The Daughter of the Manor

His hand was large and cool and firm and she felt compelled to look at him. Very handsome, she conceded—rather sleepy blue eyes and very fair hair, a splendid nose and a rather thin mouth. He was tall too, which was nice, she reflected; so often she found herself looking down on people from her five feet ten inches. Now she had to look up, quite a long way too!

‘Six foot four?’ she wondered out loud.

The Flemings had turned away to speak to someone else. Dr Galbraith’s mouth quivered faintly. ‘Five, actually. Are you feeling sore?’

She said austerely, ‘I hardly think that is a question I need to answer, Dr Galbraith.’

She had gone rather pink and glanced around her, on the point of making an excuse to go and talk to the vicar. She was stopped by his saying, ‘I speak in my professional capacity, Miss Crosby; presumably you will be one of my patients.’

‘I am never ill,’ said Leonora, unknowingly tempting fate.

Mrs Willoughby had joined them again. ‘Getting to know each other?’ she wanted to know. ‘That’s nice—take Leonora in to dinner, will you, James?’ She tapped his sleeve. ‘You don’t mind if I call you James? Though if ever I need your skill I’ll be sure to call you Doctor.’

Leonora had been sipping her sherry; now she put the glass down. ‘I really must circulate, and Nora Howes is dying to come and talk to you.’

He looked amused. ‘Oh? How do you know that?’

‘Woman’s intuition.’ She gave him a brief smile and crossed the room and he watched her go, thinking that a splendid creature such as she deserved a better dress.

She had been right about Nora Howes, who laid a hand on his sleeve, threw her head back and gave him an arch look. Older than Leonora, he supposed, as thin as a washboard and wearing a rather too elaborate dress for a dinner party in the country. But he could be charming when he liked and Nora relinquished him reluctantly as they went in to dinner, and he turned with relief to Leonora as the soup was served. Not a girl he could get interested in, he reflected—far too matter-of-fact and outspoken—but at least she didn’t simper.

It was a round table so conversation, after a time, became more or less general. He had Mrs Fleming on his other side, a quiet middle-aged woman, a good deal younger than her husband and anxious about him.

‘I didn’t want him to come,’ she confided quietly, ‘but he insisted. ‘He’s not well; he’s going into hospital tomorrow.’

He said gently, ‘You mustn’t worry too much, Mrs Fleming. If he leads a quiet life for the next few months and keeps to his treatment he’ll get a great deal better.’

She smiled at him. ‘If anyone else had said that I should have supposed them to be pulling the wool over my eyes, but because it’s you I believe what you’ve told me.’

‘Thank you. I wish all patients were as trusting. Don’t hesitate to call me if you’re worried.’

‘I won’t. It’s so nice that you’re going to live at Buntings—such a lovely old house and it’s been empty far too long.’

She turned to speak to her neighbour and presently everyone went back to the drawing room to drink coffee and gossip. It might be a small village but there was always something happening.

The party broke up shortly before eleven o’clock and since it was cold outside no one lingered to talk once they’d left the house. Sir William unlocked his car door and glanced at the Rolls-Royce parked beside him.

Who’s the lucky owner? he wondered, and saw Dr Fleming getting in.

‘Good Lord, Bill, have you come into a fortune?’ he called.

‘No, no, James owns it. Rather nice, isn’t it?’ He disappeared inside and Sir William got behind his wheel and backed the car. ‘Lucky young devil,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘Come up on the pools, has he?’

Leonora made some vague reply. She was thinking about Tony. She hadn’t seen him for a week or so; perhaps he would come at the weekend. She hoped so; she felt strangely unsettled and just seeing him would reassure her—she wasn’t sure why she wanted to be reassured, but that didn’t matter; Tony would set her world to rights again.

He did come, driving up on Saturday afternoon in his Porsche, and if his kiss and hug were lacking the fervour of a man in love she didn’t notice because she was glad to see him.

He went indoors with her to meet her parents and make himself agreeable and then they went for a walk. He took her arm and talked and she listened happily to his plans. They would marry—he was a bit vague as to exactly when—and he would set about restoring her father’s house. ‘There’s a chap I know who knows exactly what needs to be done. It’ll be a showplace by the time it’s finished. We can have friends down for the weekend…’

Leonora raised a puzzled face. ‘But Tony, we shan’t be living here; Mother and Father wouldn’t much like a great many people coming to stay—even for a weekend.’

