This Way to Heaven by Barbara Cartland

kindly for the food. That’ll go down a treat. I’m just about to head for ’ome. My old dog will think I’m not comin’ back, so I’ll leave the pony ’ere. If I wear these snow shoes I found in the stables, I can cross the paddock and down through the woods. Snow’ll not lie so ’eavy under the trees.”
    â€œThe path to the village is clear, isn’t it?”
    â€œWell, it’s passable with care. But no one’s gettin’ out of the valley over the pass just yet and that’s a fact!”
    â€œThis heavy snow won’t have done your old out-buildings much good,” said Mary hesitantly, knowing how dilapidated George’s farm was.
    He worked every hour of the day to eke out a living from the poor land. There was never enough time to make improvements to the barns and sheds. And the farmhouse itself had a roof that leaked like an old bucket.
    George was now strapping on his homemade snow shoes, round circles woven with cane that made odd shapes in the snow, but they would prevent him from sinking into the drifts.
    He pulled his collar up round his ears that were already reddened by the cold.
    â€œAye, it’s just what I have said to you many a time before, Mary. The farm’s not in a fit state for a lass to live in. You’ll just have to bide here awhile until I can do some repairs. Maybe next year – ”
    Mary bit her lip.
    She knew only too well that there was no way the farm would be in any better state in a twelve-month.
    She was already twenty-five, a confirmed spinster in most people’s book.
    â€œDon’t you want us to marry, George?”
    The young farmer turned and frowned at Mary, his hazel eyes bright with emotion under the thick thatch of his red hair.
    â€œYou know I do! I love you, Mary. But I’m not a-sellin’ my land to that Earl and I ’ope he ’asn’t been puttin’ you up to talkin’ to me about it again. I’ve said my final word on it. That piece of land has been in my family for generations!”
    â€œBut it’s worthless – except to the Earl,” declared Mary. “Two scrubby little fields which are under water for three months each year plus half an acre of woodland and a run down house. The Earl will surely offer you a good sum, far more than all that is worth!”
    George sighed.
    He loved Mary dearly, but she did not understand. It was a matter of principle and the land belonged to him. Money was no use to him, he needed a home and a job.
    In addition he knew he was angered by the fact that a man only a year older than he had so much privilege and wealth.
    And why? Just because he had been born in the castle and not in a ramshackle farmhouse.
    George had listened to several disturbing lectures recently by people who wanted to lessen the power of the upper classes.
    He felt confused by all he had been told, but knew in his heart of hearts that a lot of the old ways were wrong and should be changed.
    Mary watched him set off across the smooth snow- covered field and her heart went with him.
    Then she sighed.
    Her problems would have to wait.
    She must return quickly to the castle and the young lady lying ill upstairs in the Peacock bedroom.
    As she entered the warm kitchen, she was amazed to find Mr. Pardew, dressed in his overcoat and bowler hat heading for the door with a big suitcase in his hand.
    â€œMr. Pardew? Where are you off to?”
    The butler glared at her.
    â€œI’ve just been a-given my marching orders, Miss Landrey. That’s what’s happened! After all the years of service I’ve given to this family. It’s a real disgrace, that’s what it is!”
    â€œYou mean you’ve been given notice? But why?” asked Mary, although she had a good idea of the answer to that question.
    Even now she could smell stale drink on the man’s breath.
    â€œNot in so many words. But I have been accused of drinking all the