the first time, he thought ruefully. What an absurd situation to be in at his age, ready to moon over a girl fourteen years younger than he was, but did it matter?
After lunch he had Max saddled up and calling to Dottie and Floss and Ginger he galloped across his land, skirting fields rippling with growing corn, hay, wheat, waving to men working in the warm sunshine, parting small herds of grazing cattle, cows that rocked away in alarm at his approach, entering Seven Cows Wood where he had first met her. Flinging himself off Max’s back he threw himself down in the shade of a massive oak tree, leaving Max untethered. The dogs flopped down beside him, their tongues hanging out, breathing hard.
Should he have a dinner party to which he would invite her, with her father and his fiancée, naturally, and one or two couples who he knew would be kind with her? Without mentioning marriage he would let her see how he lived. He lay back drowsily looking up into the foliage of the tree, watching a caterpillar hatched from the eggs of the mottled umber moth as it devoured a leaf. His mind was at peace and his heart was full and he sighed with great contentment. He had started his courtship of Charlotte Drummond!
She was brought down to his study later in the afternoon and he was startled at the state of her face. His temper had got the better of him but he had not realised he had hit her so hard. She had best be kept to her room for a while until she was fit to be seen. She had the beginnings of a black eye and her cheek was red and swollen but she stood proudly before him, meeting his eyes with her own which revealed her defiance. He had discussed it with Elizabeth and she had been adamant that the girl must be made to see how advantageous this marriage would be and that if she proved difficult there must be some pressure that could be brought to bear to persuade her. It was not that Elizabeth Parker wished Charlotte to marry Brooke Drummond for any particular reason. She had wanted him for herself. Arthur was second best but she did want the girl out of the house. The house that would be hers. Charlotte was far too pretty to have at Elizabeth’s dinner table, and far too young, which might not show Elizabeth up in a good light. Elizabeth did not like competition. She was twenty-five and at the height of her beauty but that would not last for ever, and as for those great boys, the sooner they were sent away to school the better. She might – she hoped not – but she might have a child herself and she wanted no rivalry between her child and these others. She did not say this to Arthur, of course, but she congratulated herself that she had persuaded him to see matters in the way she wanted him to see them. She was handed into her carriage for her return journey to her home, smiling with satisfaction, not knowing that she had had not the slightest influence on her future husband, for he knew exactly how to handle his children and needed no advice from her, though at the moment it pleased him to let her think that she had some hand in the running of her future home.
‘So, Charlotte, now that you have had time to think about it may I assume that you are willing to consider Brooke Armstrong’s proposal of marriage? I would like to think you will make no objections for, believe me, whatever they may be I shall overcome them. You should know that. He is a very suitable match and—’
‘No, Father, I do not wish to marry Mr Armstrong. He is an old man and I do not love him.’
‘It seems he loves you,’ her father sneered.
‘I’m sorry for that but there is absolutely no chance—’
‘Really!’ Her father, who had been lounging in the chair behind his desk, stood up and walked to the window, noting with some satisfaction that she flinched as he moved past her. He looked out into the garden, studying with complacency his lawns, his flowerbeds, the placid smoothness of his lake on which ducks glided, finding them all in
After lunch he had Max saddled up and calling to Dottie and Floss and Ginger he galloped across his land, skirting fields rippling with growing corn, hay, wheat, waving to men working in the warm sunshine, parting small herds of grazing cattle, cows that rocked away in alarm at his approach, entering Seven Cows Wood where he had first met her. Flinging himself off Max’s back he threw himself down in the shade of a massive oak tree, leaving Max untethered. The dogs flopped down beside him, their tongues hanging out, breathing hard.
Should he have a dinner party to which he would invite her, with her father and his fiancée, naturally, and one or two couples who he knew would be kind with her? Without mentioning marriage he would let her see how he lived. He lay back drowsily looking up into the foliage of the tree, watching a caterpillar hatched from the eggs of the mottled umber moth as it devoured a leaf. His mind was at peace and his heart was full and he sighed with great contentment. He had started his courtship of Charlotte Drummond!
She was brought down to his study later in the afternoon and he was startled at the state of her face. His temper had got the better of him but he had not realised he had hit her so hard. She had best be kept to her room for a while until she was fit to be seen. She had the beginnings of a black eye and her cheek was red and swollen but she stood proudly before him, meeting his eyes with her own which revealed her defiance. He had discussed it with Elizabeth and she had been adamant that the girl must be made to see how advantageous this marriage would be and that if she proved difficult there must be some pressure that could be brought to bear to persuade her. It was not that Elizabeth Parker wished Charlotte to marry Brooke Drummond for any particular reason. She had wanted him for herself. Arthur was second best but she did want the girl out of the house. The house that would be hers. Charlotte was far too pretty to have at Elizabeth’s dinner table, and far too young, which might not show Elizabeth up in a good light. Elizabeth did not like competition. She was twenty-five and at the height of her beauty but that would not last for ever, and as for those great boys, the sooner they were sent away to school the better. She might – she hoped not – but she might have a child herself and she wanted no rivalry between her child and these others. She did not say this to Arthur, of course, but she congratulated herself that she had persuaded him to see matters in the way she wanted him to see them. She was handed into her carriage for her return journey to her home, smiling with satisfaction, not knowing that she had had not the slightest influence on her future husband, for he knew exactly how to handle his children and needed no advice from her, though at the moment it pleased him to let her think that she had some hand in the running of her future home.
‘So, Charlotte, now that you have had time to think about it may I assume that you are willing to consider Brooke Armstrong’s proposal of marriage? I would like to think you will make no objections for, believe me, whatever they may be I shall overcome them. You should know that. He is a very suitable match and—’
‘No, Father, I do not wish to marry Mr Armstrong. He is an old man and I do not love him.’
‘It seems he loves you,’ her father sneered.
‘I’m sorry for that but there is absolutely no chance—’
‘Really!’ Her father, who had been lounging in the chair behind his desk, stood up and walked to the window, noting with some satisfaction that she flinched as he moved past her. He looked out into the garden, studying with complacency his lawns, his flowerbeds, the placid smoothness of his lake on which ducks glided, finding them all in
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