He said rather too quickly, ‘Oh, I’m thinking of special occasions—Christmas and birthdays and so on; it’s usual for families to get together at such times.’ He smiled at her. ‘Tell me, what’s been happening since I was last here?’

‘Nothing much. The Willoughbys’ dinner party, and—I almost forgot—the new doctor to take over from Dr Fleming—he had a heart attack—not a severe one but he’s got to retire.’

‘Someone decent, I hope. Local chap?’

‘Well, no, I don’t think so. I don’t know where he comes from. He’s bought Buntings—that nice old house at the other end of the village.’

‘Has he, indeed? Must have cost him a pretty penny. Married?’

‘I’ve no idea. Very likely, I should think. Most GPs are, aren’t they?’

Tony began to talk about himself then—the wheeling and dealing he had done, the money he had made, the important men of the business world he had met. Leonora listened and thought how lucky she was to be going to marry such a clever man.

They went to church the following morning and she stood beside Tony in the family pew, guiltily aware that she was glad the new doctor was there too and could see her handsome fiancé.

Dr Galbraith was handsome too, and his height and size added to that, but he was… She pondered for a moment. Perhaps it was the way he dressed, in elegant, beautifully tailored clothes, sober ties and, she had no doubt, handmade shoes—whereas Tony was very much the young man about town with his waistcoats and brightly coloured ties and striped shirts. She took a peep across the aisle and encountered the doctor’s eyes, and blushed as though she had spoken her thoughts out loud and he had heard her.

She looked away hastily and listened to the Colonel reading the lesson, with a look of rapt attention, not hearing a word, and she took care not to look at the doctor again.

It was impossible to avoid him at the end of the service; he was standing in the church porch with the Flemings, talking to the vicar, and there was no help for it but to introduce Tony to him.

‘The new GP,’ observed Tony. ‘I don’t suppose there’s much work for you around here. Wouldn’t mind your job—peace and quiet in the country and all that. You fellows don’t know when you’re lucky. I’m in the City myself…’

The doctor said drily, ‘Indeed? One of the unlucky ones? You must be glad to spend the weekend in this peaceful spot.’

Tony laughed. ‘Not even a weekend—I must go back after lunch, try and catch up with the work, you know.’

‘Ah, well, it’s a pleasant run up to town. I dare say we shall meet again when next you’re here.’ The doctor smiled pleasantly and turned away to talk to the vicar’s wife, who had joined them, and presently when he and the Flemings left the little group he did no more than nod affably at Leonora, who gave him a decidedly chilly smile.

‘A bit of a stiff neck, isn’t he?’ asked Tony as they walked back to the house. He gave his rather loud laugh. ‘I don’t need to have qualms about the two of you!’

‘If that’s a joke,’ said Leonora, ‘I don’t think it’s funny. And why do you have to go back after lunch?’

‘Darling—’ he was at his most cajoling ‘—I simply must. There’s no let-up, you know, not in my world—the business world. Keeping one step ahead is vital…’

‘Vital for what?’

‘Making money, of course. Don’t bother your pretty head; just leave it to me.’

‘Will it always be like this? I mean, after we’re married? Will you be dashing off at all hours of the day, and do we need a lot of money? Don’t you earn enough for us to get married soon?’

He gave her a quick kiss. ‘What a little worrier you are. I am that old-fashioned thing—comfortably off. We could marry tomorrow and live pleasantly, but I don’t want to be just comfortably off; I want to be rich, darling—a flat in town, decently furnished, money to go abroad when we want to, all the clothes you want to buy, dinner parties, the theatre. I want you to have the best of everything.’

‘Tony, I don’t mind about any of that. I’m not a town girl; at least, I don’t think I am. I like living in the country and I don’t care if we haven’t much money. After all, I’m used to that.’ She added thoughtfully, ‘Perhaps you’ve fallen in love with the wrong girl…’

He flung an arm around her. ‘Darling, what nonsense. The moment I set eyes on you when we met at the Willoughbys I knew you were what I was looking for.’