A Midwinter's Tale

by LarkRiser

Abigail Midwinter, daughter of Sir Timothy and the late Lady Adelaide, falls in love with Sydney Dowland, the new Postmaster of Candleford, and has to work hard to get him to see her as a young woman and not as the child she once was.

This story is a sequel to my first one: "Dorcas and Timothy" which I hope you will read first before beginning this one.

A MIDWINTER'S TALE

By

Sherry Ledenbach

Chapter 1

On his eighteenth birthday, Sydney Dowland received the greatest gift he could ever imagine: a Post Office.

His mother, Lady Dorcas Midwinter, who had adopted him when he was just a boy, had tears in her eyes as she kissed his cheek and smiled proudly at him before giving him the keys to the Candleford Post and Telegraph Office.

"Happy birthday, Sydney," she said softly as she gently placed the keys in his hand. Then she half laughed and half sobbed as she held his face and marvelled at the tall, handsome, broad-shouldered young man he had become. "I'm afraid I can no longer call you my Little Man anymore now, can I?"

Sydney hugged her tight and felt tears stinging his eyes as he laughed and shook his head at her. "You can call me whatever you like, Ma."

He looked down at the keys in his hand and then back at his mother's face. "Ma, are you sure you're ready to give up the Post Office? Really sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, darling. It's time for Sir Timothy and me to start our new life at the manor and besides, we are quite excited to finally have a real honeymoon on the Continent even if it is seven years late!" Dorcas's eyes sparkled and shone at the thought of a long honeymoon with the man she loved so deeply, and Timothy was just as eager.

"You needn't worry, Sydney," Timothy said to the young man with a wink. "I'll be keeping your mother far too busy to miss the Post Office!"

"Timothy!" Dorcas exclaimed, her cheeks blushing a bright red. "What a thing to say in front of the children!"

Timothy laughed and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. Then he reached out and shook Sydney's hand. "Happy birthday, Sydney. I know you will do this Post Office and your mother proud as its new Postmaster."

"Thank you, Sir Timothy," Sydney replied with a smile. Then he received congratulations from all the folks of Candleford and Lark Rise who had come to his birthday celebration.

Laura Timmins Armstrong laughed as she hugged him. "Happy birthday, Sydney! I can't believe how big you've grown! You look more and more like your father every day."

"Thank you, Laura. Are you sure you don't want to come back and work for me?" Sydney teased her.

"What, with three boys to be running after? I only wish I had the time!" Laura exclaimed as she looked fondly over at her handsome husband, Doctor Richard Armstrong, who had their three sons trying to wrestle him to the ground.

Minnie and Alf Arliss also congratulated him as did Thomas and Margaret Brown. Thomas would remain as Sydney's postman even though he was very much going to miss seeing Dorcas standing behind the counter. "Happy birthday, Sydney…or, I should say Mr Dowland now, seein' as you're my new boss," Thomas said rather formally.

"Thank you, Thomas, but please, just call me Sydney. It would feel strange to have you call me Mr Dowland after all these years!"

"Oh, I'm afraid that wouldn't be proper, sir." Thomas looked rather aghast. "I think I'd better address you as Mr Dowland from now on."

"Whatever makes you more comfortable, Thomas," Sydney replied, nodding his understanding and feeling quite strange to be addressed as 'Mister'.

After speaking to everyone, even his little brother Ben, the son Dorcas had had with Sir Timothy, came up and gave him a hug and then squealed with laughter as Sydney picked him up and flung him over his shoulder before hanging him upside down by his ankles. The only person who didn't come up to wish him a happy birthday was Abigail Midwinter, who hung back and refused to look at him. Abby was Sir Timothy's daughter from his first wife, Lady Adelaide, who had died in a subsequent childbirth when Abby was just two years old. Sydney had been Abby's first friend when Timothy brought her back to Candleford, and despite the fact that she was eight years younger than Sydney, her devotion to him had never wavered. He was the one person she loved most in this world and now she was to move away from the Post Office and her precious 'Siddy'.

Sydney walked up to her and reached for her hand. "What's wrong, Abby? Why won't you even look at me?" His heart twisted as she finally did look up at him and he could see that she had been crying.

"Come on," he said, pulling her away from the crowd and walking her to a quieter place where he sat her down and then sat beside her. "Now, tell me what is wrong, Abbs," he said gently, calling her by his nickname for her.

Abby sniffed and looked down at her shoes. Sydney put his arm around her little shoulders and hugged her to him. "Come now, Abbs, you can tell me anything, you know that. Something's got you upset and I want to know what it is."

Finally, Abby took a deep breath and gave another loud sniff before saying, "I don't want to move away from the Post Office. I don't want to live at the manor. Why can't we stay here with you?"

Sydney gave her another squeeze. "I don't want you to move away either, Abby. I'm going to miss you something fierce! But I'm a man now and it's time I lived on my own. And it's only right that your papa, being the Squire and all, should live at the manor now rather than a Post Office. You're going to have such a good life there, Abbs, I promise you. You will have a bedroom that's twice as big as the one you have now, and your own horse, too! Besides, you'll have Ben to play with and keep you company as well as all your friends. You'll be too busy to miss me."

Abby sniffed loudly again and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand before Sydney handed her his handkerchief. "I don't want a bigger room and I don't care about a horse. I just want to stay here with you!"

"I'm so sorry, Abby, darling. Please don't cry. You can come and visit me any time that you like—in fact, I insist that you do! Besides, I'm going to need lots of help running this Post Office and I am counting on you to help me. I was the same age you are now when I started helping Ma at the Post Office."

Abby's face began to brighten. "Oh, Siddy, do you mean it? Can I come to the Post Office to work with you?"

"Of course I mean it, silly! As long as it's okay with Ma and your papa then it's okay with me. After you finish your school day, of course," he added like a stern parent.

Abby suddenly flung herself into his arms. "Thank you, thank you!"

Sydney laughed. "Now can I get a happy birthday wish from my favourite girl?"

Abby gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Siddy!" she said happily.

Sydney gave her a big hug. "Thank you, Abbs." Then he walked her back to the party.

After the party had ended and Timothy, Dorcas, Abby and Ben made their way to live in Candleford manor, Sydney closed the door behind him and leaned against it, smiling as he looked around at his beloved Post Office. He was eager to begin a life as his own man…and even more so as the new Postmaster of Candleford.

Dorcas was quiet on the way to the manor. Timothy took her hand and kissed it. "Are you all right, my darling?" he asked gently.

"Yes, dear, I'm fine," she said, blinking away a tear before he could see it. "I was just thinking of when Sydney first came to me and how sad and frightened he was. He's come such a long way, Timothy. I can hardly believe he's grown up already!"

Timothy nodded. "He's come a long way because of you, Dorcas. He was the luckiest boy in the world to have landed on your doorstep."

Dorcas squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Timothy. But Sydney always was an extraordinary boy. I'm sure he would have found a way to flourish on his own."

"I'm not so sure about that," Timothy replied. "He had a lot to overcome with his mother dying and leaving him in that dreadful school at such a young age. And then being thrust upon a father he never even knew existed. No, I think only the love and patience of one such as you could have saved him."

Dorcas, feeling more tears begin to gather again, looked away towards the window of the carriage. "Well, we sort of saved each other during that time."

Timothy put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. "I know it's hard to be giving up your Post Office and the home you grew up in, too, darling. I hope you're not having any regrets."

Dorcas turned back to Timothy and touched his cheek reassuringly. "Oh, no, Timothy, not at all. My home is wherever you and our children are. I know my Post Office will be well taken care of by the one person who loves it just as much as I do. It is a joy to know that I've been able to provide Sydney with a secure living and a home of his own. And I'm so happy to be free now to spend every waking moment with you and the children. So, no, no regrets whatsoever, I promise you."

Timothy kissed her again. "Good, I'm very glad to hear that because you and I have a wonderful life ahead of us!"

Dorcas gave him a genuinely happy smile and her eyes began to sparkle. "Yes, we do…beginning with that much overdue honeymoon!"

Timothy laughed and then whispered in her ear, "I only hope they have really large bathtubs on the Continent!"

Dorcas could barely stifle her own laughter as she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "So do I," she whispered back.

Abby stood in the centre of her new bedroom and looked around with a sigh. The room was more than twice as big as her old bedroom at the Post Office and her step-mother had gone to great lengths to make it as bright and cheerful for her as possible. But nothing could make the room as warm and cosy as her old bedroom. The ancient manor was made of cold stone and drafty corridors and Abby found the portraits of her ancestors that lined its walls to be a stern and forbidding lot that rather frightened her. She didn't care that the manor had been the home of generations of Midwinters, she simply didn't like it and she hated being separated from Sydney. How could it be home without him?

She started when she heard a soft tap at her door. "Come in," she said.

Dorcas came into the room and stood beside her. "Well, Abigail, what do you think of your new room?"

Abby didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "It's lovely, Ma."

Dorcas studied Abby's face for a moment then put her arm around her. "It's always hard to move away from what we are familiar with, but in time you will come to love this place as much as our old home."

Abby nodded her head, but before she could stop herself a small sob escaped her and she burst into tears.

"Oh, darling, what's wrong?" Dorcas asked with concern. She hugged the child close to her and stroked her hair.

"I..I..don't want to live here, Ma. I don't like it. Please, can't we go back and stay with Syd?"

Dorcas thought for a moment and then led Abby to her bed where she sat down beside her. "Abby, is it really the manor you don't like or is it being away from Sydney?"

When Abby didn't reply Dorcas put her arm around her and pulled her close again. "I'm going to miss him, too, Abby. We all are. But it's not like he's on another planet, darling. He's just down the road and we can see him whenever we like."

"It's not the same thing," Abby said sadly.

"No, I suppose it isn't. But that is the way of life—it is constantly changing and we must do our best to embrace those changes and make the most of them. Change isn't necessarily a bad thing, Abby. Sometimes it brings us the most unexpectedly wonderful things!"

Abby suddenly looked hopefully up at her mother. "Ma, Syd said he was going to need lots of help and that I could work with him at the Post Office after school. Can I, Ma?"

Dorcas couldn't help but smile. "Well, I'll have to talk it over with your papa first, but I don't see why not. But, Abby, you must remember that Sydney will be a very busy man now and you mustn't get in his way. You will be there only to help him—he won't have time to play with you like he used to."

"I know, Ma. I won't get in his way, I promise!"

Timothy had no objections to Abby helping Sydney at the Post Office as long as she finished her schoolwork. In fact, he began to chuckle when Dorcas brought it up to him. "What is it about that Post Office that we Midwinters are powerless to resist?" he said teasingly as he pulled her into an embrace.

