The Mistress of His Manor by Catherine George

her hot gardener, but no chance of that with the high and mighty Lord Arnborough. She managed to thank the steward, then hurried downstairs and out through the vestibule, thankful that the friendly woman at the door to the Great Hall was too busy to notice as she escaped. Jo stormed along the paths between the lawns, and once through the gatehouse took to her heels. She sprinted down the winding road and on past the Arnborough Arms as though the devil were after her. But her long, headlong flight failed to shake off the resentment and embarrassment boiling away inside her. To think that March had actually had the gall to be annoyed because she’d kept her real name from him. What a laugh! Lord Arnborough, it appeared, had fancied a spot of incognito dalliance with one of the lower classes.
    Jo forced herself to wait long enough to calm down beforebeginning the drive home. No point in following Charlie Peel’s example. But unlike him she was cold sober. Well, not cold, more like red hot. But sober. After an interval of deep breathing exercises she was about to get in the car when her phone rang. And she did go cold when she saw the caller.
    ‘Grandpa?’
    ‘Jack’s taken Kate to the hospital, darling. I’m taking care of Kitty. Are you at home?’
    ‘No. I’m at Arnborough Hall, but I’m starting back right now. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
    ‘Good, but don’t rush. Drive carefully. Kitty’s fine.’
    ‘I’m on my way.’
    It was a nightmare drive. Heavy rain added to Jo’s stress factor after a mile or two, forcing her to drive carefully instead of rushing back to Mill House at top speed. The baby was three weeks early. Oh, God, she prayed, please take care of Kate. And the baby.
    The rain had stopped by the time she turned down the long drive to Mill House. Kitty shot out to meet her, with Grandpa in pursuit.
    ‘Jo—Jo,’ cried the child as Jo leapt from the car. ‘Mummy’s gone to buy the baby.’
    Jo’s angst towards March was suddenly irrelevant. ‘How very exciting,’ she said, and picked the little girl up to hug her. ‘And how are you, Grandpa?’
    Tom smiled manfully. ‘Fine, but since Jack went in the ambulance with Kate—’
    ‘Ambulance?’ Jo followed him into the hall and set Kitty down.
    ‘Jack rang for one, afraid Kate might need attention on the journey. But now you’re here can you cope if I go to the hospital and give Jack a lift home?’ he asked anxiously.
    ‘Yes, of course.’ Jo’s empty stomach tightened. ‘What shall we do, Kitty-cat?’
    ‘Draw pictures.’
    ‘Right. Off you go then, Grandpa.’ Jo smiled at him lovingly. ‘Keep me posted.’
    ‘I’ll report as soon as I get there,’ he promised.
    The afternoon was the longest of Jo’s life. Her grandfather rang as promised, to say that things were proceeding normally and he was staying on at the hospital as moral support for Jack.
    ‘How is he?’
    ‘In a bit of a state! By the way, Kate asked me to ring Anna. Can you do that?’
    ‘Yes, of course. But ring me again soon.’
    Kitty eventually got bored with drawing, and asked to see one of her cartoon films. Anything but Bambi, thought Jo with a shudder. Once the child was settled, she went to Jack’s study to ring Kate’s closest friend, Anna Maitland. She promised to ring again the moment there was any news, then went back to the kitchen and took Kitty on her lap to snuggle down together in the big armchair kept there for the purpose. When the film ended Kitty’s lip trembled as she turned tearful eyes on her sister.
    ‘I wish Mummy was here.’
    So did Jo. ‘I know, pet. But you’ll have to make do with me instead tonight.’
    Tom rang soon afterwards, to say things were proceeding as before, and that Jack had left the labour ward long enough to swallow some coffee before rushing back to Kate. ‘I’ll ring you again soon,’ Tom promised.
    Jo enlisted Kitty’s help to make supper, then sat with the child as she ate, trying to console