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‘Mama called you “my lord”. That really brought home to me what has happened and how your life will change. You might not be the same person at all.’
‘Nonsense. I shall not change just because I have inherited a title and an estate. You, of course, will become Lady Wyndham when we marry.’
‘And shall I be mistress of Broadacres?’
‘Naturally, you will.’
‘I am not sure I shall be any good at it. I might let you down.’
‘Oh, you silly goose,’ he had said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘Of course you will not let me down and you will have the mourning period to become used to the idea. Now I must go. I shall see you again when you and your mother call on my mother.’
* * *
Lady Wyndham, he was told when he arrived home and enquired for her, had been given a tisane by her maid and was resting in her room. He did not disturb her, but spoke to the steward about matters of the estate, telling him to carry on as usual, then he set about writing letters to everyone who needed to be told of his father’s demise. It was sad work and he had to stop frequently to overcome his emotion. His father had been the best of fathers, spending time with him as he grew up, teaching him to shoot, fish and ride, making sure he had a good education, instilling in him a sense of what was right and proper, and showing him by example to care for those around him. ‘High and low, we are all human beings,’ he had said once. ‘We should treat everyone with the dignity they deserve whether they be the poorest labourer or the king of England.’ Now he was no more.
Already the news was becoming known in the village and people were going about with long faces. Many of the servants and even the hardy outside staff were openly weeping. Lord Wyndham had been a popular figure, known for his humanity and fairness. Mark prayed he would be able to live up to his father’s ideals.
* * *
Drew came to him as he was finishing the last of the letters. ‘I assume there will be no wedding yet a while,’ he said. ‘And now is not the time for house guests. I plan to leave for London by tonight’s mail.’
‘I shall miss you, Drew.’
‘And I you. But I will return for the funeral, if you would like me to.’
‘Of course. Next Thursday, here in Hadlea.’
‘Please convey my gratitude to Lady Wyndham for her generous hospitality. I have written her a note, which I have asked her maid to pass on to her when she is feeling up to receiving it.’
‘That is kind of you.’
‘And express my good wishes and condolences to Miss Isabel. It is going to be hard for her to have the wedding postponed and cope with a very different life from the one she envisaged. How did she take the news?’
‘She is very sad, of course, but took it well enough, all things considered. She has the support of her mother and Jane, for which I am grateful, for I cannot give her the attention I would like just now.’
‘I am sure they understand. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and pack.’
‘There is something you can do for me,’ Mark said, as they shook hands. ‘Will you make sure my letters go on the mail?’
‘Gladly.’
‘I’ve just one more to write. I’ll send them to you when they are ready. Jeremy will drive you to the Fox and Hounds.’
Drew left and Mark pulled another sheet of notepaper towards him, dipped his pen in the ink and resumed writing.
* * *
An hour later he was free to receive Lady Cavenhurst and her three daughters. All four bent the knee and addressed him as ‘my lord’, which made him feel thoroughly uncomfortable and he begged them not to change towards him.
‘How is your dear mother?’ Lady Cavenhurst asked. ‘I would not intrude on her grief if she does not wish it.’
Even as she spoke Lady Wyndham entered the room. She was dressed in unrelieved black, but was dry-eyed and upright. ‘Grace, thank you for coming,’ she said.
Lady Cavenhurst hurried towards her and took both her hands in her own. ‘Helen, I am so very, very sorry. If there is anything we can do for you, you have only to ask.’
‘There is nothing that I can think of. Will you be seated?’
They sat in a little circle, not knowing what to say until Jane spoke. ‘Lord Wyndham will be sorely missed by everyone who knew him,’ she said. ‘He was such a good, kind man, always ready to listen and so generous, too.’
‘Yes, he was, wasn’t he?’ Lady Wyndham smiled suddenly. ‘I remember when he found Jeremy as a child running about the streets of London and brought him home. He was filthy and verminous, but nothing would do but he should be given a bath and new clothes and fed. He slept in the stables and has been with us ever since.’