Dorcas rolled her eyes at him and laughed. "Well, I think it will help Abigail adjust to her new home away from Sydney if she knows she can still spend time with him at the Post Office. I'm sure in time she will grow out of her childhood attachment to him as she makes new friends and has new experiences."

Timothy nodded his head in agreement. "She's young and children have a remarkable capacity for change. Don't worry, Dorcas, she'll be fine."

Dorcas rested her head against his chest. "Yes, I'm sure she will be."

One day Abby came home from helping Sydney at the Post Office and Dorcas enlisted her help in baking a special cake for Sunday's church picnic. As they worked together Abby seemed unusually quiet until Dorcas finally asked her if she was feeling all right.

"I'm fine, Ma," she replied, but then she sighed. "Ma, is it true that daughters are of little consequence to their fathers? That they only care about their sons?"

Dorcas looked at her with a frown. "That is certainly not true! Where on earth did you hear such a thing, Abigail?"

"I heard Miss Pearl say that to Mrs Watson after Mrs Watson told her that Mrs Pennington had a baby and her husband wasn't happy it was a girl."

"Oh, Abigail, you mustn't take to heart anything that Pearl Pratt says. It is true that some men hope to have a son to carry on the family name and to pass their property to after they die so it can be kept in the family, but that doesn't mean that fathers don't love their daughters. My father and I were the best of friends! And your father loves you just as much."

"But not as much as Ben," Abby said sadly.

Dorcas put her arm around her. "Of course he does, darling! Why would you say such a thing?"

"Well, he takes Ben riding with him all the time and he never asks me even though he knows I love to go riding, too. He's always playing with him and laughing with him and he barely says anything to me. I guess I'm one of those daughters who are of little consequence."

Dorcas hugged Abby to her and kissed the top of her head. "Oh, Abigail, that is not true in the least. Your father loves you very much. I know he does."

But in the days that followed, Dorcas paid close attention to the way Timothy interacted with both of his children, and to her disbelief she noticed that Timothy did seem more outwardly affectionate with Benjamin whilst treating Abby with what appeared to be polite indifference.

"Timothy, may I have a word with you, please?" Dorcas said to him after he came in from a ride with their son.

"Of course, darling, is something wrong?" He looked at her with concern when he saw the look on her face. She led him into his office and shut the door behind her.

"Timothy, the other day Abigail overheard Pearl Pratt saying that daughters were of little consequence to their fathers, so she asked me if that was why you loved Benjamin more than her."

"What?" Timothy exclaimed.

"I, of course, reassured Abigail that that wasn't true and that of course you loved her as much as Benjamin. But, Timothy, the past few days I've been watching you and I think Abigail might have reason to believe you indifferent to her."

Timothy looked stunned and hurt. "Dorcas, how could you even say that to me?"

"I heard you dismiss her earlier when she asked to go riding with you, saying you had too much work to do, and here you are coming in from riding with Benjamin. And I noticed that whenever she attempts to talk with you you will barely even look at her. Why is that, Timothy? Can you explain to me why your daughter is feeling neglected by her own father?"

"Dorcas, I am not neglecting my daughter! It is true that I do spend more time with Benjamin. He is going to take my place someday and he needs to understand the land and the duties of a squire."

"I realise that for a man in your position a son is very important to you. But you have another child, too, Timothy, and she needs to know that her father loves her just as much as Benjamin does."

"I do love my daughter, Dorcas!" Timothy said with indignation.

"Then why don't you spend more time with her? Why do you always brush her aside? I've seen her watching you and Benjamin play together and the wistful look I see on her face just breaks my heart."

Timothy looked down at his hands and was silent.

Dorcas continued, "I was my father's only child and he never once made me feel like I was anything less to him because I wasn't a boy. We had a wonderful, loving relationship—so many good times and memories together. You can have that with Abigail, too."

"It's not because she's a girl!" Timothy cried, hurt that Dorcas would even think such a thing. "You of all people should know that, Dorcas! The best part of my childhood and of my adult life has been spent with you—a girl! I have nothing against girl children."

"Then why are you avoiding her, Timothy? Why don't you embrace her the way you embrace Benjamin?"

"Because!" Timothy burst out, then began to pace around the room. "Because, when I look at Benjamin I see you, Dorcas! I see your eyes looking back at me and all I feel is joy. When I look at Abigail I…I think of Adelaide and all the pain I felt during those years away from you… and I remember, too, the pain I saw in your face the day you found out Adelaide was with child. Everything ended between us then. I had hoped, before that happened, that we…that you and I…" He faltered, realising how awful it sounded put into words, and looked helplessly at her.

Dorcas shook her head at him in disbelief. "All this time you've been blaming that poor child because of our past mistakes? Because she was Adelaide's child and not mine? Do you know what I see when I look at Abigail? I see you, Timothy. I see your eyes looking back at me and that gives me joy. She's so much like you…your daughter, your child…and you don't even see it."

"Dorcas, please…" Timothy pleaded with her, but she had already turned and was walking towards the door. Before she left the room she looked back at him with sadness in her eyes. "I never thought the day would come when I would feel shame for you, Timothy."

Timothy slumped back in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Dorcas's words had shaken him to the core and shame flooded through him as he realised she was right. "Oh, God, what have I done?" he cried as tears began to roll down his cheeks. To think his own child felt unloved because he couldn't face his own past mistakes was simply unforgivable. He did love Abigail, of course he loved her, it was himself that he hated and the choices he had made in the past. Abigail and even Adelaide were no more to blame for that than the moon. How could he have been so selfish? He decided then and there that if it took the rest of his life he was going to make it up to his little girl.

Timothy found Abby down at the stables feeding apples to one of the horses. "Hello, Abigail," he greeted her with a smile.

Abby smiled tentatively back at him. "Hello, Papa."

"Making friends with the new horse, I see." Timothy stood beside her and patted the horse's neck. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Abby nodded then giggled when the horse began to nuzzle her. "I think she likes me."

Timothy laughed. "I think she likes you, too. I think it's time you had your own horse, Abigail. What do you think?"

Abby's eyes lit up. "Oh, Papa, can I?"

"Of course you can! How would you like to have this one?"

Abby stared at him in disbelief for a moment. "Really? Oh, Papa, I would love it!" Then she hugged the horse around its neck. "Did you hear that? You're mine now, all mine!"

"I hope the horse isn't going to get all of your hugs," Timothy said to her, pretending to pout.

Abby then ran to him and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Papa, I love her!"

Timothy hugged her back. "You're welcome, darling. I hope you will have many happy times with her."

"Papa, can I ride her now?"

"I don't see why not. Go change your clothes and I'll get her saddled up for you."

Abby ran off a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, twisting her hands together as she asked rather hesitantly, "Papa, will you go riding with me?"

Timothy felt like crying when he saw how she was steeling herself for rejection. He walked quickly over to her and gathered her into his arms. "There is nothing I would love better than to go riding with you, Abigail. I know I haven't been spending enough time with you lately and I am so very sorry. Your papa loves you very, very much, darling, don't you ever doubt that."

"I love you too, Papa," she said softly. He gave her an extra squeeze then kissed the top of her head. "Hurry and change now…adventure awaits!"

Abby giggled and ran as fast as she could to get changed and by the time she got back her father had readied her horse as well as his own. He gave her a boost up, adjusted the stirrups for her and then mounted his own horse.

Timothy took her to all of his favourite spots on the estate, ending with a rest at the stump of what was once the grand old oak tree where he and Dorcas had fallen in love so many years ago. As they sat side-by-side, Timothy took his daughter's hand in his own and looked at her—really looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. Dorcas was right, Abby did have his eyes and his nose and even his smile. She was growing quickly, too, and whilst it looked like she would inherit her mother's tall, slim build, she was otherwise all Midwinter. Timothy smiled down at her and then began to laugh. "Do you know you look just like my mother? I never realised it until now, but you are the spitting image of her."

"I am?" Abby replied, looking pleased.

"Yes, you and I both have her eyes only you wear them much better than I do!"

Abby giggled.

"Oh, how I wish my mother, your grandmother, was still alive so she could have known you, Abigail. She would have loved you so much!"

"Really, Papa?"

"Yes, really, darling. She wanted a girl of her own so badly, but she got stuck with three rambunctious boys instead. By the time her third boy child was born, your Uncle Charles, she was so disappointed he wasn't a girl that she kept him wearing frocks until he was five years old!"

They both laughed at the thought. "Poor Uncle Charles!" Abby exclaimed.

"Yes, we teased him mercilessly about it for the rest of his life." Timothy laughed again. "I don't think he ever forgave Mother."

He looked at her again and smiled. "Would you like to see your grandmother's portrait? Then you can see for yourself how much you look like her."

"Oh, yes, please, Papa!"

"Come on, then, let's get ourselves home and I'll show you."

Dorcas, meanwhile, had been pacing about the manor and feeling awful about the way she had spoken to Timothy. She blinked away tears as she remembered the terrible pain in his eyes as she practically accused him of not loving his own daughter. She regretted her words the moment she left the room, knowing she had unfairly judged him. Of course he loved his own daughter. He was a wonderful father, but he was also human and she of all people understood the pain he had endured in the past, having endured it all herself. She had been too harsh with him and she wished he would come home so she could apologise to him.

Just then she heard voices outside and as she looked out the window she saw Timothy with his arm around Abby as he regaled her with another story that had them both laughing out loud. Dorcas's eyes filled with tears as she witnessed a daughter restored to her father.

"Timothy," Dorcas said softly as he and Abby came into the manor. Her eyes were apologetic as she reached out and touched his arm. He smiled at her and patted her hand.

"Hello, darling. I was just about to show Abigail her grandmother's portrait. Won't you come with us?"

"I would love to!" She smiled happily at them both.

Timothy led them up the stairs and down a long hallway where he stopped at one of the closed doors. "This was your grandmother's room," he said to Abby. He opened the door and Abby saw a bright, beautifully decorated room that basked in the late afternoon sunlight. Everything had been kept exactly as it was when her grandmother was still alive. Abby's hand trailed along the dressing table where her grandmother's comb and brush still lay and then she looked up and saw her own likeness staring down at her. The portrait of her grandmother had been painted when she was first married at the age of eighteen. She was beautiful with deep brown eyes and raven hair, and porcelain white skin that seemed to glow with life. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and great fondness as though the object of her love was standing within her sights.

Abby gazed up at her grandmother's portrait and smiled. The manor no longer felt so gloomy. She had found a friend upon its walls.

Within the next two weeks things were in a flurry at the manor as Timothy and Dorcas prepared for their two-month long much delayed honeymoon on the Continent. An assortment of trunks and baggage were brought down from the attics and Dorcas agonised over what to pack. Since it was the beginning of summer she thought she would pack light, summery clothes, but then was sure if she did it would end up being colder than expected.

