All Else Confusion

All Else Confusion
Betty Neels

Mills & Boon presents the complete Betty Neels collection. Timeless tales of heart-warming romance by one of the world’s best-loved romance authors. She probably shouldn’t have married him… Annis’s life as the daughter of the Rectory was a busy and happy one, certainly not lacking in love – but she loved Jake Royale even more than she loved her family. When he proposed to her she didn’t hesitate, though she knew he didn’t love her – he had said from the start that he didn’t think that love was necessary to make a marriage work.But even if she could accept his lack of feeling for her, would Jake ever admit Annis into his life?

“Annis, did I ever tell you what a nice girl you were?” Jake asked.

“And I shall mind very much if you don’t take some interest in me. I’m sorry for behaving like a tyrant because you were lunching with someone. You see, I thought that you might be lonely and I came back prepared to…well, never mind that now.” He tapped her nose very gently with a finger. “And the dark-haired lady, she’s the wife of an old friend of mine. He couldn’t attend the board meeting because he was under the weather, so she brought down some important papers to be signed. He had to sign them, too, so I went back with her to get it done.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She smiled up at him. “Father always says I jump to conclusions. It must be my red hair.”

He let her go and dropped a careless kiss on her bright head. “Then I must take care to remember that, mustn’t I? Shall we have tea?”

Romance readers around the world were sad to note the passing of Betty Neels in June 2001. Her career spanned thirty years, and she continued to write into her ninetieth year. To her millions of fans, Betty epitomized the romance writer, and yet she began writing almost by accident. She had retired from nursing, but her inquiring mind still sought stimulation. Her new career was born when she heard a lady in her local library bemoaning the lack of good romance novels. Betty’s first book, Sister Peters in Amsterdam, was published in 1969, and she eventually completed 134 books. Her novels offer a reassuring warmth that was very much a part of her own personality. She was a wonderful writer, and she will be greatly missed. Her spirit and genuine talent will live on in all her stories.

All Else Confusion

Betty Neels

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER ONE

THE FOTHERGILLS were out in force; it wasn’t often that they were all home together at the same time. Annis was always there, of course, being the eldest and such a help in running the parish and helping her mother around the house, and contrary to would-be sympathisers, perfectly content with her lot. Mary who came next was in her first year at college and Edward, at seventeen, was in his last term at the public school whose fees had been the cause of much sacrifice on his parents part. James was at the grammar school in a neighbouring town and Emma and Audrey were still at the local church school. So they didn’t see much of each other, because holidays weren’t always exactly the same and they all possessed so many friends that one or other of them was mostly away visiting one or other of them. But just for once the half term holiday had fallen on the same days for all of them, and since the February afternoon was masquerading as spring, they had all elected to go for a walk together.

Annis led the way, a tall, well built girl with glorious red hair and a lovely face. She looked a good deal younger than her twenty-two years and although she was moderately clever, she had an endearing dreaminess, a generous nature and a complete lack of sophistication. She also, on occasion, made no bones about speaking her mind if her feelings had been strongly stirred.

Mary, walking with Audrey a few paces behind her, was slighter and smaller in build and just as pretty in a dark way, while little Audrey, still plump and youthfully awkward, had her elder sister’s red hair and cornflower blue eyes.

Emma and James were together, quarrelling cheerfully about something or other, and Edward brought up the rear, a dark, serious boy who intended to follow in his father’s footsteps.

The church and the Rectory lay at one end of Millbury, the village to which their father had brought his young wife and where they still lived in the early Victorian house which had been considered suitable for the rector in those days, and was still suitable for the Reverend Mr Fothergill, considering the size of his family. Certainly it had a great many rooms, some of them far too large and lofty for comfort, but there was only one bathroom with an old-fashioned bath on clawed feet in its centre, and the hot water system needed a good deal of forbearance, while the kitchen, although cosy and plentifully supplied with cupboards, lacked the amenities considered by most people to be quite necessary nowadays. Mrs Fothergill, a gently placid woman, didn’t complain, for the simple reason that it would have been of no use; with six children to bring up, clothe and feed, there had never been enough money to spare on the house. Her one consolation was that since she had married young, there was the strong possibility that all the children would be nicely settled in time for her to turn her attention to refurbishing it.

Reaching the top of the hill behind the village, Annis turned to look down at her home. From a distance its red brick walls, surrounded by the shrubbery no one had the time to do much about, looked pleasant in the watery sunshine, and beyond it the church’s squat tower stood out against the Wiltshire downs stretching away to more wooded country.

