Authors: Lilac Lacey
‘He is a gentleman!’ Tara exclaimed. ‘He has done so much to help me and he couldn’t be kinder.’
Her mother looked at her wearily. ‘He is not a gentleman by birth,’ she said.
Tara dropped her eyes. Leo was more of a gentleman than anyone else she knew, but her mother was looking alarmingly pale and the last thing she wanted to do was bring about a relapse by quarrelling with her. She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘No, not by birth,’ she agreed. ‘Would you like to rest now? Shall I remove your tray?’
‘Edgar was right about the walls in the top paddocks,’ Leo said as he and Tara sat down to dinner that night. ‘The paddocks can still be used, but the walls should be seen to soon, while the damage is simple to repair.’
Tara took a sip of her soup and then laid down her spoon. ‘We can afford to get them mended,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know where to find a good dry stone waller.’
Leo was suffering no loss of appetite, she noticed, his soup was nearly gone, it must be spending all day in the saddle, getting fresh air and exercise. She herself had been walking out each afternoon to talk to tenants and to deliver the back pay to the employees who were short, but then she returned to the study where she tried to draw up a plan that would at least take Penge to the end of the summer. Apart from her brief excursions she had been cooped up for days and she wished she could ride out with Leo, but there was still too much to do.
‘Jennings will know of a mason, I’m sure of it,’ Leo said. ‘Leave it to me, I’ll ask him in the morning.’ Most of the rest of the things he had to tell her were positive, the cow had been seen by the vet and she didn’t have anything contagious, the roots on the giant apple tree in the orchard were still firm, and Jennings had lined up a group of lads from the village to help with hay-making the day after tomorrow. ‘What you really need, of course,’ he added, ‘is a good estate manager, Penge is too much for one person.’
Tara felt herself relax in his easy company. She told him a little about her day, about how her mother was on the mend and about her visit to the dairyman’s cottage where his wife was nursing her fifth baby, a son at last, after four daughters.
‘Jennings must be pleased,’ Leo observed. ‘He’ll do well with a son, he’ll teach him everything he knows and the boy will be able to make a living anywhere he goes.’ He sounded particularly pleased himself, Tara thought. He seemed to thoroughly approve of farming as a way of life. It was not the life she had hoped to have for herself, but until Richard was old enough to take over the running of the place she was stuck here. She shivered as she thought of returning to London after four or five years’ absence. Would any of her friends remember her? Would they even be there, or would they be ensconced in their country homes, married, with all their time taken up with their young families. The thought of doing a season in London as a single lady a decade after her come out was not an appealing one. Perhaps she should have got engaged this year. But it was too late now, here, in the middle of Wiltshire she couldn’t be further away from the marriage market.
She wondered how long Leo would stay for. Knowing she had his company to look forward to in the evening, even if all they did was talk about Penge, made the day bearable, but she did not know how she would survive when he was gone. Then the beginnings of an idea began to form in her mind, and she looked at him, with a sudden, appealing thought, wondering.
Chapter Ten
Tara woke up the next day in a good mood. It took her a moment to remember why, and then it came to her. The accounts were nearly back under control, all the wages owed to the farmhands had been paid but most importantly it had occurred to her last night to wonder if Leo would consider a change of profession and take on the job of estate manager for Penge. He seemed to set a large store by earning what he called an honest living, and what could be more honest than farming? She knew he wanted to paint, but he wanted to paint landscapes and what better place to do that than the countryside?
As Betty came in and drew aside the thick white curtains at the window, sunshine spilled into the room and Tara woke up properly. Although she had been exhausted last night, being alone with Leo, going over the business of Penge, had been so comfortable. It had been as if they were husband and wife, running the estate together. The thought brought her up short. The very intimacy of the evening was exactly why she couldn’t possibly ask him to become the estate manager. She had been too tired and worried about her mother to flirt with Leo these past few days, but she did not fool herself, as soon as things were back in hand she would be drawn irresistibly towards him, and he to her, she was sure of it.
‘Will you be taking tea in bed, my lady?’ Betty asked. ‘Or will you be getting up for breakfast?’
