Marian put down the phone. So the heir was a woman! Did she know how lucky she was? This was such a wonderful old house. Marian would sell her soul to live out her days here and continue caring for it.
It was all very well Richard saying the new owner wouldn’t be able to manage without her but that wasn’t true. Anyone could learn to do what was needed in a minimal way, though they’d have to be able to run the place economically, given the state of its finances. There were extras you could contribute, though, if you knew and loved a place. She felt she understood the house’s soul.
She didn’t need or want to go job-hunting at her age. She had enough money to live on because Roy Stovell, the former owner, had left her an adequate income and a brilliant reference, which would get her another job easily.
Since she’d been housekeeper here she’d lived in the housekeeper’s quarters, renting out her own little cottage in the village. She didn’t want to go back to the small rooms and living cheek by jowl with neighbours, whether she liked them or not. She loved the spaciousness of Stovell Abbey’s interior. She could give notice to the tenants and get her home back but even more important to her was the need for some meaningful sort of occupation.
She’d made enquiries after Roy died and found that there was a demand for short-term housekeepers, where agencies moved people into and out of jobs, chopping and changing, taking shortcuts, skimping on what they did and serving what she thought of as the Great God Money.
She’d enjoyed being her own boss for over a decade and managing the house she loved properly. She even had a list of minor renovations she had planned to put into place at minimal cost. Richard had told her she had an eye for that sort of thing and if she’d been born now she’d have been able to train as an architect.
She didn’t have any Stovell blood in her veins. Her half-brother had married one of Roy’s nieces.
Roy had been a recluse, a charming man but not sociable. The one thing she’d missed about her marriage was the social entertaining that had been necessary for her husband’s job. She’d been good at that. Evenhe had admitted as much. He shouldn’t have been unfaithful then, should he?
It was sunny today, even if it was cold, so she decided to cheer herself up by going for a long walk and to hell with everything else. Anyway, it was one of Joan’s days to clean the house, and there was no need to supervise a woman she’d grown up with, a woman who seemed to regard dirt as a personal enemy.
When she went to tell her she was going out, Joan switched off the vacuum cleaner to have a chat. ‘Do you good. Any news from Richard?’
‘Only that he’s arrived safely in Australia.’
‘Good. Did you hear the latest in the village? Dan Peverill’s back. Buried his wife last year in America, it seems. He’s the one who bought the old hall, so perhaps he’s come back to stay.’
‘Yes, I had heard.’ Of course she had. At least three people had gone to the trouble of phoning her with the news, knowing she’d had a fling with Dan when she was young. That had been over two decades ago, for heaven’s sake. She’d been married and divorced since then, not to mention starting to show signs of ageing like turning grey and putting on a little weight.
Dan would no doubt have changed too. She’d probably walk straight past him in the street. But it puzzled her why a widowed man, who’d spent the last two decades in America, would want to buy a big house like Beechley Hall in a village he’d said he never wanted to see again.
He was up to something, must be. He had never done anything without a very good financial reason and she doubted that would have changed.
She put on a hooded coat and a scarf, and went out the back way, taking her favourite path through the woods. Lost in memories, she didn’t see him till she was quite close then she stopped dead and debated briefly fleeing down a side path. But he saw her before she could do anything and pride alone kept her walking steadily forward towards him.
At first glance he hadn’t changed all that much. He was still lean and looked fit. But when she studied his face she did see changes – well, she thought she did. His once luxuriant hair was thinner, the light brown faded to pepper and salt, and there were lines round his eyes.
Like her, he’d been lost in thought but she saw the exact moment when he noticed her and realised who she was. To her surprise the cool expression gave way to a genuine smile.
‘Marian! How delightful to see you again!’ He strode forward, taking her shoulders in a light grip and kissing her cheeks, one after the other, the way strangers often did these days. She always wished they wouldn’t because it meant nothing, only this kiss might perhaps have meant a little more than usual, a reminder of her youth at the very least.
She didn’t know what to say so simply smiled back at him till she realised that he hadn’t let go of her, was studying her face intently.
‘Something’s worrying you, Marian.’
‘That’s a fine greeting after all these years!’
‘I’ve done the kissy-kissy routine. What else do you need as a greeting? Or do you want me to pretend I don’t know you and discuss the weather?’
She felt her own stiffness melting a little. ‘No, of course not.’
‘I know you well enough to read the expression on your face still and it’s not a happy one.’
She sighed, wondering how best to respond.
‘Going for a walk?’
‘Yes.’
He turned to face in the same direction as her. ‘Good. We’ll walk down to the lake together and catch each other up on our news. You can tell me what’s worrying you or if you don’t want to do that, you can bring me up to date on your precious Abbey. Is it as beautiful as ever? Do you love it as much? You must have put down deep roots in Wiltshire because you’ve never moved away.’
‘Yes, I do still love the Abbey. My nephew’s been doing some renovating and it hasn’t looked as good for years.’
‘He’s wasted his time, though, hasn’t he? Someone else will benefit from it now. He must be disappointed not to have inherited after all.’
She was startled. ‘Word of that’s got out already, even to a visitor like you?’
‘Of course it has. This is Stovell Magna. Rumours breed like rabbits on speed in our village, always have done. Though I don’t exactly count myself as a visitor.’
‘Well, to tell the truth, Richard and I are both disappointed about the new heir. If anyone was perfect as custodian of the Abbey, it was him.’
‘I heard that he once had other plans.’
‘He shelved those.’ She shook her head in a vain attempt to banish her worries about her nephew. ‘Don’t let’s talk about that. I’m sick of answering questions about the new heir. All I know is the latest news is that it’s a she, not a he. You’re the first to hear that.’
He let out a long, low whistle.
‘Now, tell me about America. I was sorry to hear you’d lost your wife so young.’
‘Yes. And cancer can be a difficult way to die. You’d have liked JoBeth and she’d have liked you.’
‘And your children?’
‘Off my hands now – if children ever are totally off your hands. Kelly’s working in IT and got married recently, and Brandon’s struggling to make his name as an actor. He’s good, but so are a lot of other young men his age and it’s a chancy profession.’
‘Goodness! How can he be the son of someone like you, who never liked to be the focus of attention, and want to be an actor?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got over that attitude now. Had to. But I still don’t approve of his choice of job. It has no financial security whatsoever.’
He offered no further information so she didn’t pursue the point, just asked the main question that interested her. ‘Are you back for good or only visiting?’
‘Surely they told you I’d bought Beechley Hall?’
‘I assumed it was for an investment. You swore you’d never come back to live here permanently.’
‘Well, I’ve unsworn it. I’m here to stay.’ He caught her cynical expression and added, ‘For a while, at least. I’m just waiting to do the final handover for a job in the Middle East, which will only take me a few days, then I’ll take full possession of the Hall.’
‘What are you going to do with yourself?’
‘Update the hall and its grounds. I...
