Bought for Revenge(8)

'Your coming is timely, Mr Monserrat,' she conceded. 'You have brought a  great deal of work to Stanton at a time when it is much needed.'

'I have heard the harvests were bad last year.'

'Dreadful. They called it the year without a summer, the crops rotted in  the fields. The farmers had nothing to harvest, so the labourers had no  work and no money was spent, thus the tradesmen suffered too.' She  shook her head, remembering the sad, strained faces in the town. 'My  father did what he could, set men on to renew the road from Oakenroyd to  Stanton and rebuild the stone walls.'

'And he borrowed money to do it.'

'Yes.' She looked across, frowning slightly. 'How did you know that?'

'A guess, merely. Ah, here we are.'

They emerged from the trees and the house now stood before them. It was  just over two weeks since Annabelle had ridden here last-and been so  rudely accosted, but she must try to forget that. She was astonished by  the transformation. A forest of scaffolding was growing up around the  old walls, the sweeping drive was covered with wagons and much of the  ground between the house and the woods had been cleared of weeds and  saplings.

'I shall lay new lawns, of course, but not until the builders and  stonemasons have finished their work.' He pointed to one side of the  house. 'I propose to plant a rose garden there, on the west front.'

'In the painting the roses are on the other side of the house.'

'Yes, but they never prospered there.'

'You were fortunate to find anyone to remember such a detail.' She gazed  at the busy scene with mixed feelings. Of course it was a good thing  for the manor to be restored, but the abandoned ruin of the old house  had been so peaceful, a tranquil haven that she had come to look upon as  hers alone. That was all gone now.

Lucas watched the play of emotion on her face. She had grown up here,  she considered it hers. He quickly stamped down the tiny flicker of  sympathy. Annabelle Havenham was merely losing her playground:  twenty-five years ago he had lost his home and his parents, everything  he held dear destroyed in one terrible night. He was obliged to push the  memories aside so that he could continue.

'I have a stonemason inspecting the old walls of the house,' he said.  'To see which of them can be made sound. Much of the house will have to  be rebuilt. Strange thing is that where the walls have collapsed much of  the stone has gone. Robbed for other buildings, perhaps.'

'There is an abundance of stone on the far side of the rise.' She pointed with her crop to a tree-covered hill behind the house.

'Will you show me?' Lucas turned his horse. 'We could go there now.'

She led the way. The old path around the base of the small hill was just  passable, but although the trees were still bare of leaves she had to  push the grey through the undergrowth, where the brambles were so high  they snagged at her skirts. Eventually they reached a very uneven area  of ground. The trees were much thinner here, growing between haphazard  grassy mounds. Annabelle walked Apollo beside one particularly large  mound and reached down to push aside some of the vegetation with the end  of her crop.                       
       
           



       

'This whole area is made up of piles of cut stone. It is very overgrown  and the stones themselves are covered in lichen, but you will see that  they are all dressed, ready to use.'

'And use them we will. Thank you, Miss Havenham. I wonder why it was brought here?'

'I think my father had some idea of building a house on this spot.'

'Surely it would have been better to rebuild the old manor? The views are much better from that side of the hill.'

'I am sure he had his reasons.'

He did not press her to explain, saying instead, 'Tomorrow I will set  men on to clear a path for the wagons. There is sufficient material here  to rebuild the west wall and it should keep the builders supplied with  stone until I can open up the delph again.'

'You know about the old quarry? I suppose someone in the town told you, I did not think any of them would remember it.'

'Clearly you were wrong.'

The frank grey eyes met his for a moment, a faint twinkle in their  depths. 'Then they have stolen my thunder, sir. I meant to amaze you  with my local knowledge.'

It was the first crack in the wall of ice she had put around herself.

Lucas was heartened.

'I am sure there is plenty more for you to show me.'

He smiled at her, but the defences were up again. She replied coldly, as if to make up for her momentary lapse in hostilities.

'My father instructed me to show you everything that might be of interest, Mr Monserrat.'

She turned the big grey and rode on. He followed her to the valley where  the natural springs welled up from the ground and she pointed out the  damaged and dry culvert that had once carried water to the house. Moving  into the surrounding woods, she showed him the heavily overgrown tracks  that cut across the Morwood land.

'Odd that they should have been allowed to fall into disuse.'

'Not really. They lead only to the old house. Once that was abandoned there was no need for them.'

'But all this woodland, untended. Do the local people not come here to gather firewood, or snare rabbits?'

'I have never seen any sign of that. Perhaps they are afraid of the ghosts.'

Lucas looked around. In every direction the trees grew tall and thick,  cutting out all sound from the rest of the world. At night it would be a  very different place, dark and sinister, a place for hiding secrets.

Lucas, your father, he has the black temper this morning. You had best go away and play, my love. Keep out of his sight.

He shivered and his horse sidled as his hands clenched on the rein. Annabelle glanced at him, brows raised.

'Have I unnerved you, with the talk of ghosts?'

'There are no ghosts,' he said shortly. 'Only memories. Let us move on.'

They made their way to a sunlit valley where the warmth of the spring  sunshine dispelled his melancholy and he was able to concentrate on  winning over his companion.

He went carefully, showing an interest in the land, asking questions,  drawing her out to tell him what she knew of the estate's history,  encouraging her to share her memories. He might tease her gently, but he  maintained a rigid propriety and gradually, as the day went on, the ice  maiden thawed a little.

The tour took much longer than Annabelle had anticipated, partly because  the overgrown paths meant their progress was slow. They had to take  long detours to reach the points of interest she wanted to show the new  owner of Morwood. He was eager to see everything and she was surprised  at how much she enjoyed acquainting him with the land where she had  spent so many happy hours. It was impossible to stay aloof, although she  caught herself up at times, refusing to respond with more than a tight  smile to his pleasantries. She was still unsure of Mr Lucas Monserrat.

Clegg reminded her of the time and Annabelle was surprised by a tiny  stab of regret as they left the old house and its neglected grounds  behind them. They rode in silence until they reached the highest point  of the moor. A sudden tinkle of bells was carried on the wind and she  slowed, looking up to see a packhorse train trotting across the distant  hills, while in the valley below Oakenroyd and its gardens basked in the  weak sunshine. How she loved this place!

'Your knowledge of Morwood is invaluable, Miss Havenham,' said Lucas.

'Thank you.' Her response was cool. Not for the world would she let him  know that she appreciated his praise, nor how much she had enjoyed  herself. 'You could gain as much from a map, I am sure.'

'All the maps in the world are not as useful as someone who knows and  loves the land. Perhaps you will come again? We have not yet seen  everything.'

'No, but there is only the Home Wood to explore. The rest is mainly  farmland, and that has been well tended and needs no explanation from  me.'                       
       
           



       

'But I thought you might show me the lake.'

She looked at him, surprised. 'You are particularly well informed, sir.'

'You would not expect me to purchase an estate without making some push to find out what I was buying.'

'No, I suppose not.'

'And you will come again and be my guide?'

She bit her lip. It was tempting, but she must not succumb. 'You do not need me.'

'Oh, I think I do, Miss Havenham. Having seen how treacherously  overgrown the paths have become, I might well lose myself in the  wilderness that is now the Home Wood. Remember "Sleeping Beauty." It  could be a hundred years before anyone comes to my rescue.'

His reference to her earlier comment surprised a laugh from Annabelle. He grinned back at her.

'So you will come. Tomorrow?'

She shook her head. 'I have an engagement.'

'Monday, then, if the weather is good.' Still she hesitated and he  continued, 'I intend to be at the manor all day, so come if you can.'

It had been such a pleasurable day, why not repeat it? She was sorely tempted.