Chapter 42
42
SETH TANNER. A WORLD AWAY…
Seth knew that he was a miserable sod back in the spring of 1912, too self-absorbed, nursing his miseries and putting all his energies into his job. And then his life took an unexpected turn.
One minute, he was trying to get to sleep after a long and exhausting day working in the gardens, and the next, he was having a bizarre conversation with a young girl through the brick wall – even though he was pretty sure there was no such girl in the tower with him.
For the first few days, he thought Master Howard was behind it all. The young lad had always been a handful and had plagued the poor undergardener for years, knowing that someone in his father’s employ could not bite back. Seth would find newspaper stuffed in watering can spouts, chalk on the garden seats and had his bed short-sheeted on two occasions.
But the voice wasn’t a boy, instead a young girl, so Seth wondered if Howard had put one of the maids up to it. Every night, he locked the tower door and checked all the rooms, but her scolding words still came through the brickwork. Eventually, he learned to live with them. Over time, her relentless optimism, her love of life and her stern reproaches forced Seth to reconsider his outlook on life.
His mother had long since pointed out that he wasn’t a lad for changing, but instead the loyal, quiet sort. He knew he hadn’t been put on the earth to lead and had no beef with that, but the war had proved a time for introspection. So, when he returned to Merriford, found his friend still in the tower, and they finally worked out the truth of their unusual situation, it made him reassess everything he thought he knew. And then, he fell in love, wholly and completely, with a woman he’d never technically set eyes on and could never have.
But the Seth Tanner of after the war was a very different man and he determined that he could be one for changing after all.
He arrived in Stowmarket on his afternoon off, alighting from the train and embarking on a chilly six-mile walk. Windy Acres, a house of some size, was easy to find but his courage, less so. Considering he’d charged at a trench full of Germans in the spring of 1917, it was strange how walking down the driveway of the Davenports’ house was one of the most frightening experiences of his life. Having pushed Olivia to pursue Tanner, he couldn’t back out, but, despite his bravado through the wall, he knew that actually convincing Miss Davenport to view him as a romantic prospect would be a challenge.
He rang the bell, apologised that he had no invitation, and wondered if Miss Davenport would receive him, explaining that he worked for Sir Hugo and that they had met before, if only briefly.
The maid kept him waiting a few minutes but finally directed Seth to the drawing room, where a cheery fire crackled in the hearth.
‘Good afternoon.’ He removed his cap and turned it nervously in his hands. ‘Please pardon the intrusion but my name is Seth Tanner and I?—’
‘If it’s my father you’re after, he is in London for the week.’ She got to her feet. ‘You’re one of his avid readers, no doubt? Hoping to procure his autograph or get some insight into his next book?’
‘Not at all. It’s you I’m here to see.’
‘Me?’ She looked surprised. ‘Do I know you?’
‘My name is Seth Tanner and I work for Sir Hugo Fairchild. I’m one of his gardeners.’
He stuffed the cap into his pocket and slipped his canvas bag from his shoulder.
‘Ah, I thought you looked familiar. Have you worked there long?’
‘All my working life, apart from the time I served in the war.’
She gestured to a chair, which he took as soon as she was seated. ‘Now I remember seeing you about the grounds recently and believe we spoke briefly.’
Flattered that she remembered their previous meeting, he was, however, increasingly tongue-tied as he studied her face and reconciled this Olivia with the woman he’d fallen in love with. Through a wall, the lack of eye contact had made him brave, but the reality of her world being so far removed from his was never more apparent.
‘What can I do for you, Mr Tanner?’ she asked.
His mouth went dry and his palms clammy. Her eyes flicked to his legs as he wiped his hands on his trousers.
‘I have a gift for you.’ He took the Japanese honeysuckle from his bag and handed it to her. ‘It has the most delightful vanilla fragrance.’
‘Oh, my favourite. We have something similar here at Windy Acres.’
She took it graciously but it was obvious from her expression that she didn’t understand why a member of Sir Hugo’s staff would undertake such a journey to deliver her a gift.
Seth cleared his throat. ‘The thing is, Miss Davenport, I have been an ardent admirer of yours for some time, and whilst I appreciate our very different stations in life, I’d ask that you don’t dismiss my overtures of friendship out of hand.’
‘Naturally, I am flattered by your attentions, Mr Tanner but they are rather… unexpected.’ There was a nervous flash across her face.
‘If I could appeal to anything in you, it would be your imagination – something I saw in you when you visited Merriford Manor as a child and that I hope you’ve kept hold of as an adult. Your optimism and joy for life, your determination to not let your sex stop you achieving things, your plans to travel the world and not conform to society’s expectations – all of these draw me to you. I suspect you are a woman who knows that there are things in this world that can’t be properly explained, and you are open to them. You always have been; from the time you first read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland – a book your father gave you on your fifth birthday.’
Miss Davenport’s eyes expanded as she listened to what he was saying.
‘The truth of it is, and please don’t dismiss me out of hand, that we are connected in a way I don’t rightly understand. You’ve been speaking to me in my dreams for years – and, no, I’m not drunk or mad. Perhaps you’d be so good as to confirm the following things? When you were young, you were convinced a woodland fairy lived in your wardrobe, who only ventured out when you were asleep. That you have a doll hidden in the attics because at nine, you believed it had evil powers. And, in the winter of 1910, you secretly packed a bag, intending to run away to sea.’
