Eventually, Patsy hauled herself out of her chair. ‘I suppose we’d better eat something. And Georgie? Time you were in bed.’
George, possibly aware that several people had witnessed him yawning, and therefore wouldn’t be convinced by a ‘I’m not tired’ protest, looked atHugo. ‘Will you read me a bit more of that story, Uncle Hugo?’
‘Of course!’ said Hugo, getting up. ‘I’ve been dying to find out what Captain Nancy and Peggy did to Captain Flint. Come on. Race you upstairs.’
‘Hugo is George’s favourite person,’ Tim explained. ‘I do hope you don’t mind. Electra did take exception, rather. She didn’t like him paying attention to anyone but her, even when her rival was a small boy.’
‘Hugo only brought her here once,’ said Patsy. ‘Not a success. She didn’t quite understand that Timbo had inherited a house and its contents but there was very little money with it, and everything was very dilapidated. She didn’t approve of Maud sitting on her lap, either.’
‘It’s a beautiful house,’ said Lizzie, looking around her. ‘I can’t thank you enough for having me to stay. ‘
‘It’s an absolute pleasure! Lovely to have another woman about the place.’
Tim gathered up the dirty glasses on to a tray and took them away, leaving Patsy and Lizzie on their own. ‘I know you’re in a really difficult situation,’ said Patsy. ‘But Hugo is a darling man. He will look after you.’
‘I know,’ said Lizzie. ‘He’s been so kind already.’
‘And we’ll get you safely married. Then you can really get to know each other.’
‘Do you think we’ll be able to get married in the church? It’s so pretty.’
Patsy didn’t answer immediately. After a moment she said, ‘I’m sure we can arrange that. It’s unconventional and probably against the rules to marry outside your own parish, but the vicar and his wife are jolly good sorts. This house has always had a strong connection with the church. They have their fête in the garden, the estate has donated a Christmas tree every year and of course the village school is a church school and I’m a governor. I’m sure he’ll bend the rules for you and Hugo.’
Her words were reassuring but Lizzie sensed doubt.
Patsy went on. ‘Do you have any special skills that might be useful to the church?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘I used to help out with the flowers in the church at home. And I can sew. Do you think those things would make me useful?’
‘Oh my goodness, they should fall on your neck rejoicing!’ said Patsy, happier now. ‘Right! Let’s see if I’ve managed to burn the stew. More than likely!’
‘Do put some butter on your baked potato,’ Tim begged her, holding the dish out to her about half an hour later.
‘I’ve got some butter,’ said Lizzie.
‘Not enough to cover a sixpence!’ said Tim. ‘Here.’ He cut off a lump weighing several ounces and putit on Lizzie’s plate. ‘I reckon with a baked spud, you need pretty much equal quantities of butter and potato.’
‘Only if you’re a complete glutton, darling,’ said his wife. ‘Put the butter back if you don’t want it, Lizzie. Tim can be such a pig.’
They were in a dining room that had furniture in better condition. Patsy had put a cast-iron casserole on a trivet in the middle of the table and was doling out stew as if she was serving school dinners. Except, Lizzie noted, it smelt delicious.
Hugo arrived at the table late. ‘So sorry. George and I had to finish the book. It’s so good! Have I missed the starter?’ he added, looking around at people’s stew-filled plates.
‘There wasn’t one,’ said Patsy. ‘Although – like Lizzie – I was trained under the terrifying Mme Wilson, I was never good at the fiddly stuff. Now eat up, everyone.’
‘I gather Hugo has taken you to see the gamekeeper’s cottage, Lizzie,’ said Tim.
‘Yes, but he did it at night, so she wouldn’t see how primitive it really is,’ said Patsy. ‘I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or just putting off the moment when Lizzie decides she can’t live in a hovel.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘It’s not a hovel and seeing it at night, by lamplight, was very romantic. Seriously,’ she added hurriedly, in case her talking about it being romantic would reveal too much about herfeelings, ‘it’s a very nice house, and plenty big enough for two and a baby. Or even two babies,’ she added rashly, and then blushed.
‘Wait till you see it in daylight,’ said Patsy. ‘We’ll go and have a look tomorrow. See if we can make it habitable.’
‘I’d love to make some curtains for it,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’ve got a sewing machine with me.’
‘Well, I’ve got an attic full of old curtains. We’ll see if there’s any you like and could adapt.’ She paused. ‘I’m afraid there’s not much in the kitty for new fabric. We just rely on the shutters but you’ll need curtains.’
‘I think old fabric would be nicer anyway,’ said Lizzie. ‘And, if you felt it would be useful, I could adapt some for your windows? Unless you’ve banished them to the attic because you hated the material, or just hate curtains?’
