'Mr Monserrat, I do not think you are listening to me.' She had stopped and turned towards him, grey eyes twinkling with amusement. 'I have addressed several remarks to you and had no reply.'
A stray curl had escaped from her bonnet and now fluttered across her cheek, the ends caressing her mouth, just as he wished to do. Without thinking he raised his finger to hook away the curl. She did not flinch, did not move at all even when his hand cupped her cheek. His body hardened. It was as much as he could do not to draw her towards him and all the while she kept looking at him. The twinkle died, replaced by a look of shy anticipation. And trust.
With an effort he quashed the desire, forced himself to remove his hand from her cheek and step back.
'I beg your pardon. I was not attending.'
'You were perhaps thinking of Morwood and all the work you have to do there?'
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 'I do not think I dare tell you what I was thinking of.'
The lashes fluttered down, screening her eyes, but there was no concealing the telltale blush on her cheek. Her next words surprised him.
'I thought you were going to kiss me.'
'That would hardly be the actions of a gentleman.'
'No.' The word ended in a sigh that he could almost interpret as regret.
'Miss Havenham-Annabelle. There is so much you do not know about me.'
'We are to be neighbours, sir. I am sure we shall learn all about you in due course.'
Her comfortable tone struck a blow at his conscience. Would she ever smile at him again once she knew the truth? Would she turn from him in disgust? He squared his shoulders. That was for the future.
'You will indeed.' He offered her his arm. 'The path is wider here. Shall we walk on?'
Annabelle rested her fingers on his sleeve. Strange that she should feel so at ease now with this man. Even the moment when he had touched her cheek, when she had thought he was going to kiss her, she had not been frightened. She was a little shocked to realise just how much she had wanted him to kiss her, to compare it with that first, bruising embrace that he had forced upon her.
A pleasurable thrill ran through her. This man was dangerous, she knew it in every fibre of her being, but she could not help being drawn to him. She enjoyed his company, the way he teased but never patronised her. They laughed at the same things. Even at dinner at the Rishworths, the first time she had seen him in company and had been very much on her guard, there had been moments when something had sparked her sense of the ridiculous and she had seen a corresponding gleam of amusement in his hard eyes. Despite their disastrous beginning, she thought-hoped-they could be friends.
The next few weeks passed quietly at Oakenroyd with no visit from their new neighbour.
'I confess I am a little surprised that Mr Monserrat has not called,' said Samuel in his mild way. 'We have not seen him since the day he escorted you back from Stanton.'
'I expect he is busy with the building work at Morwood.'
Annabelle replied lightly, but she too was disappointed. Perhaps he had thought her conduct unbecoming at their last meeting. After all, she had accused him of wanting to kiss her. She had not thought him offended, but her experience of gentlemen was limited, so she could not be sure.
She went about her business as usual, consulting the steward, looking after the house and her father, paying morning calls and receiving them in return, but through it all there was a sense of something missing, that life was, dare she say it, a little dull. It was not that she heard nothing about Mr Monserrat. It seemed everyone in Stanton was eager to follow his progress, and because so many of the menfolk were employed upon the rebuilding of Morwood there was no want of news.
The town was buzzing with information about the amount that was being spent on new tiles for the roof and glass for the windows. Annabelle tried to be happy about the changes. After all, the house and grounds were in dire need of restoration, but she had come to look upon Morwood as her own special place. It was difficult to think of someone else owning it, changing it.
Lady Rishworth called at Oakenroyd with Celia and told her that any number of carts and wagons were passing Rishworth Lodge every day, bound for the Manor.
'And the road between Morwood and the town is to be remade,' added Celia. 'That will make our lives so much more comfortable when we go out. We won't be forever bounced around in the carriage.' She blushed, 'Oh-that is, I mean-'
Annabelle smiled at her.
'Pray do not distress yourself, Celia. Do not think that because we are presently managing without our barouche you must guard your tongue. Heavens, what a sad time we should have of it if we had to consider every word we say!'
'A very sensible view, my dear,' approved Lady Rishworth. 'And your father's fortunes will come about again with a little good management, I am sure. But to return to the subject of the roads, I am sure the new surfacing will be beneficial to everyone. What with that and the new toll road at Dyke's Ridge, travel to and from Stanton will be easier than it has ever been and that can only be good news.'
Even when Annabelle went to collect her new gown for the forthcoming assembly, Mrs Ford told her that Mr Monserrat was making himself universally popular by paying at every store, rather than using credit, which was the way with most of the large houses in the area.
'Which reminds me, Miss Havenham.' Mrs Ford gave an apologetic smile. 'There is still the bill for your winter redingote to be settled.'
Annabelle blinked, but immediately begged pardon and promised to pay all outstanding bills by the end of the week.
'Oh, there is no hurry,' the dressmaker replied hastily. 'I know I can rely upon you, but in these difficult times it is perhaps best to be beforehand in the world.'
Annabelle left with her new gown, but also with a sense of unease. She had visited the dressmaker hundreds of times over the years and money had never been mentioned. Now it seemed she thought Miss Havenham of Oakenroyd might not be able to pay her way.
Annabelle was still frowning over the idea when she reached home and learned that Mr Telford was closeted with her father. She knocked on the study door and went in.
'I beg your pardon, Papa, may I speak with you both?'
'Of course. Come in, my dear, come in.'
'I wanted to talk to you about our … financial situation. I hope you do not mind, Papa? I was in Stanton today, with Mrs Ford, and something she said … '
'Ah.' Samuel shook his head and gave a long, despondent sigh. 'People are apprehensive that because we are retrenching we will not meet our obligations.'
'Is that all?' she said, relieved. 'Everyone is anxious, of course, but they have no cause to be. We shall continue with our present economies for as long as is necessary.' She saw a look pass between them and was immediately on her guard. 'What is it? Has something occurred?'
Her father appeared to shrink in his chair, looking very tired.
'Telford, perhaps you would explain?'
'Of course, sir.' The lawyer stood before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. 'Miss Havenham, I called today to inform your father that the mortgage on Oakenroyd has been sold to another party. At present that is all I know. There is no change to the terms, or the interest rates, but I thought it best to forewarn you. Very often, in cases such as this, the new lender will ask for more favourable terms.'
'But how can this be?' She looked up, a frown creasing her brow. 'We have a contract.'
'As with all such contracts, Miss Havenham, the lender has the right to give notice and increase the rate whenever he wishes.'
'And what of the borrower's rights?' she demanded.
'The borrower has the right to settle at any time.'
'Then I suppose we must be prepared to find another lender.'
'That is what I have been trying to do, Miss Havenham,' came the solemn reply. 'The problem is that the mortgage we secured upon Oakenroyd was a very generous one, more than the property is actually worth. I can find no one willing to match it without more security.'
'Which we cannot give.'
'Exactly, ma'am.'
'I had such hopes that the new toll road would be giving us a return by now,' murmured Samuel. 'But it is unlikely we shall see any profit on that for another year at least.'
'Could we sell our subscription?'
Mr Telford shook his head. 'Alas, I have made enquiries and there is no one willing to buy.'
'But we must not be too despondent,' said her father, trying to look cheerful. 'Telford here is a man of the law and trained to be pessimistic. We have been told only that the mortgage has changed hands. It may be that the new lender is content to leave things as they are.'
Mr Telford looked sceptical, but when he realised Annabelle was watching him his face became a polite mask. He smiled. 'It may well be, sir.'