The Victory Garden(60)

They both lapsed into awkward, sad silence, only broken by the slow tick of the grandfather clock and the crackle of the logs on the fire.

“So what will you do now?” Lady Charlton asked.

“Actually, that’s why I came to see you,” Emily said, remembering herself. “I have a proposition for you, Lady Charlton.”

“A proposition?” Lady Charlton sounded amused.

“I would like to live in that little cottage, and in return, I’ll continue to take care of your garden. I don’t ask for any pay, just to take my midday meal at the house and for Mr Simpson to provide me with either wood or coal for the fire and stove.”

Lady Charlton was frowning. “Now, why on earth would you want to do that?”

“To put it simply, because I have nowhere else to go. My parents and I do not see eye to eye . . .”

“You’ve quarrelled with your parents?”

“They didn’t approve of my young man.”

“I see. But breaking off contact with your family is a serious move, my dear. Something you might come to regret later.”

Emily hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I have to be completely frank with you: I’m expecting a baby. Lieutenant Kerr and I were not able to marry before he died, although he had proposed and given me a ring. But in the eyes of the world, that makes me a social outcast. My parents have made it more than clear what they think of girls like me. So I can completely understand if you would not want to be tainted with someone in my condition.”

Lady Charlton was still frowning. “I can’t possibly allow you to work in my garden,” she said.

Emily went to stand up. “I quite understand. I won’t trouble you any further.”

Lady Charlton waved a hand to stop Emily as she started to rise to her feet. “No, no, silly girl. What I meant was that you can’t be expected to work in the garden in your condition.”

“I really don’t mind,” Emily said. “I’m not an invalid. I don’t think I can manage the lawnmower alone, but I can certainly weed and prune and take care of the kitchen garden.”

“Maybe for another month or so, but the winters can be quite brutal here. But I have a proposition for you in return. I need someone to catalogue my husband’s collections and books. I have kept meaning to do it, but old age has made me lazy. And I rather fear I may have to sell some of his things to keep this place afloat if the home farm is not able to spring back into operation soon.”

“I can certainly help you with that,” Emily said. “In fact, I’d enjoy it immensely.”

“And there can be no question of your living at the cottage,” Lady Charlton said. “We can find you a room in the house.”

Emily shook her head. “No, thank you very much. But I’d rather have my own place. I don’t want Mrs Trelawney to feel beholden to me, and I want to stand on my own feet.”

The old lady looked at her long and hard, then she nodded. “I understand. You need space to work through your grief.”

Emily returned her gaze. “Yes,” she said. “That’s it exactly. Since I heard the news, we’ve been working hard in the fields all day. At night, I’ve been sleeping in a room with five other women. And then the shock about the baby . . . I have locked my grief away.”

“Just don’t let it overwhelm you,” Lady Charlton said. “You will get over it, you know. At this moment, you think you won’t, but you will. In time, you will be able to look back upon your beloved as a fond memory.”

“So I can move into the cottage?” Emily asked, finding this conversation almost more than she could bear. “And I can ask Simpson for some coal or firewood?”

“With my blessing,” the old lady said. “But why don’t you take your meals here at the house?”

“As tempting as that is, I have to learn to be independent. I have been coddled all my life. Now I shall be responsible for a child. I’d appreciate a midday meal if I’m out working in the garden, but other than that . . .”

“I hope I might persuade you to dine with me on occasion,” Lady Charlton said. “I’d welcome the company. There is nothing more dreary than dining alone.”

“Then I will be happy to join you, on occasion,” Emily said.

“Well, that’s settled then,” the old lady said. “Work on the garden if you like. I can understand you don’t want to be cooped up all day with an old woman. But when the weather is not conducive to outdoor activities, then you and I shall catalogue the collections.” A wistful look came over her face. “This might prove helpful if I decide that I have to sell Bucksley House.”

“You might have to sell?”

Lady Charlton gave a tired little smile. “My dear, this house is hardly the correct size for one old lady. I don’t have the staff to run it properly. Poor old Ethel’s joints creak so badly that she can hardly get up the stairs. It should have a family in it. Life and laughter. Happiness.”

“What happens to your husband’s title? Is there no heir to move in?”

“The title has died out, I’m afraid. There are no immediate relatives and only a couple of female cousins.” She sighed. “No, there is no legitimate claim on the Charlton name.” She paused, then chuckled. “Which is lucky, don’t you think? Or I might have been turned out of here by now. Heirs have a habit of doing that to elderly dowagers.”