Mistaking her involuntary shiver for excitement, Matthew murmured in her ear, ‘Oh, Esther, you’re lovely. I want you so. Please say yes!’

‘All right then,’ she said at last, ‘if you’re sure . . .’

‘Do you mean it?’ His eagerness was almost pathetic.

‘Yes, course I mean it. I’ll marry you, Matthew.’

His eyes were afire, and his arms were about her again, hugging her, longing to love her. ‘When?’

She smiled up at him. ‘As soon as you like,’ she whispered huskily, clamping down hard on any feelings of guilt. It wasn’t just to get the tenancy of the farm, she persuaded herself, she really did like him.

She put her arms about him in genuine gratitude and kissed him.

He groaned as he returned her kiss ardently. ‘Esther, oh, Esther!’

It wasn’t until a lot later that Esther remembered with a little stab of shame that neither of them had spared a thought for Beth.

Mid-morning about three weeks later found Esther dressed in her blue cotton dress and Matthew, stiff and awkward in his Sunday best suit, walking down the lane towards the Grange. They walked side by side in silence, companionable yet not touching.

The grim-faced butler opened the door once more and ushered them reluctantly into his master’s study.

‘Well, well, Miss Everatt, and to what do I owe this pleasure, my dear?’ the squire greeted them.

They stood before him.

‘’Tain’t Miss Everatt now, Mr Marshall, ’tis Mrs Hilton. We were married by special licence at half past eight this morning at the church.’ Esther’s look challenged the squire boldly. ‘Mr Marshall, this is my husband.’

Thirteen

THERE was silence in the squires study, broken ly by the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Mr Marshall recovered his senses, stood up and came around the desk holding out his hand to Matthew. ‘Well, well, my boy. Congratulations indeed!’

He turned to Esther and held out both hands to her. ‘My best wishes for your happiness, my dear. I’m not a man to go back on his promise, dear me no.’ He beamed at them both. ‘You’ve got yourself a farm.’

Esther glanced at Matthew but he was staring at the squire, his mouth slightly open.

‘This calls for a celebration.’ Mr Marshall went to the side of the fireplace and pulled a red silk cord. When the door opened and the butler glided into the room, he ordered a bottle of Madeira and three glasses. ‘My wife would join us, I’m sure, but I believe she has taken the carriage into the town.’ He smiled again at them both, his glance flitting from one to the other.