Her face paled as he listed the secrets his Olivia had passed on to him.
‘Are you professing to be some kind of medium?’ she asked.
‘Hardly, miss. Apart from anything, you aren’t dead.’
‘You must appreciate how unnerving it is to have a man I barely know show up at my house uninvited and talk of things that I haven’t shared with anyone? I shouldn’t have entertained you. Even though my maid is only the other side of the door, there are elements of our meeting that could easily be construed as improper.’
‘You were never one for snobbery, so I was hoping that the little girl who so enjoyed the fairy tale of a princess marrying a swineherd would treat a gardener as an equal.’
‘Again with the insights that you have no business knowing. I think I may have to ask you to leave, Mr Tanner. This is all very unsettling.’ Her face, at first anxious, quickly changed to one of sympathy. ‘Did you suffer terribly in the war? Did you find it affected your state of mind?’
‘If you think I’ve developed a neurosis from battle, then you’re wrong. The things I saw will haunt me forever, but I’ve been able to move on from them. I’m here today to ask that you get to know me. We have a special connection that I can’t explain. And whilst I understand that any personal association with me will lead to gossip, I don’t think that matters to you as much as it matters to others.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘But know that I’m here to support you, to never belittle you because of your sex, and will help you get your books published?—’
‘My books?’ She looked perplexed. ‘I’ve written no books. That is my father’s preserve and I merely edit for him.’
This was a surprise.
‘Goodness, then what are you doing with all the story ideas bursting to escape your cluttered head, miss? How are you filling your days and making your mark on the world? Have you kept up the notebook you started with your father of all the places across the world that you intend to visit?’
Her face clouded over. ‘I believe that my role as a wife and mother will give me all the fulfilment I need.’
‘Nonsense,’ he scoffed, unable to help himself. ‘That’s not the real you, Miss Davenport, and anyone who says otherwise don’t know you at all. Look, I appreciate this is all very sudden but all I ask is that you give me a bit of time. I’ve blundered in here today and taken you by surprise, but if I’ve learned anything from the war, it’s that you must seize life and wring it for every drop of joy that you can. Time may not be in our favour.’
‘Indeed, Mr Tanner, and it is my painful duty to inform you that, even if I believed your fanciful story of some mysterious connection, and wished to pursue your flattering attentions, I’m afraid you’re too late. I’m engaged to be married.’
She raised her left hand and he saw the ring at once – a thin, gold band with a flower-like setting of diamonds around a central emerald. It announced to the world that she was promised to someone else.
‘You’re quite correct. It would not have been your position in life I would have objected to. I’m not like that. My future husband was not born into great wealth and I have based my decision on his other attributes. The war has been a great leveller in many ways. Perhaps you do know me a little better than most, as my parents were certainly hesitant when I announced my intentions, but I’m marrying for love.’
Seth was too late. The Olivia Davenport of his world had fallen for another man. He’d always known it was a long shot, but the injustice of it all was frustrating. His Olivia had known that she was no snob.
It was with a heavy heart that he caught the Stowmarket train back to Merriford Lode, and watched the flat, East Anglian landscape scamper past his third-class window. What would he tell Olivia through the wall? All he could do was console himself with the knowledge that at least Miss Davenport had a bright future ahead of her.
* * *
Seth was late retiring that night and found small tasks to keep him from the tower. He stood for a long time in the kitchen gardens, smoking a cigarette and contemplating life without either Olivia. He suspected that he’d rally, because it was now in his nature to do so, but it would take a while. There would be some pleasant girl from the village, or a young war widow, who would make him a good wife and support his endeavours. Men were, after all, in demand since the culling of his generation.
Olivia must have been listening for him because, even though he undressed and washed silently, the springs gave him away as soon as he lumped on the bed.
‘How did it go? What did I say? Do you think you stand a chance?’ Her voice was eager but anxious. Sweet, sweet Olivia of the hazel eyes and earnest stare. He could almost picture her in the room beside him – more so because he’d been in her company that afternoon and absorbed every detail of her face and her figure – from her wavy curls down to her delicate ankles.
But Seth couldn’t bring himself to lie and hoped that his news would be taken well. Miss Davenport might not end up with him but she was happy. Her excitement over the upcoming wedding had been plain to see. She’d insisted that he stayed for a late-afternoon tea, probably to offset her guilt at having disappointed the young man, and ordered her maid to bring them some sandwiches.
‘She was definitely confused by my visit, but polite and friendly. Her life seems settled and she’s content. Jasper Davenport is a worldwide success and I understand that your parents are in good health, even though they were both in London, visiting his publisher, when I called, so I didn’t get to see them.’
‘But?’ She knew him too well. He swallowed hard.
‘She is engaged to be married.’ He gabbled on, not allowing her a chance to offer sympathy. ‘And you were right; it’s not with a man of high rank or exceptional wealth. In fact, I could hardly believe it myself, because it’s someone we both know – an ordinary man from Merriford Lode, although admittedly, he’s done quite well for himself since the war. Someone you first met at the manor, when your father visited Sir Hugo back in 1914… By the spring, Miss Olivia Davenport will be Mrs Ernest Dunn.’