"Why not pack for both contingencies?" Timothy said reasonably. "After all, we have enough trunks for five people!"

Dorcas smiled sheepishly at him. "Perhaps I'd better. I just hate to be unprepared—it is my one weakness!"

Timothy chuckled as he shook his head at her. "We're going to have to hire a crew just to haul all this luggage around for us!"

Ben came into the room and climbed on his mother's lap. "Mother, why can't I go with you and Father? I don't want you to leave!"

Dorcas bent down and hugged him to her. "I know, darling, but this is a special trip just for your father and me. I promise you that the next time we go somewhere we will bring you and your sister with us."

Ben began to cry.

"Oh, Benjamin, don't cry, my little one. We'll be home before you even have time to miss us! Nanny will be here to take care of you and Sydney has all kinds of adventures planned for you and Abigail."

When Ben continued to cry Dorcas looked helplessly at Timothy who then came over and picked his son up and carried him out into the hallway. "Come, Benjamin, I have a mission for you and your sister to complete whilst your mother and I are away. It's a family secret so you mustn't tell anyone!"

Ben's sobs began to lessen as his curiosity and sense of adventure got the best of him. They found Abby in her room and Timothy tossed Ben onto her bed before kneeling down before them both and looking as though he were about to tell them something of the greatest importance.

"What is it, Papa?" Abby asked.

"Well now, Abigail, I have a little secret to tell you and Benjamin. As you know, this house is very, very old. It was built nearly four hundred years ago. It has witnessed many wars and during such times it harboured lords and bishops and even a king! Now, because it was built during such turbulent times there were several secret passageways hidden within its walls. My grandfather told my father that he and his brothers only found two of them, but there were at least two more—one of which supposedly had treasure hidden inside! My father and his brothers and sisters were never able to find them and neither could your uncles or I. Also, there was a rumour of an entire room hidden away somewhere in this great house. I think it had to do with an old family scandal or something, but that might have been just a family tale. In any case, their whereabouts remain a mystery and it is now your turn to help us find them! Would you like to take on this challenge whilst your mother and I are away?"

They both nodded enthusiastically, their eyes shining with excitement. "I'm going to find the treasure!" Ben shrieked happily and began to run for the door.

Timothy caught him by the back of his shirt and hauled him back. "Not so fast, son. You are not to start looking for them until after your mother and I have left for our trip tomorrow. And, children, should you find a secret passageway, you are not to go in alone and you are not to go in unless you have an adult with you. It could be very dangerous and I do not want one of my children trapped forever inside this house where no one knows where to find you. Understood?"

The children nodded their heads solemnly. "Papa, can we tell Sydney? He is part of the family, after all," asked Abby.

Timothy nodded. "Yes, you may tell Sydney. Now come kiss your mother goodbye before you go to bed. We will be leaving before you wake up in the morning."

It was a tearful goodbye on both sides, but the children now had something exciting to think about to keep their minds off their sadness. Secret passageways and hidden treasure! What more could a child ask for?

It wasn't long before the children found the first two passageways that were already known to their father. As promised, they found Nanny or the butler before they went inside. Timothy had left notes in both passageways telling them how clever they were with a shiny, new half-guinea for each of them. But try as they might, they could not find the other long-missing passageways or the supposed hidden room. They even enlisted Sydney's help when he came to keep them company during the evenings and Sundays, but he was left just as baffled as they were. They measured the thickness of the walls, knocked on all the paneling and the backs of closets and cupboards, peered behind tapestries and paintings and looked for loose floorboards, but no hidden portals could be found.

Abby enjoyed the search much more when Sydney was there. He was just as enthusiastic about solving the mystery as they were and as a result spent more time with them than he originally planned. It was like having him home again and the house felt empty after he left them each night. Part of Abby hoped they would never solve mystery of the manor if it meant that Sydney would keep coming back to help them solve it.

Then, before they knew it, eight weeks had passed and their parents finally came home from their honeymoon weighed down with all kinds of exotic gifts for the children and Sydney. It was a joyful reunion and they stayed up late into the night catching up on all that had happened whilst they were away. Both Timothy's and Dorcas's eyes shone with the memories they had made during their time together, but they were glad to get home to their children. They had missed them terribly.

For now, the secret passageways would remain hidden, but the children never gave up looking for them.

Chapter 2

Despite Dorcas's prediction, Abby's childhood attachment to Sydney never waned as she grew older, and by the time she was thirteen years old her attachment to him had grown into a very girlish crush. Every day, after her lessons ended, she would run down to the Post Office and help Sydney behind the counter, or deliver a package for him, or make him his tea. Nothing made her happier than to help him in any way that she could. He paid her a shilling a week, but she would have done it for nothing.

Sydney had no idea that her feelings had turned in such a direction; he could only see her affections as that of a devoted little sister. Every smile, every pat on the head, every bit of praise he bestowed on her was carefully tucked away in her heart to be brought out and savoured each night before she fell asleep. Had Sydney been aware of her feelings he would have been much more mindful of his actions.

It was about this time that Abby discovered the books of Jane Austen as well as Charlotte Bronte and Elizabeth Gaskell, with her favourites being 'Pride and Prejudice,' 'Emma,' 'Persuasion,' 'Jane Eyre' and 'North and South.' She would spend many a happy afternoon daydreaming that Sydney was Mr Darcy, Mr Knightley, Captain Wentworth, Mr Rochester, or Mr Thornton, depending on which novel she was reading at the time. She knew she was far too young for him at the moment, but she only had a few years to go until she was of marrying age. Her one fear was that Sydney, who was now twenty-one years old, would fall in love and marry someone else before she had time to grow up herself. After all, he had grown into a very handsome young man, being tall and broad shouldered, which gave him an air of maturity beyond his years. His once blond hair had darkened as he grew older, making his pale blue eyes seem brighter somehow. And when he smiled it revealed two perfect dimples that were simply irresistible to any woman who saw them. Up until now, to her relief, he seemed too preoccupied with running his Post Office and the forge next door to take much notice of the eligible young ladies of Candleford, who frequented the Post Office more and more often, hoping to catch the attention of the handsome young Postmaster. Abby despaired of them all. She saw each simpering young woman as the competition, trying to snatch away her Siddy. Well, they wouldn't get him without a fight.

But one day the inevitable happened and Abby's lovely, daydreamy world was brought back to reality with a jolt. A new family moved into Candleford by the name of Montgomery and their eldest daughter Rachel was soon the talk of the town as being a great beauty. It wasn't long before Rachel made her way into the Post Office and, upon first sight, Sydney was completely smitten.

Abby watched them with a sinking heart. Rachel was tall and graceful and, judging by the elegant clothes she was wearing, came from money. She had bright green eyes and rich, chestnut coloured hair that was swept up in thick swirls upon her head. The rumours about her were right—she was simply stunning.

Abby had never seen Sydney so animated before and when he flashed his dimples and took the young woman's hand in greeting, she could see that Rachel was just as taken with him as he was with her. In those brief few moments of their meeting, Abby realised Sydney would never wait for her when such a beauty could be his right now.

She turned away sadly, and at the tender age of thirteen she experienced her first heartbreak.

---

It was difficult to be at the Post Office when Rachel kept coming in to chat with Sydney. Abby couldn't forget Sydney's expression, though, when he first introduced her to Rachel.

"Sir Timothy's daughter?" Rachel had exclaimed, looking at Abby as though she couldn't believe her eyes. "Why would a squire allow his daughter to spend so much time in a Post Office?"

A brief look of annoyance had crossed Sydney's face and Abby felt indignation on his behalf for such a slight to his beloved Post Office. She hoped it would mean the end of his infatuation with the woman.

"I am Abigail's adopted brother," Sydney explained patiently. "She has been helping me here out of the kindness of her heart."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and smiled a little too broadly. "Well, isn't that sweet? She must be very devoted to you."

Sydney looked fondly down at Abby. "Yes, I don't know what I would do without her."

Abby smiled beatifically at Rachel as she took Sydney's arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Well, you will never be without me, Syd. I will always be here whenever you need me."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Abby, but then quickly turned her attention back to Sydney where she was all smiles once again. "Might I have a word alone with you, please, Mr Dowland?" She had stressed the work 'alone.'

"Of course!" Sydney smiled back at her. Then he patted Abby's arm, which was still linked in his, and said, "Thank you, Abby, I don't have anything else for you to do today. I believe Annie is over at the Miss Pratts' if you want to say hello to her."

"All right," Abby replied, reluctantly separating her arm from his. "I'll see you tomorrow, Syd! Goodbye, Miss Montgomery."

"Goodbye, Abigail." Rachel gave her a parting smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Abby was only too happy to leave and find Annie so she could vent her feelings.

Annie Timmins was Laura Armstrong's youngest sister. She was a little over a year older than Abby and therefore seemed much wiser. Abby adored her. Annie was a calm and quiet little soul who was happiest with her needlework in hand. She had been sewing since she was a little girl and had become quite the gifted seamstress. Pearl and Ruby Pratt were so impressed with her work that they agreed to take her on as an apprentice in their shop. Abby thought of her as Jane to her Elizabeth.

"Good afternoon, Miss Pearl, Miss Ruby," Abby greeted the sisters. "May I speak with Annie, please?"

"Good afternoon, Abigail." The sisters smiled at her. "Annie is in the back room."

Since Abby was Sir Timothy's daughter, Pearl and Ruby allowed Abby to visit occasionally with their young apprentice. They knew Annie would continue to work just as hard even whilst chatting with her friend.

"Abby!" Annie greeted her with her gentle smile. "I was hoping to see you today."

"Hi, Annie," Abby said rather wanly as she sat down next to her.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, Annie," she sighed, "it's been just awful lately. You know that new family who moved into town? Well, their daughter seems to have designs on Sydney already."

Annie furrowed her brow. "Oh, I see." She knew how Abby felt about Sydney. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but one thing's for sure, I don't like her. I don't know what Syd sees in her."

Abby kept her eyes focused on her needlework. "Well, she is very beautiful, Abby, and her father is very rich."

"Hmmph," Abby grunted. "She smiles too much."

Annie set her sewing down in her lap and looked at her friend. "Abby, don't you think it's time you were realistic? Sydney is a grown man and you are just a child. Do you really expect him to wait for you to grow up before he marries?"

"Why not?" Abby exclaimed, feeling tears gather in her eyes. "In less than four years I'll be seventeen years old. Mary Fuller got married at seventeen. Lots of people get married at seventeen. It's not that long for him to wait!"

