The housekeeper gently patted her hand. ‘Tha looks like tha’s been through hell, chuck.’
‘You could say that.’
‘As have many others in this dratted war, but you’re safe home now.’
‘It will surely end soon. Even France is on the road to freedom.’
‘Aye, as we all will be before too long. And don’t fret about Master Hugh being a bit sniffy. It’s no fault of yours. As well as losing his parents, his fiancée was recently killed in an air raid. He attended her funeral in London only a week or two ago.’
‘Oh, that’s dreadful! He never said a word about that.’ Was this the reason for his foul temper? ‘I was so upset to hear that Lady Stuart had died. She was such a lovely lady, and so kind to me. Do you know where she was living at the time, or where her cousin Adèle Rouanet, with whom she was sharing a home, lives?’
With a puzzled frown Mrs Harding shook her head. ‘I only know what Miss Melissa told us, that her beloved Mama died of cancer. Nowt more was said on the subject. We all knew she’d left her husband, but ‘twas none of our business why or where she’d gone.’
Brenda let out a heavy sigh, finding herself sinking into silent depression once more.
‘So how are you, chuck?’ the housekeeper asked, propping her legs up on a stool to give them a rest, since she was generally on her feet all day long.
‘I’m in a bit of a quandary right now, Mrs Harding. The fact is…’ Brenda paused, finding herself unable to speak of the anguish she was suffering at having lost her son. She’d lived in hope that those two dear ladies who had cared for them both so well, would have returned to England at some point, bringing Tommy with them. No doubt because of Camille’s tragic death, that hadn’t happened. At worst she’d expected a member of the family to at least have Adèle’s address, but Hugh claimed he didn’t even know her. ‘I’m fine,’ she said at last, giving a brave smile.
In truth, Brenda felt as if her entire life lay in ruins, and could not decide how best to deal with this dilemma. The memory of dear Tommy brought to mind that his birthday would be coming up soon when he would turn four, and she hadn’t seen him since he was but a few weeks old. She had nothing left: no husband, no son, not even a job or any income, although she fully intended to find one. She could well need money to help search for him. Once this war was finally over, and she’d retrieved him from wherever Adèle was keeping him safe, Brenda fully intended to build a new life for them both.
Putting on a brave face as she nibbled her toast, Brenda praised Mrs Harding for her delicious home-made jam. ‘I used to make this for Camille, exactly as you taught me,’ she told her. She’d learned a great deal working with the housekeeper all those years ago, and had enjoyed every moment of it, despite the hard work.
‘Thee allus were a good little worker, chuck.’
‘Hugh agreed to let me stay for only one night, so I’ll be leaving later today. But that’s fine by me. I need to find a job, and the best place to do that is in my home town of Castlefield, so the sooner I go the better.’
Mrs Harding scowled. ‘Nay, tha doesn’t have to go yet, lass. I know he created a bit of a rumpus for thee, but Carter says Master Hugh has changed his mind and agreed you can stay for a few days until you get theeself sorted. No doubt he realises you’re in sore need of a rest, or else feels a bit guilty over the way he spoke to thee. Mind, he expects you to help wi’ the chores,’ she said, giving a droll little smile.
‘Oh, I’ve no problem with that. That would be wonderful. I’m so grateful.’ Perhaps he was not quite so unfeeling as he’d sounded?
‘It’s not been an easy time for any of the family, particularly Master Hugh, despite him being in a reserved occupation as a farmer and businessman. I suspect bankruptcy is also threatening. Finding the necessary ingredients to bake enough biscuits and make a decent profit has not been easy. The company used to produce such a good selection of biscuits, including bourbons, rich tea, homewheat, chocolate, fruit shortcake, ginger nuts and many more. Not possible now, with shortages being what they are.
‘Nor did Sir Randolph approve of his son being involved in the everyday work of the factory, instructing him to concentrate upon running the estate. Such a decision did not help Master Hugh to acquire much knowledge on how to run the factory. But then, he and his pernickety father never did get on too well. Now Sir Randolph has departed this life, bless his soul, leaving his son in charge. We can but hope things will improve.’
‘I’m sure they will once this war is over,’ Brenda agreed, fascinated by Hugh’s story.
‘Don’t rush into making any decisions until tha feels more yerself, chuck. And let me know if tha feels the need to talk. I can tell there’s summat on yer mind.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Harding. I do appreciate your help. Does Prue still live here?’ Brenda asked, as she helped the housekeeper to clear away the dishes, exactly as she’d done in the days when she was employed as a scullery maid.
‘Oh, aye! Miss Prudence has her problems too, having also been widowed by this dratted war, which she’ll no doubt tell you all about. You’ll find her in the dairy, or the vegetable garden, as usual. The good lady manages to keep us well fed.’
Brenda got on with the washing up, feeling very much like a servant again, but at least talking to Mrs Harding had helped to restore her courage and confidence. Once all chores were completed, she’d fully expected to be called to the study for yet another lecture. But receiving no such order, she collected Kit the collie and went off in search of her friend.
*
Hugh was standing by his Bentley when he saw the girl come round the side of the house from the kitchen, the dog bouncing beside her. He remembered all too well the family rows that had taken place when she and Jack had got together. Their father had been appalled by the idea of Jack pairing up with a servant girl. Hugh felt a certain sympathy with that, as Sir Randolph clearly wanted the best for his eldest son. Yet as he watched her spin round to toss the stick for Kit, her face aglow with laughter, brown hair flying in the breeze, he again felt something stir within him. Was it another nudge of guilt because he hadn’t defended his brother’s decision, or something more?
Noticing him standing watching her, she stopped dead. ‘Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there. Were you wishing to speak to me again?’
‘No, I have work to do. We can speak later.’
Walking over to him, she nodded. ‘It can’t be easy being left to run everything alone. I can remember how Jack used to say how much he missed the business. He said he really enjoyed working at the factory and told me so much about it. May I come and visit it some time?’ she asked with a smile, her round cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her velvet-brown eyes lit by the sun, warm with kindness.
His throat tightened and his senses skittered. She was quite attractive and clearly resilient and strong willed, but he must not allow himself to be seduced by her charm. What did the family business have to do with her? No doubt because she wished to get her greedy little hands upon it. Pulling open the car door, he flung himself into the driving seat. ‘Certainly not. The factory is no place for a young woman.’
‘Really? Not even when the men are at war and women are fully occupied doing their jobs. Such was the case in France. The same must be happening here in England too, from what I understand.’
Glaring into her eyes, which now seemed to be twinkling with amusement, he felt a fury escalate within him. Why did this feisty little madam keep attacking him with such caustic remarks, and making constant demands? She was almost as bad as Melissa, if not half so grand. ‘Some other time,’ he growled, and drove off at speed.
*
Seeing that he was rampant with temper yet again,