, and neighbours few and far between in this remote region. Should anyone, a walker or a carter go by, she’d rush out to speak to them simply for the joy of their company. Ella would gaze out of her kitchen window following with her mind’s eye the winding road that ran through the valley towards the nearby village of Staveley and on to Kendal. She’d longed to go home, to see her sisters and old friends and be part of the hustle and bustle of town life again.
But things were very different now. Little by little Ella had discovered her husband’s hidden strengths. She’d come across him once bathing in this very river, seeing him for the first time in all his manly glory. In his turn Amos had learnt to trust his new wife and not try to control her every move. Now she’d come full circle and loved them all – the farm, the land, and her man – with a passion.
Nothing and no one could ever change that, certainly not a foolish resentful girl with a chip on her shoulder.
This morning, Ella had driven herself to the village in the trap to see the doctor. But she’d needed to stop and catch her breath, to sit alone by the river to savour the news he’d given her, to walk a little, gaze at the mountains and think. She would have liked to discuss her problems with dearest Livia, as always, and made a mental note to drive into Kendal and speak to her as soon as possible. For now, she climbed back into the trap, picked up the reins, and with a smile curling her pretty mouth, set off to call upon her dearest friend.
Ella had first met Wilma Jepson on a visit to the little church at the entrance to the dale, when she’d introduced herself as the
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