Tara sat up and flung back the covers, ‘I’ll have breakfast downstairs,’ she said. If Leo were her estate manager he would be part of her life and she would see him every day, but he would be her employee and she couldn’t possibly marry him. He would be even more ineligible than he was now. Furthermore, living in the same house, it would be so easy to become Leo’s mistress. The thought simultaneously thrilled and horrified her. She took her day dress out of Betty’s hands and hauled it on to hide her confusion.
She had risen later than the day before and she half expected Leo to have finished his breakfast and left by the time she got downstairs, but he was in the morning room, taking a last cup of tea when Tara arrived.
‘I’m going to check over the scythes today, ready for the mow tomorrow,’ he said as Tara sat down. ‘A sharp scythe is worth its weight in gold compared with a blunt one.’ It was so easy to picture him in the role of running Penge, he spoke as if he had been born to it, Tara thought as she abstractedly spooned honey onto her porridge.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I have nearly finished untangling my mother’s ledger, I think the end is in sight.’ As she spoke she felt as if a great stone had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. With the accounts no longer taking up all her time she would be free to take back the management of Penge and she could not expect Leo to stay here much longer, he had a life of his own to attend to and an income to earn.
The morning dragged, but conversely the last pieces of the accounts seemed to fall unwelcomely into place and almost to finish sorting out themselves. At noon, as she usually did, Tara took lunch with her mother, whose health seemed to have reached a stalemate. She was no longer in danger, but was far from regaining her usual stamina.
‘How are things going?’ Lady Penge demanded as soon as she entered the room.
‘Very well,’ Tara was able to say honestly. ‘I have finished updating the ledger and everything is in order.’ She had decided from the first that it would be more tactful not to let her mother know what a muddled state her accounts been in, suspecting that Lady Penge had not been aware of how far the organisation of Penge had slipped through her fingers, but she should have known her mother was too astute to fool that way.
‘It’s taken you the best part of five days solid work to be able to say that,’ Lady Penge observed. ‘I should have sent for you sooner, but you were in the middle of your fifth season, I didn’t want to scupper your chances of making a match this year.’
For the first time it occurred to Tara that if she did not marry she would be a burden on her brother’s inheritance and while she did not think he would begrudge supporting her, it was not a position she relished. ‘I…er… I didn’t find anyone that suited,’ she mumbled by way of apology.
‘They’ll say you’re on the shelf next year,’ Lady Penge said, and took an unenthusiastic sip of her soup.
Tara looked at her, startled. ‘I won’t be going to London next year,’ she said sharply. ‘I will be here, at Penge.’
Her mother reached out and took her hand, and Tara was glad to find that if her mother’s grip was not as strong as it once was, it was at least stronger than when she had returned home. ‘My dear girl, you’ll never catch a husband buried in the country. Of course you must go back.’ Her mother’s grip was stronger but it wasn’t that strong. Tara gave her a long look and her mother dropped her eyes first.
‘I’ll be here,’ Tara repeated firmly, ‘running Penge with you.’ Her mother’s mouth set in a reluctant line, but she did not try to argue and Tara felt her heart sink. She knew her duty but she took no pleasure in it.
She had just returned to her mother’s study, which she was beginning to think of as her own, when she was interrupted by a brisk tread and the door swung open to admit Leo. In his dusty boots and breeches, with his light summer jacket undone and his shirt open at the throat he looked the epitome of outdoor living and Tara had a sudden impulse to fling herself into his arms and breathe in his summery scent. But what had seemed possible in the heady atmosphere of Rodney’s house party seemed utterly scandalous in the privacy of her own home and she forced herself to be contended with a smile.
Did Leo know what she was thinking? He might do, she thought, looking at the smile which played around his lips and the corners of his eyes. She wanted to step forward and kiss that smile, but she dared not. ‘I heard a rumour that you were finished with book keeping for the day,’ Leo said.
Tara threw a rueful glance at the ledger, which she had just opened. ‘I have balanced the accounts, settled outstanding payments, and sent out invoices to everyone who owes us money, but all that merely brings me up to date. Now I have to look forward. I was just about to start deciding what to send to market next week.