She turned her fine eyes on to her brothers and sisters gathered around her. ‘There’s plenty of wood in the park,’ she suggested, ‘Matthew told me that they’d cut down several elms along the back drive. Let’s get as much as we can—a pity we didn’t bring some sacks, but I forgot.’

‘Well, with six of us carrying a load each, we ought to manage quite a lot,’ offered James. ‘I could go back for some sacks, Annis…?’

She shook her head. ‘It’ll be getting dark in another hour or so—it’s not worth it.’

They followed the path running along the edge of the field at the top of the hill and climbed a gate at the end into a narrow lane, and it was another five minutes’ walk before they reached the entrance to the back drive to Mellbury Park where Colonel Avery lived. The lodge beside the open gate had fallen into a near ruin and the drive had degenerated into a deeply rutted track, but they all knew their way around and with Annis still leading, started to walk along it. They came upon the cut down trees within a very short time, and just as Annis had said, there was an abundance of wood.

They worked methodically; almost everyone went wooding in the village, and the Fothergills had become experts at knowing what best to take and what best to leave and just how much they could carry. Presently, suitably burdened according to size, they turned for home. The bright afternoon was yielding to a grey dusk; by the time they reached it it would be almost dark. Annis marshalled her little band into a single line with Edward leading the way and herself bringing up the rear. Little Audrey, who was frightened of the dark, was directly in front of her, carrying the few light bits of wood considered sufficient for her strength.

They made a good deal of noise as they went, calling to each other, singing a bit from time to time, laughing a lot. They were almost at the lodge when Annis heard the thud of hooves behind her and stopped to turn the way they had come and shout at the top of her powerful lungs:

‘Slow down, Matthew, we’re just ahead of you!’ And as a young man on a big black horse pulled up within yards: ‘Honestly, Matt, you must be out of your mind! You could have bowled the lot of us over like ninepins!’

‘No chance of that with you bawling your head off like that—you’re in our park anyway!’

‘So what? We come here almost every day.’ She smiled dazzlingly at him. ‘You use our barn for target practice.’

He laughed then, a pleasant-faced young man of about her own age, and shouted greetings to the rest of the Fothergills, scattered along the path ahead of her, then called over his shoulder, ‘Jake, come and meet our neighbours!’

The second rider had been waiting quietly, screened by the overgrowth, and Annis hadn’t seen him. He was astride a strawberry roan, a big man with powerful shoulders and a handsome arrogant face; it was dusk now and she couldn’t be sure of the colour of his eyes or his hair, but of one thing she was instantly sure—she didn’t like him, and she didn’t like the smile on his face as Matthew introduced him, nor the unhurried study of her person and the still more leisurely survey of the rest of the Fothergills who, seeing that Matthew had someone with him, had come closer to see who it was. Jake Royle, Matthew had called him, a friend of the family who had been in New Zealand on business. ‘You must come up and have a drink one evening,’ said Matthew, and sidled his horse over to Mary. ‘You too, Mary—and Edward, of course.’

‘Well, it’ll have to be soon,’ said Annis briskly. ‘Mary is going back at the end of the week, and so is Edward.’

‘And you?’ queried Jake Royle softly.

She gave him a quick glance. ‘Me? I live at home.’ He didn’t answer, only smiled again, and her dislike deepened. How had Matt got to know him? she wondered; he was much older for a start, at least in his early thirties, and as unlike Matt’s usual friends as chalk from cheese. She caught Edward’s eye. ‘We’d better be on our way; tea’s early—it’s the Mothers’ Union whist drive this evening.’

‘Good lord, you don’t all play whist, do you?’

‘Is there any reason why we shouldn’t? Don’t be an ass, Matt, you know quite well that only Edward and Mary and I go.’ Annis turned to go and then stopped. ‘Could you come over when you’ve got a minute and take a look at Nancy?’

‘Yes, of course—we’ll come now…’

She said hastily: ‘Oh, there’s no need for that—besides, you have Mr Royle with you. Tomorrow morning would be better.’

‘Well, all right, if you say so.’

She said rather pointedly: ‘I’ll expect you about ten o’clock if that’s OK for you?’ She gave him a wide smile, nodded distantly to Jake Royle, and hurried to join the others, already on their way.

‘Lifelong friends?’ queried Jake Royle as the Fothergills disappeared round a bend in the track.

‘Grew up with them,’ said Matthew. ‘Annis and I are the same age; knew each other in our prams.’

‘A striking-looking girl,’ observed Mr Royle, ‘and interesting…’

An opinion not shared by Annis; on the way back they all discussed Matt’s companion. ‘He’s very good-looking,’ said Mary, ‘didn’t you think so, Annis?’