thank you for making me so welcome. When things get bad, I shall know where to run, now …’
‘It still hurts, then?’ There was understanding in his eyes, and compassion.
‘Like the very devil, Tom. Sometimes I want to beat my fists against the wall, and scream. It’s a good thing I’ve got Drew to keep me sane.’ The train let off a hiss of steam, then clanked to a stop. Smiling bravely, she turned to him, holding out her hand in goodbye. ‘Don’t wave me off, Tom? Just give me a hand with my cases, then go?’
‘If that’s what you want …’
‘It is. I like to be met, but partings dismay me.’
‘Right, then!’ He lifted her cases high onto the luggage rack, then stepping down he gathered her to him, holding her tightly. ‘Thanks for all you did for Alice when she was in need of a friend. If there’s ever anything we can do for you, we’ll do it – no questions asked.’ He cupped her face in his hands, laying his lips gently to her forehead. ‘You’re a lovely lady, Julia MacMalcolm. Come and see us again, soon? Don’t wait for the next christening?’
‘I won’t – be sure of it. Now off you go – please? No goodbyes …’
He thought a lot about Julia and her ladyship on his way home and about the little lad up there at Rowangarth. And he thought about what he and Alice had talked about, last night in bed. It had been her decision entirely, yet he had agreed with it, even though he told her to sleep on it, then sleep on it again before she wrote to Lady Helen. But when Alice’s mind was made up there was nothing would change it. She would think on, like he said, yet still she would write that letter to Rowangarth, and now that she had accepted the way things were, it was best for all concerned she should do it.
He felt a sudden pricking of tears and coughed sternly, blowing his nose loudly. And it hadn’t really been tears he had felt – more like a tingling of happiness – nay, gratitude – that his world should be so damn-near perfect, because how many men had everything they could wish for on the face of this earth? How many?
Tom Dwerryhouse was not a praying man, but he had lifted his eyes to the early morning sky and whispered, ‘Thanks’; whispered it so quietly that only God could hear him. Then he shook his head, feeling foolish at his daftness, and slapped the reins down hard and called, ‘Hup!’ to the pony.
But how many men were lucky as Tom Dwerryhouse? Certainly not Giles Sutton nor his brother Robert, nor Andrew MacMalcolm. They had nothing but a hero’s death; no Alice, no nestling girl child to rock to sleep. And Julia had so little. Only young Drew, and her memories. Happen this morning he should not have kissed her goodbye, but he’d done it on an impulse, seeing the naked sadness in her eyes, the aloneness. It had been a kiss of compassion, of comfort, and she had not taken it amiss. That brief closeness between them had prompted him to whisper,
‘No goodbyes, but don’t look so lost, Julia lass. Alice shall come and visit, I promise you. All I ask is that she won’t meet up with young Sutton. I couldn’t abide it if he was to upset her again. If I ever thought there was the smallest chance of that, I wouldn’t want her to go.’
‘He won’t upset her, be sure of that! You know how I detest him,’ Julia had said, tight-mouthed. ‘Alice and Daisy will be safe, at Rowangarth.’
‘Detest? Aye, that’s how I feel about him an’ all. That one’s a creature only a mother could love – and there must be times when even she loses patience with him.’
‘Don’t worry, Tom. Always remember that I don’t want them to meet, either. It’s every bit as important to me he should never suspect that Drew is his.’
‘But mightn’t he suspect already?’ Tom frowned.
‘He might, but suspicion is one thing; proof is quite another. It’s his word against Rowangarth’s, don’t forget. Even his brother Nathan is on our side. Elliot wouldn’t dare!’
‘Happen you are right. And why are we spoiling the last of your holiday talking about him,’ he’d laughed, making light of it, and she had stepped onto the train, taking the window seat, smiling. She was still smiling, chin high, when he turned for a last look at her. She would be home, now, at Rowangarth, poor lass; back to her lonely bed with no one to kiss her, make love with her, tell her everything would be all right.
‘Damn that war!’ he gasped.
‘Tom?’ Alice was at his side in an instant, eyes anxious. ‘What is it, love? What was it you just said?’
‘Dreaming,’ he mumbled, cursing his carelessness. ‘Must have nodded off. Aye – happen I was dreaming …’
‘About the war! It’s been over two years, almost, yet still it’s always there, at the backs of our minds. Don’t think anyone who was in France will rightly forget …’
‘No. It’s got a lot to answer for. But let’s get this bairn up to her cot? She’s fast asleep.’
Carefully, he got to his feet, cupping the little head protectively in his hand. Then half-way up the stairs he turned abruptly.
‘Alice, I do love you – but you know it, don’t you?’
‘I know it,’ she said softly, and there was no need for reassurance, because her eyes said it for her. I love you. I shall always love you …
‘Off you go,’ she said softly. ‘Put her in her cot. I’ll set the kettle on. We’ll have a sup of tea, then I’ve got a letter to write …’
‘There, now.’ Alice lay down her pen and corked the ink bottle. ‘That’s over and done with. I’ll post it in the morning when I go to the village. Just one thing more, Tom …’
‘Whatever else?’ he smiled indulgently. ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’
‘That it can’t! I’m in the mood for setting things to rights. I’ve written to Rowangarth – now there’s one thing more I must tell you.
‘You mind you said that Daisy did well at her christening – had so many lovely things given to her that the West Welby lads’d be courting her for her dowry – or something daft like that …?’
‘A joke, love, though I’ve given the matter a deal of thought,’ he said gravely, though his eyes were bright with teasing, ‘and there’s none in that village half good enough for our Daisy! But what’s brought all this on?’
‘Like I said – setting things to rights, because happen you should know that you might be more right than you realize – about the bairn, I mean …’
‘Alice?’ He moved towards her, but she got to her feet, taking up a position behind her chair. And she always did that, he frowned, when something bothered her. ‘Tell me, sweetheart?’
‘Our Daisy does have a dowry,’ she whispered, eyes on the chairback. ‘First thing I did after she was born was to open a bank account in her name.’
‘And what’s wrong with that, bonny lass? Nice to think she’ll have a bit of brass to draw on if ever she should need it. I’ve set my heart on her getting a scholarship to the Grammar School – there’ll be fancy uniform to buy, and –’
‘Tom!