"But, Abby, just because you want to marry him doesn't mean that he would want to marry you. To him you are like his little sister. That may be the only way he will ever see you. You have to let this go and move on with your life—for your own sake. Otherwise, you're just going to get your heart broken over and over again. Besides," she said a little more gently, "he'll always be a part of your family—it's not like you won't have him in your life anymore if he marries."

"I know, but it's not the same. I'll die if he marries someone else." Abby wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

Annie patted her arm sympathetically. "My ma calls it 'having a crush' and says we mustn't mistake a crush for love."

"A crush?" Abby looked at her curiously.

"Yes, it's called a crush because it hurts a lot when you realise you can't have the person you think you want—like something crushing your heart. But Ma says crushes eventually wear off and before you know it you will find something new to think about. We're too young to know what it really means to be in love, Abby. What you have is a crush on Sydney and if you just give it time it will eventually wear off."

They heard the sound of Pearl Pratt clearing her throat just outside the door.

"I'd better get back to work now," Annie said as she quickly gathered her sewing back in her hands. "Promise you'll think about what I said?"

Abby nodded reluctantly and said goodbye to her friend. But she knew Annie was wrong. She didn't have a silly crush on Sydney. She loved him with all her heart.

---

Sydney had been a very serious little boy when he first came to Candleford. Life had not been kind to him until then. His mother, having had him out of wedlock, was fortunate to find a man who would marry her; a man of substance, who wanted nothing more than to put Sydney out of his sight as though he had never existed. His mother was weak where her new husband was concerned, preferring a comfortable and protected life over her own son, and was soon persuaded to allow him to put Sydney in a boarding school at the tender age of four. What she didn't know was that her husband had lied to her. Instead of a respectable school it was really a home for unwanted children where its inhabitants were allowed no visitors, no holidays, and a blind eye was turned towards bullying. For six long years he endured a childhood without love and without hope, always believing he had done something terribly wrong for his own mother to turn him away. When he was ten years old his step-father died and it was only then that his mother realised the truth of where her son had been taken, but by then she had become ill herself and was too weak to bring him home. Knowing she was dying, she summoned a solicitor to find Sydney's real father, James Dowland, who had no idea that he had a son, and to ask him to be a father to the boy.

Sydney was just as shocked to discover that he had a real father, but he was far from trusting anyone at that point. His own mother didn't want him, why would his father be any different? The only thing he did want was to get away from that dreadful home and away from the beatings and the constant hunger. He didn't care who took him away from it.

As it turned out, his father had had a riding accident and, due to his injuries, was unable to collect him himself. It was Dorcas Lane, Postmistress of the Candleford Post and Telegraph Office and friend to his father, who sent for him and who was the first to greet him when he arrived in Candleford. Her smile was so kind and her voice so gentle towards him that his love-starved heart was immediately drawn to her. She took him into her home and Post Office which was the most wonderful place he had ever seen. He was also greeted by Minnie and Laura, who worked for Miss Lane, and was made to feel so welcome by them that he knew he had finally found a home where he could be happy. He didn't need a father when he had Miss Lane and the Post Office.

So desperate was he to hang on to Miss Lane that he wanted to do nothing wrong to make her send him away like his mother had done. He vowed he would be the best boy he could possibly be; to not be a burden, and to be nothing but a help to Miss Lane. For the first time his heart felt hope and he would let nothing, not even his father, take that away from him.

When James did recover enough, it was understood that Sydney would go to live with him. Sydney knew that James was happy to be his father, but James was still a stranger to him and his behaviour was sometimes erratic and frightening to Sydney. Miss Lane explained that it was due to his injuries and that his father would be just fine once he fully recovered, but Sydney couldn't put any trust in that. He had suffered nothing but unkindness from the men he had known; from his step-father and from the horrible men who beat him at the school he came from. He had had enough fear in his life. He wanted only love and gentleness now and he found that in abundance at the Post Office.

Sydney thanked God every day for Miss Lane. After a difficult struggle she finally convinced his father to let him live with her, and for the first time in his young life he had a place he could call home and a mother who loved him enough to keep him.

Now, as a grown man, Sydney looked around the Post Office and still marvelled at how wonderfully his life turned out despite such a bleak beginning. Even when his new ma eventually married Sir Timothy Midwinter, he lost nothing of her love. In fact, Sir Timothy accepted Sydney as part of the family without question, and Sir Timothy's little daughter Abigail became Sydney's devoted little sister. Sydney laughed as he remembered the first time he met Abby and how quickly the little girl latched on to him. He had never known such devotion before and it gave him great joy to make her happy. Next to Dorcas, he loved Abby more than anyone. But now that he was a man, his thoughts turned to another kind of love that he was eager to bring into his life—that of a wife and children. Now that he was settled into his new life as Postmaster of Candleford, he was ready to share it with someone who would be his partner and stand by his side for the rest of his life. He believed he had found that special someone in Rachel Montgomery, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

---

Sydney was practically in a haze the next few weeks as he spent more and more time in Rachel's company. They took long walks and carriage rides together, even picnics when the weather cooperated. Sydney didn't mind that Rachel did most of the talking. He loved the sound of her voice and everything she uttered was charming to him. He learnt that her father was a self-made man and had acquired quite a bit of wealth in his business dealings. Mr Montgomery made sure his daughter wanted for nothing. As a result, Rachel had the most fashionable wardrobe in town and turned heads wherever she went. Sydney was proud to be at her side; so proud, in fact, that he was eager to introduce her to his mother and Sir Timothy.

Sydney went to the manor and found his mother in the garden cutting roses and collecting them in a basket.

"Why, Sydney, what a nice surprise! I didn't expect to see you today," Dorcas greeted him with a smile.

"Hello, Ma," he said as he bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Is everything all right, darling? Shouldn't you be at the Post Office?" she asked.

"Everything's fine, Ma. More than fine, actually! I left Harry in charge at the Post Office as I have something I want to tell you."

Dorcas looked intrigued as she saw how happy he looked. "Well, let's sit down, shall we, and you can tell me all about it."

Sydney sat next to his mother and after a moment's pause said rather shyly, "Ma, I think I'm in love."

Dorcas's eyes widened and her hand grasped his arm. "Oh, Sydney, how wonderful! May I ask who the lucky young lady is?"

Sydney was grinning broadly now. "Her name is Rachel Montgomery—her family recently moved here from London."

"Oh, Timothy mentioned a new family moving to town. I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to meet them myself," Dorcas said.

"Well, that's why I've come today, Ma. I wanted to ask if I could bring Rachel to Sunday dinner so I could introduce her to you and Sir Timothy."

"That would be lovely, darling! Of course you must bring her to dinner." Dorcas's eyes twinkled at him. "I am eager to meet the girl who has captured my son's heart!"

Sydney grasped her hand. "Oh, Ma, she is the sweetest most beautiful creature! I just know you will love her."

Dorcas gave him a hug. "If you love her, Sydney, then I am sure I will, too. Now, why don't you take her these roses? The rose is the flower of love, after all!"

Sydney laughed as he took the beautiful flowers and kissed her goodbye. "Thanks, Ma. See you Sunday!"

Abby wanted to die when she found out that Sydney was bringing Rachel to dinner at the manor. It was bad enough that she had to endure Rachel's little visits to the Post Office, but to have to see her in her own home? She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rachel was all wrong for Sydney. There was an insincerity about her that grated on Abby's nerves. Not to mention Abby was certain Rachel disliked her intensely. "She probably knows I'm on to her," Abby thought to herself.

"Ma, why is Syd bringing her here?" Abby asked Dorcas that afternoon.

"Well, darling, Sydney wants her to meet his family. I think it's nice, don't you?"

"I've already met her, Ma, and I don't like her."

"Abby, that's not a nice thing to say. Why on earth don't you like her?"

"Well, for one thing, I know she doesn't like me. She always tries to get rid of me every time she comes into the Post Office. And she talks too much—she never lets Syd get a word in edgewise!"

"Now, Abby, I'm sure that's not true."

Abby shook her head. "She doesn't like the Post Office, either, Ma. I can tell she doesn't think it good enough for her."

"Well, now, we mustn't jump to conclusions, Abby. Besides, the important thing is that Sydney likes her very much and it is our job to support him and welcome her into our lives—for his sake."

Abby sighed and looked so miserable that Dorcas put her arm around her. "I know you and Sydney have always been close and it must be hard to see him with new people, but, darling, that doesn't mean he will love you any less. He is a man now and it is only natural that he would be thinking of finding a wife. You will always be a part of his family and that will never change."

"I know, but that's not…I mean…I don't want….Oh, never mind." Abby knew she couldn't tell her mother the real reason why she didn't want Sydney to marry. Instead, she turned and ran up the stairs to her room. Dorcas watched her go with a troubled look on her face.

Dorcas and Timothy greeted Rachel warmly when she and Sydney arrived. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Montgomery," Dorcas said as she took Rachel's hand in hers.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Dorcas," Rachel replied with a little curtsy.

"Yes, welcome to our home," Timothy said cordially.

"Thank you, Sir Timothy. What a magnificent house this is!" Rachel gushed. "Has your family always owned it?"

"Yes, the Midwinters have been here since the early sixteenth century. The old pile has held up fairly well, don't you think?" He patted the pillar next to him fondly.

"It has indeed!" Rachel replied as she stepped forward and gazed about the room, taking in every little detail. "Sydney, wouldn't you like to live in a house just like this someday?" she asked.

"Oh, well, I think I prefer what I have already. It's much cosier. No offence, Sir Timothy," Sydney said.

"None taken, Sydney. I completely understand your preference for the Post Office," Timothy replied with a wink to Dorcas.

"Do you?" Rachel raised her eyebrows at Sydney.

Sydney started to look a bit flustered. "Well, yes, but we can discuss this another time, can't we, my dear?"

Rachel smiled a little too brightly. "Of course."

"Well, I believe dinner is ready," Dorcas said quickly. "I'll just go upstairs and fetch the children and then we can be seated!"

Dorcas returned with Benjamin in hand and a sullen looking Abby trailing behind. "Be gracious now, Abigail," Dorcas whispered in her ear as she passed by.

"Good evening, Miss Montgomery," Abby said to Rachel with a smile that was really just a stretching of her mouth.

Rachel flashed a smile at Abby that made her skin crawl. "Good evening, Abigail. It's good to see you again."

With Dorcas's watchful eyes upon her, Abby smiled back and then quickly sat down.

"And who is this handsome young man?" Rachel said to Benjamin who began to squirm in his seat.

"This is my brother Benjamin," Abby replied.

"Say 'how do you do' to Miss Montgomery, Benjamin," Timothy said to his son.

"How do you do, Miss Montgomery," Benjamin said unenthusiastically. Young ladies held no interest for him.

"Very well, thank you," Rachel replied.

Dorcas looked around the table. "Abigail, be a dear and pass Miss Montgomery the potatoes. I don't believe she has any yet."

