A few years ago, an offer like this from Noah Wells would have been more than she had ever dared hoped for. From the moment she turned twelve years old and started to sprout taller than her brothers and most of the boys at the village school, it had been made clear to her that she would struggle to attract a husband.

‘What man would want a great gangly weed like you?’ her mother would say. ‘You’re all arms and legs, girl, and clumsy with it. You’d break every pot in his house before a week was out.’

As time went on, it seemed as if her mother was right. Gradually the local boys all started to pair up with girls, and the pretty, petite ones like Jessie and Beth went first. Then it was the turn of the girls whose fathers were landowners, and who had no brothers.

Grace took the rejection in good part. She went to all the village weddings, watching as one by one her friends found husbands. After everything she had been told, it simply never occurred to her that she might deserve one too.

Had Noah Wells come along then, with his acres of land and his farmhouse with indoor plumbing, she would have considered herself very fortunate indeed.

But since then she had lived in London and met all the other girls. She had seen them flirt and fall in love. She had seen them giddy with romance; heartbroken when it all ended. From what she could tell, being in love was like being on a carousel at the fairground, going round and round, up and down, caught up in a whirlwind of the most wonderful, exciting highs and lows.

And she dearly wished she could feel some of that heady excitement herself.

Of course, the sensible side of her knew she was being silly, that she might as well wish for the moon. No man had ever shown any interest in her. No young medical student had ever flirted with her, let alone courted her.

No, if she was going to get married then Noah Wells was her best chance.

But then Grace thought about Anna, and how excited she was at the prospect of her wedding. She was so consumed with love, all she could think about was getting married to the man she adored.

Grace could never imagine feeling like that about Noah Wells.

But there was something else to consider besides herself. As her mother had explained, the farm was in trouble and she knew her family was relying on her to help them. This marriage to Noah Wells would solve all their problems.

A steady, sensible sort, Noah had called her. It was hardly the kind of compliment to get a young girl’s heart racing. But it was probably the best Grace Duffield was ever going to get.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Grace put her own concerns determinedly to one side as she walked on to Wilson ward.

Sylvia Saunders and Mary Finnegan had already served the bedtime drinks and got the patients settled, and were in the middle of the medications round when she arrived, so she reported to Sister to see if there was anything else to be done.