The Daughter of the Manor. Betty NeelsЧитать онлайн книгу.
doctor didn’t hurry but tapped Sir William’s chest, listened to his heart, asked a number of leisurely questions and finally pronounced himself satisfied. ‘Stay indoors for another day or so,’ he advised, ‘and when you do go out wrap up warm.’
Tony came out of the drawing room as they reached the hall.
‘Well, what’s the verdict? I’m not surprised that Sir William has been ill—this house may look a thing of beauty but it’s riddled with damp. Needs money spent on it. More sense if he found something smaller and modern.’
Leonora gave him a surprised look. ‘Tony, you know as well as I do that Father and Mother will never move. Why should we? We’re happy here—it’s our home.’
He took her arm. ‘Darling, of course it is. Come and have some coffee.’ He nodded at Dr Galbraith. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he observed.
Leonora frowned. Tony was being rude. ‘Thank you for coming, Doctor. I’ll keep an eye on Father. You won’t need to come again?’
‘I think not, but do give me a ring if that cough doesn’t clear up within the next week or ten days.’ He shook hands, ignored Tony and went out to his car, got in and drove away.
‘You were rude,’ said Leonora, leading the way to the drawing room.
‘Sorry, darling. I can’t stand the fellow, looking down that long nose of his. Thinks he knows everything—I’ve met his sort before.’
‘He’s a good doctor,’ said Leonora, ‘and everyone likes him—except you.’
‘Let’s not argue about him. I’ve come to spend the weekend with you, so let’s enjoy ourselves. Heaven knows, it’s hard enough to get away.’
Tony had sat down again. ‘How about getting into something pretty and we’ll go out to lunch?’
‘Tony, I’d love to, but I can’t. When you got here I was making beds—and when I’ve done that I must get lunch and see about making a cake and getting something made for this evening. Father has to have his coffee and his lunch, and Mother will be back presently. They like their tea at half past four and dinner has to be cooked…’
‘For heaven’s sake, Leonora…can’t Nanny deal with all that?’
‘No, she can’t. The kitchen has to be cleaned, food has to be prepared, she has to answer the door and Father’s bell if I’m busy and one of us will have to go to the village and do some extra shopping.’
‘Well, I thought I would be welcome,’ said Tony sulkily, ‘but it seems I’d better leave as quickly as possible!’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Leonora briskly. ‘You know how glad I am to see you, but what’s the use of pretending that I can sit here, nicely dressed and made up, when it’s simply not possible? We could go for a walk in the afternoon.’
She saw his irritable frown. ‘I’m sorry, Tony…’
‘Let’s hope that next time I manage to get here you’ll be looking more like my fiancée and not the home help.’ He laughed as he spoke and she laughed with him, hiding her hurt. He was delightful and charming, she told herself, and she loved him, and she reminded herself that he worked very hard and had little time to enjoy his leisure.
All the same the beds had still to be made. It was fortunate that her mother returned, delighted at the sight of Tony, grumbling prettily at the awful coffee she had had to drink at Colonel Howes’. ‘Darling,’ she begged Leonora, ‘do make me a cup—you make such good coffee.’
She settled down in her chair and turned to Tony. ‘Now, tell me all the latest gossip…’
Her father wasn’t best pleased to learn that Tony had come for the weekend. He loved his daughter dearly, was aware that she was missing the kind of life a girl of her age should be enjoying but was not sure what to do about it. When Tony had swept her off her feet and he had seen the happiness in her face, he had been glad for her sake, although he had had to bury the vague dislike he had for him. If Leonora loved him and he would make her happy, then that was more important than his own feelings. Tony, after all, was a successful young man, able to give Leonora the comforts and small luxuries which he, her father, had been unable to afford.
He expressed a pleasure he didn’t feel and told her he would be down to lunch and she whisked herself away to finish the beds and tidy first the rooms and then herself. There wasn’t time to change into something more eye-catching than the sweater and skirt but at least she could do something to her face and hair.
Going downstairs a little later, she could hear her mother and Tony laughing and talking in the drawing room, which gave her the chance to go to the kitchen and see what Nanny had found for lunch.
Cheese omelettes, they decided, and there was a tin of mushroom and garlic soup which they could eke out with some chicken stock. Melba toast and a salad.
‘We’ll worry about dinner presently,’ promised Leonora. ‘I’ll do the table in a minute and after lunch I’ll go down to the village. It had better be a joint, I suppose—five of us—roast this evening, cold tomorrow.’
That would make a hole in the housekeeping, she reflected, going to sit in the drawing room and listen to Tony being amusing about his life in London.
A good-looking man, she reflected lovingly, and such fun to be with. She hoped that once they were married she would make him happy—live his kind of life, like his friends, enjoy the dinner parties and theatres and social occasions which he had assured her were so very important to his work.
Presently she slipped away to see to lunch and give Nanny a hand, half hoping that he would go with her. But he merely smiled and waved a hand.
‘Don’t be too long, darling; I miss you.’
Perhaps it was as well that he had stayed talking to her mother and father, she decided, beating eggs, making a salad, laying the table…
After lunch she told him that she was going to the village. He frowned for a moment then smiled. ‘A chance for us to talk,’ he told her. ‘Not paying visits, I hope.’
‘No, no, just some shopping. It’ll give you an appetite for tea.’
They met the vicar in the village street and she left them talking while she bought the meat. They were still talking when she joined them again.
Tony put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Do we know when we want to get married, darling?’ he asked. ‘It all depends, actually, but it won’t be long now. A June wedding, perhaps. That is, if the bride agrees to that.’
The vicar looked pleased. ‘We haven’t had a wedding for some time,’ he observed, ‘and June is a delightful month in which to be married.’
‘A nice old man,’ said Tony as they started back home. ‘Very keen to see us married, isn’t he?’
‘Did you mean that—June—you said…?’
He took her free hand in his. ‘Why not, darling? It will be a bit of a rush—but I suppose we could get the place tidied up by then.’
‘What place?’
He stopped and turned to look at her. ‘Leonora, surely you can see for yourself that that great house is too much for your father and mother? Suppose we move them out to something smaller? There’s a nice little property a couple of miles away on the road to Bath. I’ll have the house completely refurbished and it’ll be a marvellous headquarters for me—us. Weekends for clients and friends. We’ll have a flat in town, of course, but it’s an easy run. I might even give you a car of your own so that you can go to and fro whenever you want.’
Leonora stared at him. ‘You don’t mean any of that, do you? I mean, turning Mother and Father out of their home? It’s been in the family for almost two hundred years; Father would die; it’s—it’s his blood. Mother has all her