Abby took the bowl and handed it over to Rachel, who took a large helping before handing the bowl back. Abby tried not to roll her eyes.

Timothy then asked after her parents and Rachel spent the next several minutes happily telling them all about her father's business ventures.

"You must be very proud of him," Dorcas said encouragingly.

"Oh, yes, Father has been very successful." Then she turned to Sydney. "In fact, I just had an idea, Sydney. I'm sure if I spoke to Father he would give you a position in one of his companies! Wouldn't that be wonderful? I know you would work yourself up the ladder in no time and then you could live in a house as grand as this one!"

Sydney just stared at her and was momentarily speechless. Abby looked over at Dorcas with a triumphant look on her face, but Dorcas just shook her head ever so slightly in return and then ventured a glance over at Timothy, who had suddenly taken a great interest in his wine glass.

"Rachel, dear, that is very sweet of you to think of me, but I already have a position as Postmaster here in Candleford," Sydney said carefully.

"Yes, of course you do," Rachel said. "And what a fine little Post Office it is, too, but you are capable of so much more, Sydney. I just know Father would be thrilled to take you on."

Sydney was silent as he continued to eat his dinner, but his cheeks were now flushed and he suddenly didn't look all that happy anymore.

Abby, feeling the tides finally changing, couldn't stop the grin from spreading over her face. She picked up the bowl that was next to her plate and held it out to Rachel as she asked brightly, "More potatoes, Miss Montgomery?"

---

Within a few weeks Abby turned fourteen years old and her family celebrated with a special dinner at the manor. Dorcas had invited Laura and Richard Armstrong and their three boys, Thomas and Margaret Brown and their two children, as well as Abby's best friend Annie Timmins. Before their guests arrived, Timothy wanted a moment alone with his daughter.

"Abigail, come take a walk with me," he said.

Abby smiled at him. "All right, Papa."

They walked a little ways through the large garden arm-in-arm until Timothy stopped at a small bench that afforded a lovely view of the land before them. He was silent for a moment after they sat down and gazed out towards the horizon. Finally, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, narrow box. Abby gave him a curious look as he put it into her hands.

"This belonged to your mother," he said. "I know she would have wanted you to have it. Happy birthday, Abigail."

Abby opened the box and found a pearl necklace lying within. "Oh, Papa, it's beautiful," she said with awe.

He lifted the necklace out of the box for her and had her turn around so he could fasten it around her neck. "They look beautiful on you, darling."

Abby gave him a hug. "Thank you, Papa."

He smiled at her, but his eyes looked rather sad. "You are growing up so fast. I wish your mother could see you now. She would be so proud of you, Abigail."

"I wish she could see me, too," she said softly as she fingered the pearls. It was so rare that her father mentioned her mother that she was always afraid to ask him anything about her, but now seemed to be the perfect opportunity. "Papa, what was Mother like? I was so young when she died that my memories of her are just brief flashes…like pictures."

Timothy took a deep breath and looked off to the horizon again. "Your mother was very, very beautiful. She loved the city life and the society that came with it. She could throw the most elegant party you ever saw. But most of all she wanted to be a mother. The happiest day of her life was the day you were born, Abigail. She was so taken with you that it was all I could do to pry you from her arms so I could hold you myself." He began to chuckle. "She was, unfortunately, a terrible horsewoman."

"She was?" Abby said with surprise as she herself loved to ride.

"Oh, yes, she was terrified of horses, having grown up in the city. The first time I took her riding I chose the gentlest horse I could find for her, but, unfortunately, a pheasant chose that moment to fly right in front of her face and she screamed so loud the horse took off running. That made her scream even more and the louder she screamed the faster the horse ran. We were practically in the next county before I finally caught up to her."

Abby was laughing now, too. "Oh, poor Mother."

Timothy shook his head at the memory. "Yes, poor thing, she did try to please me by going for rides with me, but I could tell she was never comfortable sitting on a horse." He went silent again for a few moments and Abby hoped he would say more about her mother. But finally he just said, "I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to know her, Abigail."

Abby nodded sadly. "So am I."

Then Timothy put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Well, let's get home and greet our guests now, shall we?"

They hurried back and were just in time to greet everyone as they arrived. "Happy birthday, Abby!" Laura said as she gave Abby a hug. "Goodness, you've been growing! You're almost as tall as I am!"

Abby looked pleased. "Thank you, Laura."

Annie came up next and squealed happily, "Happy birthday, Abby! Ooh, I love your new dress! And your hair looks so gorgeous done up like that!"

Dorcas had taken Abby to Oxford the week before and bought her two new fancy dresses, shoes and decorative hairpins and combs for her birthday. Abby hugged her friend and they began to giggle just as girls always do. Sydney came up next and gave her a big kiss on the cheek that made her blush. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," Sydney said to her. "Look how grown up you look! You must be getting taller—I don't have to stoop so far to hug you!"

Annie raised her eyebrows at Abby and they both started giggling again. "Thank you, Syd," she said with a special smile just for him.

Thomas and Margaret arrived next and had just enough time to wish her a happy birthday before having to restrain John and Hannah who were about to run after Laura's three boys, Robert, David and Richard Jr. Finally, they let the children go and they went careening out into the garden laughing and chasing each other.

Dinner was a happy affair and everyone ooh'ed and ah'ed over the pearl necklace that Timothy had given to Abby. Laura and Richard had given her a beautiful little brooch, and Thomas and Margaret gave her a book of poems and a lovely scarf that Margaret had knitted herself.

Abby's hands trembled a bit when Sydney gave her his present. It was a little box wrapped in a bright blue bow. Her cheeks went pink as she untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a little gold heart-shaped locket on a gold chain. "Oh, Siddy, it's beautiful! Thank you! Oh, I love it!" She ran over to him and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Sydney laughed. "I'm glad you like it. Happy birthday, Abbs," he said.

Abby then turned to everyone. "Thank you all for my beautiful gifts and for coming to my birthday party."

"To Abby!" they toasted her.

After everyone had had their dessert, they retired to the parlour where the children occupied themselves with games in one corner whilst the adults chatted together. Annie and Abby were sitting next to each other when Abby noticed that Sydney was talking quietly with Dorcas and looking rather sad.

Annie followed her gaze and gave her a nudge. "I thought Sydney would have brought Miss Montgomery tonight."

"Well, I'm glad he didn't!" Abby replied. Then she looked thoughtful. "Now that I think of it, I haven't seen Miss Montgomery visit the Post Office lately."

"Hmm…" Annie murmured. "Do you think something happened between them? He doesn't look very happy talking to your mother right now."

"No, he doesn't, does he?" She strained her ears trying to hear what Sydney and her mother were saying, but she could only catch bits and pieces that revealed nothing. It wasn't until her mother embraced Sydney that she heard her say, "Oh, darling, you will find someone new to love again soon, I promise you."

Annie gasped, having heard what Dorcas said, too, and grabbed Abby's hand. "They really aren't together anymore!" she whispered to her friend.

It was the best birthday gift Abby could have asked for.

Chapter 3

Finally realising that Rachel was not the kind of girl who would be happy as the wife of a Postmaster, Sydney had reluctantly parted ways with her. It left him feeling sad and rather depressed as though he had failed her somehow. Abby was happy as a lark that Sydney was finally rid of the woman, but it gave her pain to see him looking so sad in the days that followed. She took his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Don't be sad, Siddy. Miss Montgomery must be crazy not to want to live here with you at the Post Office and you don't want to be with a crazy lady." Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and said, "And you still have me—I would marry you in a heartbeat! I can't imagine a more wonderful place to live than right here with you."

Sydney patted her arm. "You are sweet, Abbs, thank you. I am so lucky to have a sister like you."

It frustrated Abby that he missed the significance of her words and still only saw her as a sister. She pulled away and looked at him. "I'm not really your sister, Syd. Do we have the same mother? No. Do we share the same father? No. We're not related, Syd. I could be your wife! I know I'm only fourteen, but if you could just wait a few more years…"

Sydney suddenly looked rather hurt. "You don't want me to be your brother, Abby?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant. I love you so much, Siddy. What I'm saying is we're not related by blood so there is no reason why you couldn't marry me." She smiled hopefully up at him.

Now he looked perplexed. "Marry you? Oh, Abby, I am so flattered that you would even think of such a thing. But, dear heart, I am far too old for you. One day when you are grown up you will find a handsome young man who will steal your heart and you won't even give me a second thought. But it is very sweet of you to say that to me, Abbs. And even though we don't share the same blood, I will always love you as my very dear little sister." He kissed her on the forehead. "Now, I need you to run this package over to Doctor Armstrong's office and don't forget to have him sign for it!"

Abby felt like crying to be dismissed so lightly after her grand declaration. Why wouldn't he take her seriously? She took the package from him and ran out the door.

The following morning Sydney was still feeling down and was so deep in thought that he didn't hear Thomas come in to work.

"Good morning, Mr Dowland," Thomas greeted him. When Sydney didn't reply he called out again, "Mr Dowland?"

Sydney gave a start. "Oh, Thomas, I'm sorry. I'm a little…um…distracted this morning."

"Is everything all right, sir?" Thomas asked with concern.

"Yes, as well as can be, anyway," Sydney sighed. "Was there something you wanted, Thomas?"

Thomas had his young son John with him, who was dressed in an identical postman's uniform as his father. John's mother, Margaret, had made it for him. Thomas clasped his hand on his son's shoulder. "John, here, has expressed an interest in joining our honourable profession when he's old enough," Thomas said proudly. "Would it be all right if he accompanied me on my rounds today?"

Sydney smiled down at the boy. "So you want to be a postman, eh, John?"

"Yes, sir, it looks like fun!" John said enthusiastically.

Thomas looked rather embarrassed. "Son, a postman's job is not 'fun'. It is a most serious duty! We are, after all, in the service of Her Majesty! Why, we might carry in our hands a person's fate—sometimes their very lives! It is important, yes, and an honour, most definitely, but fun?" Thomas looked aghast. "Never."

"Yes, Father," John said contritely.

Sydney tried to suppress a smile. "Well, then, of course John may accompany you today, Thomas."

"Thank you, sir!" Thomas said happily.

Sydney regarded Thomas and John, who looked like a miniature version of his father, and said rather wistfully, "I envy you, Thomas. Finding a wife is proving to be more difficult than I expected."

"Well, you're still young, Mr Dowland. You must remember I was twice your age before I finally found my Margaret." He gave a little chuckle. "Well, to be perfectly honest, she found me. Oh, but she was worth waiting for after all those years of being alone. And when John and Hannah were born…it was like no happiness I have ever known. Just wait and see. You will find out for yourself one day."

