'And he is spending a fortune on rebuilding it,' added Sir John. 'The family sold the place to pay off the creditors, and from what I remember there was not that much left for the boy's inheritance.'
'I wouldn't want to live at Morwood,' said Celia, shuddering. 'They say it is haunted.'
Annabelle felt obliged to respond to this. 'Nonsense,' she said. 'The ruins are-were-a sad place, to be sure, but I have never seen any sign of a ghost. I hope Mr Mon-I mean Mr Blackstone will make a very comfortable home there.'
'And there is another good thing to come out of this,' chuckled her father, squeezing her arm. 'This revelation is just what is needed to take everyone's attention away from our attempts to economise!'
The assembly gave Annabelle a great deal to think about when she retired to her bed that night, but although she frowned a little over the disclosure of Lucas's real identity her thoughts kept returning to the moment he had taken her in his arms and kissed her. In the whole course of her life no other man had ever done more than press a chaste salute upon her fingers, yet Lucas had kissed her at their very first meeting, and now he had done so again. Just thinking about it set her body on fire and brought on that strange ache deep inside. Her head was full of him. Even during the short journey home, when she had been talking with the Rishworths, her mind had been reliving their meetings, remembering the shock of his touch, the warmth in his eyes. She feared she was besotted.
She had never known a man like him-his manners could be abrupt, but when he exerted himself he was a charming companion. He had left the assembly without taking his leave of her, but he still had her gloves. He had not actually said he would call upon her in the morning, but as she settled down to sleep Annabelle found herself hoping very much that he would do so.
Lucas was the first thought in her head when Annabelle awoke the following morning to bright sunshine. She rang for Becky, her maid, and bade her pull out her new morning gown of sprigged muslin. As soon as breakfast was over she took her tambour frame and seated herself in the window of the morning room, which had an excellent view over the approach to the house.
The clock ticked away the hours. She exchanged her embroidery for a book, but still no visitor came. By three o'clock she decided she would wait in no longer and instead would take Apollo for a gallop on the moor.
The next day followed the same pattern, and the next. Lucas did not call. Other visitors came, though, including Lady Rishworth and Celia, to talk over the assembly.
Annabelle invited the ladies to take tea with her and she joined in their conversation as best she could, but there was such a lot to conceal that she feared she was poor company. Her only satisfaction was when Lady Rishworth announced that Mr Keighley had offered for Lizzie Scanlon and been accepted, she could respond with unfeigned delight for her friend's good fortune.
Annabelle might tell herself that she had no hope now of Lucas calling on her, but when the bell pealed at the front door two days later she stopped in her tracks as she crossed the hall, almost trembling with anticipation. She waited, her spirits soaring, only to sink again when she saw the visitor.
'Mr Telford, good day to you, sir. This is not your usual day to visit Papa, so I hope there is nothing amiss.'
'I hope so too,' he replied soberly. 'Your father summoned me here urgently. Perhaps you know the reason?'
'No, he has said nothing to me.' She frowned. 'Papa is in the study. I will go with you to see him.'
At first her father was reluctant for her to remain, and this made Annabelle even more anxious.
'Please, Papa, allow me to stay. Whatever is troubling you, it cannot be worse than my imaginings, should you send me away. Dear Papa, let there be no secrets between us.'
He looked undecided for a moment, but then relented and waved her to a chair.
'Very well, sit down, my love, and you, Mr Telford, please take a seat.' He picked up a crisp paper and held it out to the lawyer. 'I received this letter today. It was delivered express.'
Annabelle watched with growing impatience as Mr Telford read the letter. At last he put it down and, taking out a handkerchief, he began to polish his spectacles.
'Well?' It was as much as she could do not to reach over and snatch the letter from the desk. 'What does it say?'
'It is from Messrs Powell & Son, your neighbour's lawyers in London. First of all, Mr Monserrat wishes to be known in future as Blackstone.' He looked over the top of his glasses at Samuel.
'Yes, yes, we know that. He is the son of the previous owner,' said Annabelle. 'He told us so at the assembly. Surely that is not the only reason for the letter?'
'No, indeed, Miss Havenham.' He picked up the paper again. 'They say they have been instructed to inform you-'
'Instructed?' Annabelle broke in. 'Does that mean that Mr Blackstone has spoken to them in person?'
Her spirits lifted a little. If that was the case, then perhaps Lucas was in London. That could be the reason he had not called upon her.
'Not necessarily,' said Mr Telford cautiously. 'As far as I am aware Mr Blackstone is still at the Red Lion. No doubt he communicated with his lawyers by letter.' He went back to the paper in his hand. 'They have been instructed to inform you that Mr, er, Blackstone holds the mortgage on Oakenroyd.'
'Really?' Annabelle's anxiety began to lessen. 'If that is all … .'
'Not quite.' The lawyer studied the letter again carefully before continuing in his driest, most impersonal tone, 'He is giving notice that the whole amount, plus the interest, must be paid by Michaelmas.'
She frowned. 'I don't understand, why should he do that?'
Her father shrugged. 'Perhaps he needs the money himself.'
'But, Papa, even if the harvest is exceptionally good we would not be able to repay half such a sum.'
'We must find another lender.' Her father sighed. 'What do you say, Telford?'
The lawyer looked grim, the corners of his mouth turning down.
'You know I have already been making enquiries, but so far to no avail. You will recall, Mr Havenham, that when we raised the original mortgage eighteen months ago we calculated a sum to include the improvements you wished to make.'
'Of course. With the harvest failing it was important that there was work for the men to do.'
'Unfortunately there has not been sufficient time for those improvements to add to the value of your estate, sir. We agreed at the time the lender was being very generous, lending much more than the property was worth, and at such a good rate, too.'
Annabelle broke in, saying slowly, 'Are you saying, Mr Telford, that others may not be willing to lend us the same amount?'
'I fear that will be the case, ma'am, especially in the current climate. I will continue to enquire, but I fear there is no one in Stanton with such a sum to spare.'
Behind his desk her father was sitting silently, his face grey with worry. Annabelle turned back to the lawyer. 'Please do so, Mr Telford,' she told him. 'And if that is not successful, then you must try London again.'
'As you wish, Miss Havenham.'
Her father pushed himself up from his chair. 'Aye, do your best for us, Telford. But I don't need to tell you that, I know you will do so.'
'I will, of course, sir, but interest rates are higher now, too. It will be no good raising the capital if you cannot afford to repay it.'
The lawyer took his leave and her father returned to his chair behind the desk. 'I am very sorry, Belle. First Morwood, now this. I should have done better for you, invested more wisely … '
'No one could foresee that the war would be followed by quite such a bad summer, Papa.' She came around the desk to drop a kiss upon his forehead. 'It is nearly time for dinner. Let us go and change and forget about all these worries for a little while.'
But of course they could not. Dinner was a quiet affair, both of them caught up in their own thoughts, but when they retired to the drawing room at the end of the evening Annabelle could bear it no longer.
'I have been thinking and thinking about that letter, Papa. If it is from the lawyers, then perhaps they have not discussed it fully with Lu-Mr Blackstone. I cannot believe he knows just how difficult it will be for us to settle with him by the end of September.'
'I admit I had not thought him an unreasonable man, my dear.'
'Write to him, Papa. Invite him to come here to discuss the matter with you, face-to-face. I am sure once you have explained everything we can come to an amicable arrangement.'
'Yes, perhaps I should.' Her father brightened perceptibly. 'I am sure we could raise half the capital by September, perhaps that will suffice.' He thought about it for a few moments more. 'Yes, yes, that is what I shall do. First thing in the morning I will write to Mr Blackstone.'