Leo took a step closer to her - although the study was so tiny he could have reached her from where he stood - and took her elbow lightly with his fingertips. Tara felt as captured as if he had slid his arm around her waist and she was suddenly overwhelmingly aware of his masculinity. ‘You won’t be able to decide about that in here,’ he said, his voice sounding low and musical in her ears. ‘Come with me, we’ll ride out and you can survey your estate. That is the way to decide what to send to market.’
He was right, Tara thought, his nearness in the little room making her almost giddy, but she was very aware that his suggestion sound so attractive after her dull days of bookkeeping that she would have agreed to it even if it had not made sense. ‘I think that is an excellent idea,’ she said and then found herself completely distracted by the natural shift of his fingers on the delicate skin of her arm as he escorted her from the room.
Leo had been confident of her agreement, Tara saw when they reached the stables. Her mother’s mare Primrose was already saddled and waiting for her. She allowed Leo to help her mount and then they set off at a gentle walk around the estate. ‘I want you to take a look at the calves,’ Leo said, sounding for all the world as if he were born to farming. They rode to a paddock on the south side of the estate where a herd of weaned calves jostled each other just for the fun of it and chewed the cud in the sun. In the distance Tara could hear the distinctive clink of stone on stone. The dry stone waller was at work.
‘They look very content,’ Tara said doubtfully, making Leo laugh.
‘You need to see them as stock, as a saleable commodity, not as pets,’ he said dryly. Tara glared at him and tried to view the calves as something to take to market now and sell as veal or to keep until next year for beef. She found it difficult though, to see past the frolicking animals enjoying the summer sunshine. ‘You need to think like a farmer,’ Leo urged. ‘I could tell you what I’d do, but that wouldn’t help you with making such decisions in the future.’
At the thought of him leaving, Tara felt her heart contract. Penge without Leo would be the emptiest place in the world. She stared at him for a long moment, fixing the image of him waiting easily astride his horse, the sunlight making him screw up his eyes so it was as if he were looking at her with a particular intensity, wanting to keep this picture of him forever. But Leo, it seemed, thought she had her mind fixed firmly on cattle. ‘Perhaps considering your current cash situation would help,’ he said.
With difficulty Tara wrenched her mind back to the accounts. ‘We owe nothing, but we are waiting for a number of payments. It would be helpful to have some cash to pay next week’s wages.’
‘There’s your answer then,’ Leo said.
Tara stared at the calves and did a rough calculation in her head. ‘I think I shall sell a quarter of the stock as veal and keep the rest,’ she said.
Leo nodded. ‘You may find it useful to know that Jennings said much the same thing.’
‘You consulted him?’ Tara asked in surprise.
‘Yes, he knows the estate and he knows the local market. His information has been very valuable. What would you like to look at now?’ Leo took her in a circuit around the farm, drawing her attention to its assets and questioning her on her plans. He never told her what to do, but asked her questions which helped her to think objectively about the estate and make her own decisions. But she had the feeling that if she had had any unrealistic ideas he would not have let her suffer the consequences, but would have offered his own advice for the good of Penge. She was impressed with his knowledge of farming and asking him to stay on as estate manager looked like a more and more obvious next step despite her better judgement.
The sun was sinking towards the horizon by the time they had finished the rounds. They were at the furthest point of the estate from the house, on the top of a low hill, next to a copse of birch trees, maturing and waiting to be felled in a few years time. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ Leo said, the reddening sun casting a warm glow on his face as he looked westwards. Tara wondered if he were thinking of painting a Wiltshire sunset. ‘What is it like in winter?’ Tara felt her heart quicken at his interest.
‘Snowy,’ she said, ‘but the wind is rarely bitter, we are too sheltered.’
‘I should like to see it,’ Leo said. ‘The black woodland, the white hills rolling down to your house and the little cottages nestled beyond would make a superb painting.’ Tara felt as if her heart was in her mouth. Leo knew the job and loved Wiltshire, he would make her a perfect estate manager. Hastily she quashed her other concerns and wondered if she should offer him the position now. At that moment her mare put her head down and began cropping the grass. ‘We should get the horses home and fed,’ Leo observed. ‘I wouldn’t let your mare do that for too long or she’ll be the very devil to move.’ He began to walk his horse back down the track. The moment had passed, Tara hauled on the reins and brought Primrose under control, then she urged her forward and they took the hungry horses home at a trot.