"I hope that 'one day' will be soon, Thomas."

"Well, just remember the words of our Lord, sir: 'Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek and ye shall find.'"

Sydney nodded. "Thank you, Thomas. Have fun now, John!" Then seeing the disapproving look on Thomas's face, quickly amended, "I mean, I hope you will find the duties of a postman to your liking today."

"Thank you, sir!" John said as he took his father's postbag and slung it across his small shoulder.

Sydney watched them go off together and hoped with all his heart he would one day have a son to follow in his footsteps, too.

---

Abby lay upon her bed and stared at the flames in her little fireplace. It hurt that Sydney didn't take her feelings for him seriously. How was she to endure years of waiting to grow up so he would finally take notice of her? She got lucky where Rachel was concerned. But what if Sydney found someone new to fall in love with who wasn't a snob and who had no objections to being the wife of a Postmaster before she could catch up to him?

She sighed heavily and her gaze moved away from the flames and traveled to the wall next to the fireplace where her eyes traced the familiar patterns on the ancient wallpaper of tall birch trees with multitudes of colourful birds upon their branches. A tiny movement caught her attention and she saw a small black spider making its way up the wall. Suddenly, it seemed to disappear into the wall itself. Abby blinked and wondered if she had imagined the spider until it popped out of wherever it was and continued its journey before disappearing once again. Curious now, Abby stood up and walked over to the wall and looked at the spot where the spider had disappeared. She saw that the wallpaper had cracked with age in a straight line from the floor to just above her head and, to her amazement, when she gently pressed her finger on it she felt an indentation in the wall behind it that followed along the crack. Feeling a growing excitement within her, she reached up and felt the wall above her head and was rewarded with finding another indentation that traveled horizontally, then down again on the other side, where she found two faint bulges that might have been hinges disguised by the busyness of the wallpaper.

"Could it be…?" she whispered to herself. She placed her hand at the level of where a doorknob would be and the tip of her finger pressed the shape of a keyhole into the wallpaper. She shook her head in disbelief. She had found a hidden door.

She could hardly contain her excitement as she ran down to the kitchen and found a sharp paring knife. Bringing it back to her room, she gently ran the knife along the outline of the door and cut a small hole in the wallpaper where the keyhole was. She stuck her eye to the keyhole but whatever lay beyond it was in darkness. How on earth was she going to open the door without a doorknob? She thought for awhile and then ran back downstairs and out to the gardener's tool shed where she found a pair of pliers. Once back in her room, she grabbed the inside of the keyhole with the pliers and began to pull. The door did not budge. She pulled again, much harder this time, but the door was still stuck tight. Feeling around the edge of the door once more, she realised that the door had been nailed shut and she nearly cried out with frustration.

Back she went outside and this time she found the gardener and asked him how to remove nails from wood.

"Why on earth do you need to know how to do that, miss?" the gardener asked with amusement.

"Oh, it's just a little project I'm working on, Mr Fieldstone," she said airily.

The gardener then gave her a little strip of metal that he called a "cat's paw" and a hammer and showed her how to tease a nail out of a block of wood.

"Oh, that looks easy enough. Thank you, Mr Fieldstone!" she said happily as she ran back towards the house, leaving the gardener standing there scratching his head.

Removing the first nail in the door was but the work of a moment, but the others gave her a little more trouble. She teased them out one by one, each making a weird screeching noise as it resisted being disturbed from its resting place. When the last nail was removed she once again attached the pliers to the keyhole and this time the door began to open with a loud squeal from its hinges.

Abby's heart was beating so hard she could feel it pulsing in her ears as she grabbed a candle and lit it before sticking it through the doorway. The air from inside the room was musty and dank, having been closed in for probably nearly a century. Abby didn't care, though. She raised her candle and slowly ventured inside. There she found a large room whose contents were shrouded in sheets now yellowed with age. Spider webs hung from the ceiling and dust made its way up her nose making her sneeze. When she turned about the room she gasped loudly as a face suddenly appeared out of the darkness. She nearly dropped her candle in fright, thinking it was surely a ghost, until she realised it was only a painting on the wall.

Once she got her courage back, she ventured slowly up to the painting and raised her candle to it. There looking down on her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her hair was golden blonde and blazed about her head like a halo. Her eyes were large and deep blue with a hint of sadness about them despite the gentle smile that played upon her lips. She looked to be about twenty years old, or perhaps younger, but so alive and with such awareness about her that Abby knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she had known this woman she would have loved her. Abby leaned closer and saw there was a small, brass nameplate attached to the frame, but its etching was obscured by dust. She took her sleeve and rubbed it until it shone again, revealing the words 'Clarissa 1788'.

"Hello, Clarissa," Abby said softly. "I'm Abigail."

---

Abby could hardly sleep the night she found Clarissa's room. She told no one of her discovery even though she was the first Midwinter after several generations to succeed in finding the long-missing secret room. She remembered her father telling her that it may have been just a family tale, but now she knew it really did exist. Her mind raced. Who was Clarissa and why was her room sealed away with all her belongings left inside? What did she do that was so unforgivable?

She knew she would have to share her discovery eventually, but not quite yet. For now, it was something that belonged completely to her and she believed the mystery of Clarissa was meant for her to solve. Already Abby felt a bond with the beautiful young woman and she vowed, even if she had to reach through the strands of time, to help return her to the world she was banished from.

The next day was Sunday and Abby could barely sit still in church, so fidgety was she to get back home and explore the secret room more thoroughly. Once she did, she changed into her oldest clothes and waited for her mother to busy herself in her garden and for Ben to go outside to play so she wouldn't be interrupted. She crept down to the cupboard that held the housekeeper's cleaning supplies and took some old rags and a bucket of water, along with a sturdy broom, to her room. When the secret door was closed no one could see the outline of the door as the wallpaper fell together so neatly. Even if someone were to come into her room looking for her they wouldn't find her.

She lit a candle and then entered into Clarissa's chamber, closing the door behind her. She lit more candles and placed them around the room so she would have more light to work by. She shook her head as she saw where the window still stood in its casement, but it had been bricked up from the outside. With no window visible to the outside world, no wonder the room went unnoticed for so long.

Abby spent the rest of the afternoon clearing the cobwebs away with her broom and wiping and washing the dust away from all the furniture until the bucket of water was filthy black and her face was smudged with dirt. The bed stood with its blankets, coverlet and pillows still intact but they appeared frail in their old age. She let them be for now, knowing to disturb them would send more dust into the air. She slowly opened the large wardrobe that stood in one corner of the room and found it filled with ancient dresses and shoes that were now faded and moth-eaten, but not yet decayed. She touched them reverently, knowing that Clarissa herself must have worn them. She moved on to the dresser and in opening its drawers found gloves and stockings and other items that she was unfamiliar with. A hand mirror lay face down in one drawer and Abby took it out and held it up to her own face, imagining how many times Clarissa's face had been reflected in its depths. She even found the matching hairbrush lying at the back of the drawer and, to Abby's amazement, it still held fine blonde strands within its bristles—Clarissa's own beautiful hair! It was almost too much for Abby to take in. She placed it carefully back in its drawer and then turned to the last piece of furniture left to explore. It was a small, beautifully carved serpentine mahogany desk which sat in lady-like delicacy just below the blinded window. Abby imagined Clarissa sitting there writing her letters and gazing outside to the gardens below. The desk had three small drawers running down its left side and one below the writing surface itself. She opened the latter first and found three quills and a bottle of ink, now long dried up, along with a red wax candle and a brass stamp with the entwined initials CM upon it, used to seal her letters. Abby searched the rest of the drawers, hoping to find some letters within, but was disappointed to find not a one. After closing the last drawer on the bottom she heard a faint clunk, as though something had dropped inside the drawer. She slowly opened it back up, afraid now that a mouse might have got inside of it, but instead found that the back panel of the drawer had fallen forward. She brought her candle closer to the drawer and gasped when she realised that it was not the back of the drawer that had fallen, but a secret panel! Hiding just beyond where the false panel once stood was a bundle of letters tied neatly together with a dark green ribbon. Abby's hand shook as she reached inside and pulled the letters out and held them up to the light. The first two were addressed to Miss Clarissa Midwinter of Candleford Manor, but the subsequent ones only had 'Clarissa' written upon them as though they had been hand delivered, bypassing the postal service. All were written in the same fine bold hand.

Abby felt excitement welling up inside of her and quickly blew out all the candles whilst taking away the cleaning supplies before taking the precious bundle of correspondence back to her own room and hiding it under the loose floorboard next to her bed. She had just enough time to clean herself up and change her clothes before going down to dinner where she was so preoccupied she wasn't even aware of what she was eating.

"Where have you been all day, Abigail?" Dorcas asked as they sat at the dinner table.

Abby jumped guiltily. "Just up in my room, Ma. I was reading my book."

"That's funny," Dorcas replied. "I went to your room earlier, but you weren't there."

"Oh!" Abby quickly searched for an excuse. "Oh, I was probably in the library looking for my book when you were looking for me."

Dorcas studied her for a moment. "I see. I suppose we just missed each other!"

Abby laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose we did!"

Dorcas reached over and plucked a dusty cobweb from Abby's hair, much to Abby's mortification. "Hmmm," Dorcas murmured. "I don't remember the library being quite so dusty. I'll have to speak to the head housekeeper."

Abby gave her a weak smile and then turned her attention back to her plate to avoid her mother's keen eyes. It was nearly impossible to hide anything from her mother, but she had to succeed in doing so. Clarissa was counting on her.

Dinner seemed to last forever, but finally it was over and Abby restrained herself from running back to her room. She kissed her father and mother goodnight and then walked as calmly as she could up the staircase to avoid suspicion. Once in her room, she quickly retrieved the letters from their hiding place and untied the ribbon. Her hands trembled as she opened the first letter and read its words:

My Dearest One,

I have begun this letter not five minutes from returning home, so eager am I to speak to you again. Enchantress! You have cast a spell over me and have become the only object in my World and Heavens.

I cannot wait to see your sweet face once more. I will find you tomorrow, for to wait a moment longer would be the cruelest agony.

Sleep well, my Angel Heart, my dearest Clarrie!

Yours most faithfully,

G

Abby slowly put the letter down. A love letter! Clarrisa was in love, but with whom? Who was 'G'?

She eagerly opened the next letter and devoured its contents:

Dearest Angel Heart,

I felt each of your tears today as though my own heart was pierced a thousand times. Your despair is my despair! Lord Roderick must take the wishes of his eldest into account! Surely, he cannot be so cold-hearted as to follow through with such a threat.

Courage, my Love, I am the shadow that stands waiting to be your Champion.

Meet me tomorrow at our special place.

G

Abby began to feel anxious for poor Clarissa. What was her father planning to do to her? She reached for the next letter and her anxiety only increased.

My Love!

In what desperation I have been cast to have not seen you for days! Thank Providence for faithful Mary to have told me of your fate and who agreed to be our messenger. I never dreamt that Lord Roderick could be so dastardly as to lock his own daughter away, to be kept as prisoner in her own home! To what selfish depths he has sunk!

Do not despair, my Angel, I am coming for you.

G

"Oh, yes, save her, G!" Abby whispered fervently as she reached for the next letter.

My Dearest,

Why did you stop me? I refuse to believe you have changed your heart and accepted your Fate. It is true that I have no wealth to offer you and if you were to agree to marry the Duke you would live in great splendour. If I thought that worldly goods were all that you needed to be happy then I would gladly step aside and be happy for your good fortune. But, darling Clarrie, the Duke is incapable of giving love, and I know without it your soul would starve and your heart would wither.

The heart is where true riches lie. Let me love you, my Angel Heart, and you will be the richest woman in the world!

I am at the ready with sword drawn! I await your clarion call….

G

"Listen to him, Clarrie!" Abby wanted to scream as she wiped away the tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. She spent the rest of the night reading and rereading the rest of the letters, her heart breaking more with each one, until she came to the final letter:

Oh, my Love,

How my heart wept when I heard your father had sold you for thirty pieces of silver to the Duke of Wilmesbury. What is he about to so heartlessly cast his own daughter into the lion's den? My darling Innocence, I cannot let this happen. The Duke is incapable of love and I will not stand by and watch as he dims the fire in your eyes and tramples upon your heart.

Mary and I have worked out a plan. Be ready at midnight—I am coming for you.

G

That was it. The letters ended there. Abby felt as though she was in a fog, so deeply had she been immersed in the drama of G's letters to Clarissa. She had to find out what happened next! Did G indeed rescue Clarrie or did her father succeed in marrying her off to the wicked Duke? If it took the rest of her life, Abby was going to find out.

---

There had to be more information about Clarissa somewhere in the manor. Abby did another thorough search of the secret room, hoping to find more letters, or a diary, or even a scrap of paper, but there was nothing left to find.

The next morning at breakfast, Abby finally asked her father, "Papa, did you ever hear of someone in our family named Clarissa?"

Timothy looked puzzled. "Clarissa? No, I'm afraid I've never heard of anyone by that name before. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I just saw the name somewhere and wondered if it had belonged to anyone in our family. It's a very pretty name."

Timothy shook his head. "No, not to my knowledge, darling."

Abby sighed. "Papa, where could I find some information about our ancestors? Our family's been here such a long time that I thought it would be interesting to know the names of the people who have lived here."

Timothy looked pleased. "I am very happy to see you taking an interest in our family, Abigail. I believe there is a family tree around here somewhere, but if you are looking for names you might start with the family Bible. It's on the pedestal in my study."

The family Bible! Of course! Abby nearly slapped herself on the head for not thinking of that herself. She excused herself as quickly as she could and ran to her father's study. The Bible was quite large and very, very old. Its leather cover was cracked with age and the spine was beginning to split so Abby handled it quite gingerly. She found the pages that held the names of the family as far back as the 1600's and marvelled at the differences in handwriting from one century to another. Some of the writing was faded and the language difficult to decipher, but finally she reached the late 1700's and eagerly sought out Clarissa's name. Since her painting was done in 1788 Abby reckoned Clarissa had to have been born between 1768 and 1770. She ran her finger down the list of names and frowned when she came to the dates where Clarissa's name should have been, only to find one name obliterated by black ink. It had to be Clarissa's. Abby hefted the heavy Bible over to the light of the window, straining to see any sign of the name below the ink. Finally, when she tilted the page in the light a certain way, she could faintly make out a C at the beginning and an A at the end where the letters were scratched deep into the paper itself. A birth date had also been obliterated, but the date of death remained blank. Abby felt sad to find that poor Clarissa had been banished even from the family Bible. At least now she knew the names of Clarissa's parents: Lord Roderick Midwinter and Lady Adrianna, as well as her brothers Jamison, Colin and Randolph, and one sister, Mary. Clarissa had been the eldest. Abby traced Mary's name fondly as she had to have been the Mary who played messenger for her sister and the mysterious G. Following the family links in the Bible, she discovered that Jamison had been her own great-great grandfather making Clarissa one of her great aunts.

"You are not forgotten, Aunt Clarissa!" Abby whispered fervently.

She had hoped somehow that the Bible would have revealed the name of the man Clarissa had married, but nothing more had been added to her name. Abby did take heart in the fact that if Clarissa had let her father marry her off to the Duke it would surely have been listed in the Bible. That meant that G must have rescued her after all!

Her next idea was to visit the family cemetery. She spent an entire afternoon reading each and every gravestone she came upon. She found Roderick's and Adrianna's graves and that of all their children except one: Poor Clarissa's was missing. She must have run off far away and been buried God knows where. Abby's shoulders slumped as she made her way home. She had no idea where else to look. Her only hope was to discover who G was for surely Clarissa had married him. If she could only discover his surname then she could possibly trace his family and find out what happened to her great-great-great aunt.

A few nights later, Abby sat in the parlour with her parents in front of a cheerful fire that was blazing in the fireplace. She stared into the flames and wondered if Clarissa had sat in that very same spot, gazing into that same fireplace and dreaming about her lover, G, just as she herself dreamt about Sydney.

"Penny for your thoughts, Abigail," Dorcas said, bringing her out of her reverie. Dorcas was darning one of Benjamin's socks and had been watching Abby as she sat in front of the fire.

Abby gave her a half smile. "Oh, I'm just thinking about lots of things…nothing special."

"I see. You've been very quiet lately, darling, is everything all right?" Dorcas asked gently.

"Yes, everything's fine, Ma."

"You do know that I am always here for you if you need to talk about anything, or ask any questions you might have about, well, anything," Dorcas said, trying to be delicate. Abby was now at an age where she was growing up and her body was changing to that of a woman. It was a difficult time for most girls and Dorcas hoped that Abby would feel comfortable coming to her with any concerns she might have.

Abby smiled reassuringly at her. "I know, Ma, thank you, but I'm fine—really I am."

"All right, dear."

Dorcas continued darning the sock and Abby went back to thinking. Suddenly, she had a terrible thought: With her father being such an important man as the Squire of Candleford and she his eldest child, what if he insisted she marry someone of high standing just like Clarissa's father insisted she marry the Duke? What if he wouldn't allow her to marry Sydney? She would simply die!

"Papa?" Abby said.

"Hmm?" Timothy had his head buried in a book.

"You're not going to make me marry a Duke, are you?"

Timothy raised his head and looked blankly at his daughter. "A Duke? What Duke? What are you talking about, Abigail? You are far too young to be thinking of marrying anyone."

"I know, Papa. I was just wondering, when I am old enough to marry, if you're going to force me into a marriage with a nasty old Duke."

Timothy blinked at her. "No one is going to force anyone into a marriage they don't want, Abigail. However, when it does come time for you to choose a husband, as your father I would hope you would choose wisely. I won't suffer any fools for a son-in-law—even if he is a Duke!"

Abby looked relieved. "So does that mean if I wanted to marry a farmer…"

"A farmer? Surely not a farmer, darling. You would have too hard of a life as a farmer's wife."

Abby gave an impatient sigh. "I was just using it as an example, Papa. Like a butcher…or a baker…or…or…"

"A Postmaster?" Dorcas added helpfully whilst trying to look innocent, but a smile played across her lips.

Abby flushed a bright red and avoided her mother's knowing eyes. "Well, yes, or perhaps a teacher or a haberdasher…"

"Certainly not a haberdasher, darling. They are far too vain. You would never get your turn at the mirror!" Timothy winked at Dorcas, who rolled her eyes at him.

"Papa…" Abby said with exasperation.

"I'm sorry, darling. I was just having a bit of fun. All this talk of my little girl marrying is making me feel very, very old."

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Papa."

"Hmmph," Timothy grunted. "You are a little girl until I say otherwise!"

Her father was exasperating, but at least he wasn't going to force her into a marriage she wouldn't want. She walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked, looking surprised, but also rather pleased.

She looked fondly down at him. "For not making me marry a Duke!"

Chapter 4

Nearly a year had passed since finding Clarissa's room, but Abby was still no closer to solving the mystery of her thrice-great aunt's fate than she was before. She had already gone through every archive her father had on their family, but it was as though Clarissa had never existed. It began to weigh on Abby's conscience that she had yet to share her discovery with her father, whom she knew would be fascinated to know that the hidden room really did exist, but something held her back from telling him just yet. Something compelled her to solve the mystery first before telling anyone else about it.

Sometimes she would stand in front of Clarissa's portrait and plead with her spirit to help her in her quest for the truth. But Clarissa remained enigmatically silent.

It wasn't until she was looking inside the loose floorboard of her own room that it occurred to her that there might be a similar loose floorboard in Clarissa's room—perhaps under which more letters could be found! She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. Back she went into the room and placed several candles around on the floor whilst she got down on her hands and knees and searched painstakingly every inch of it. She was next to Clarissa's desk by the wall near the window when a tiny something caught her eye sticking out from behind the desk itself. It looked like the corner of a piece of paper! Abby held her breath as she pinched the corner of the paper and slowly teased it out from its hiding place. It was coated in a thick layer of dust and at first, to Abby's disappointment, it appeared to be blank. But when she blew the dust away she was rewarded to find faded words upon it. She was nearly sick with excitement as she brought the paper into the light of the candle and began to read the words that could only have been written by Clarissa's own hand:

My Love,

You do not know how your letter has saved me from the depths of despair! My father and the Duke have arranged for the marriage to take place tomorrow and I was ready to take my own life before pledging my troth to such a man.

But you, my Knight in shining armour, my precious Gareth, are coming for me and now my soul is soaring once again knowing I will be reunited with you tonight.

Mary tells me that I must

Abby gasped to find that the letter ended there, as though Clarissa had been interrupted in mid sentence. She frantically turned the page over, hoping to find more, but it was blank. She pulled the desk out from the wall and searched behind and beneath it, but no further pages were found. What had happened? Did someone come into the room whilst Clarissa was writing this letter, someone like her father, and she pushed it behind the desk so he wouldn't see it? Did someone keep her from replying to her lover and thus prevent her midnight rescue?

Now Abby would never know, and she wanted to cry with frustration until she realised she now knew the Christian name of the man Clarissa was in love with: Gareth.

"You've sure been quiet lately, Abbs," Sydney said to her as they stood side-by-side behind the Post Office counter. Abby had been leaning with her elbows on the counter and her chin resting in her hands, deep in thought.

"Oh, sorry, Syd. I've just been thinking about something," she replied.

"What about?" he asked as he put his elbows on the counter, too, and looked at her.

Abby looked away. "Nothing…nothing important."

He nudged his shoulder against hers. "Come on, Abbs, don't be secretive. It's been so slow here today I that would like something to think about, too."

Abby resisted the urge to tell Sydney all about Clarissa and the secret room. As much as she wanted to share it with him she just wasn't ready yet. "It really is nothing, Syd, I promise." She stood up then and yawned, stretching her arms over her head as though to prove how boring her thoughts were.

Sydney looked at her with an appreciative smile. "You sure are getting tall, Abbs. I swear you've grown two inches in the past few months. I guess I can't use the top of your head as an armrest anymore, can I?"

Abby blushed and was pleased that Sydney had noticed how tall she was getting. Her head now reached his chin and he was a little over six feet tall himself.

"Well, Papa says my mother was quite tall so I guess I must have inherited it from her."

"Yes, I remember your mother being very tall and very beautiful," he said.

"You met my mother?" Abby asked, looking surprised.

"Well, it was a long time ago. She came back to town once and she attended a town event. That's when I saw her."

Abby was silent, imagining her mother being in Candleford. She was jealous of anyone who remembered her more than she did.

Sydney nudged her again. "She was beautiful, Abbs, but I think you are going to outshine her when you're grown."

Abby blushed again and her heart gave a little flutter. "Do you really think so?" she asked shyly.

He flashed a dimpled grin at her. "I know so."

She was about to give him a hug when she was interrupted by Harry Smith coming in with the mail to sort. Harry had been hired by Dorcas to take Laura's place after Laura married Doctor Armstrong. He was a quiet, handsome young man with blond hair and gentle, hazel eyes. He fit in well at the Post Office and he and Sydney had become fast friends.

"I have a letter for you, Sydney," Harry said as he handed Sydney an envelope.

"Thanks, Harry. Oh, it's from Pa," he said as he tore open the envelope and took out the letter.

Abby noticed him begin to frown as he read it.

"What is it, Syd?" she asked with concern. "I hope it's not bad news?"

Sydney folded the letter back up and placed it in his pocket. "No, Pa is just worried about Queenie and has asked me to check on her. He says that he hasn't had a letter from her in a long time and that's not like her."

Sydney's father, James, had grown up in Lark Rise, but was orphaned after his mother died when he was just a small boy. Queenie had taken him in and raised him as her own son.

"Ma was just in Lark Rise yesterday and she didn't mention anything about Queenie being poorly," Abby said.

"Well, I'd better check on her just the same for Pa's sake. Harry, can you take over here? I need to make a trip to Lark Rise."

"Sure thing, Sydney," Harry said obligingly as he came around to the back of the counter.

"Syd, can I go with you?" Abby asked.

Sydney nodded. "Come on, then, only grab your coat—it's a bit chilly outside."

When they got to Lark Rise they found Queenie sitting in her chair next to one of her beehives just outside of Alf and Minnie Arliss's house. After her husband Twister passed away five years ago, Queenie seemed to lose some of her zest for life. It was harder for her to get around now and tend to her gardens, not to mention her sight was failing her and she could no longer see clearly enough to read or to make her lace. That only added to her despondency. She could still see fairly well at a distance, though, so she spent her days admiring the fields and sky and tending to her bees. It was just in the last year that Alf was able to persuade her to move in with him and Minnie and their four children. She had been adamant about taking care of herself but Alf persisted. "Queenie, you've done so much for me and mine since I was a child—taking us in when my ma was away, caring for us, feeding us, nursing us, and now it's my turn to take care of you. Please don't take away my chance to repay you for all your kindnesses."

Queenie finally agreed and whilst it could be quite noisy at times in the Arliss household at least she wasn't alone anymore.

Sydney hopped down from the carriage and gave Queenie a kiss on the cheek. "How are you, Queenie?" he asked.

"Sydney, Abby, what a nice surprise," Queenie said. "What brings you out to Lark Rise today?"

"Why, I've come to see you, Queenie. I had a letter from Pa today and he sent along this letter for you. He's been worried about you, you know. He says he hasn't heard from you in a long time."

Queenie took the letter from Syndey and then handed it back to him. "I'm afraid these old eyes aren't able to read anymore. You'll have to read it for me."

Abby came and sat next to Queenie, taking hold of one of her hands as Sydney read the letter.

"Well, it is very sweet of James to be worried about me," Queenie said as Sydney finished the letter. "Tell him there is nothing to worry about, it's just I can't see well enough anymore to write a letter these days. Tell him I'm just fine, won't you, dear?"

"Of course, Queenie. Now is there anything that you need? Anything I can get for you?"

"No, darlin', I'm fine, really I am." Queenie smiled at him gratefully. "Just tell your Pa not to worry about me."

They sat with Queenie for the rest of the afternoon and she seemed to be cheered by their company.

Abby was thoughtful as they made their way back to Candleford. "Poor Queenie, she seems lonely, doesn't she?"

Sydney sighed. "Yes, poor thing. As much as Twister bedeviled her he was her life and she was his. It must be hard to lose someone you've loved your whole life."

Abby put her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know I would want to die if anything ever happened to you, Siddy," she said.

He smiled down at her. "That's very sweet of you to say, Abbs. But I plan to be around for a very long time!"

"I hope so," she said as she tightened her grip on his arm. She loved the feel of his muscles beneath her hands as he steered the horse and carriage.

"I'm going to visit Queenie more often," she suddenly said. "I can't stand the thought of her feeling lonely even though she lives with Alf and Minnie now."

"I think she would like that very much, Abby. You can learn a lot from Queenie."

Abby nodded and vowed to return to Lark Rise within the next few days.

After they arrived back home, Sydney put the carriage away and then paid a visit to Doctor Armstrong.

"Sydney, how are you?" Richard Armstrong greeted the younger man.

"Just fine, doc," Sydney replied. "I've actually come about Queenie."

"Oh? Is something wrong?"

"Well, I went to see her today and she told me her vision hasn't been very good lately and she can no longer see well enough to read. I was hoping you could pay her a visit when you get a chance and see if there's anything you can do to help her."

"Of course I will!" Richard replied. "I will check on her first thing tomorrow."

"Hello, Sydney," Laura greeted him as she came out from the back room. "I thought I heard your voice."

"Hello, Laura, how are you and the boys doing?" Sydney asked as he gave her a hug.

"They're running me ragged as usual, the little scamps," Laura said with fondness. "All four of them," she said as she included her husband as one of the 'boys' with a teasing grin.

"Hmmm," Richard said with a wink towards Sydney, "perhaps it's time we added a girl to that count and evened things up a bit."

Laura rolled her eyes and shook her head at her handsome husband. "You behave yourself!" she admonished him. "Good to see you, Sydney. You must come to dinner soon!"

"I'd like that, Laura, thank you."

He then bid them goodbye and hurried back to the Post Office as he was eager to reply back to his father, reassuring him that Queenie was all right.

---

Doctor Armstrong stopped at the Post Office the moment he returned from visiting Queenie.

Sydney looked up expectantly. "Well, doctor, how is Queenie?"

Richard sighed. "From what I can tell, Queenie's eyes are fine; I think all she needs is a good pair of spectacles and she'll be able to read again."

"That is excellent news!" Sydney said with relief.

"Yes, well, it would be if I could get her to go to Oxford with me to be fitted for a pair. She turned me down, though. She said that spectacles would be more than she could ever afford so she would just have to do without. I told her it would be a privilege for me to pay for them, but she out and out refused."

It was Sydney's turn to sigh. "Oh, I see. Queenie may not have much, but she does have her dignity. I'm not surprised she turned down your offer. But it seems a shame that something so easy to fix is denied to her because of money."

Richard nodded. "I know, it's very frustrating, I wish I could change her mind somehow."

"I'll go talk to her on Sunday and see if I can somehow persuade her to let me help her. I know Pa would want me to after all she did for him when he was a boy."

"I hope you have better luck than I did, Sydney!" Richard said. "Let me know how it goes."

"I will, doc, and thank you again for seeing her."

Richard nodded and headed out the door.

By the time Abby arrived at the Post Office that afternoon, Sydney was still looking troubled.

"What's the matter, Syd?" she asked him.

Sydney filled her in on what Doctor Armstrong had said about Queenie.

"Oh, why won't Queenie let us help her?" Abby exclaimed. "Can I go with you on Sunday to see her? Maybe I can help change her mind, too."

"I don't see why not. Maybe between the two of us we can talk some sense into her."

That Sunday, Sydney and Abby took the carriage into Lark Rise and found Queenie once again sitting next to one of her beehives. She seemed to be whispering to the little creatures.

"Hello, Queenie!" Abby called out to the elderly woman, who turned and smiled when she saw them.

"Well, well, I had a feeling I would be seeing you two today," Queenie chuckled. "But you can tell Doctor Armstrong I'm not budgin'."

Sydney jumped down from the carriage and gave her a hug. "Queenie, please let me help you. If I can help you to read and make your lace again it would make me so happy!"

"Yes, Queenie, please let us get your new spectacles for you!" Abby pleaded.

Queenie placed a loving hand on each of their cheeks. "Thank you, my darlins, that is very sweet of you, but I've always made my own way in this life and I don't plan on changin' now. Perhaps I'll have a bumper crop of honey this year and then I could make enough to pay for my own spectacles." She smiled reassuringly at them, but they both knew that Queenie made very little money from her honey—certainly not enough for spectacles.

"Come on, you two," she said. "Don't look so glum. I'm fine, really I am! Now sit down right here with me and enjoy some of this sunshine. Alf and Minnie took the children on a picnic today so I could have some time to tend to my bees without the children scaring them half to death!"

"Do you always talk to your bees, Queenie?" Abby asked.

"Oh, yes, of course, dear! They are smart creatures, bees. They get very upset if I don't speak to them every day. They like the sound of my voice—it keeps them calm."

"How did you learn so much about them?" Abby asked in wonderment as she examined the beehive and watched the little workers busily going to and fro.

"Well, my Grandmother Josephine taught me way back when I was a little girl. She could charm more honey out of bees than anyone I ever saw! She also taught me how to make lace. I never knew a more clever person than my grandmother, God rest her soul. I still miss her to this day."

Abby sighed. "I wish I had known my grandmother," she said wistfully. "My father's mother, that is. My papa says I look just like her!"

Queenie studied Abby's face. "Why, so you do! Your grandmother, Lady Midwinter, was the most beautiful woman I ever did see. What a picture she made when she rode about the countryside on horseback!"

"You knew my grandmother?" Abby asked.

"Oh, yes, I remember when your grandfather married her. Everyone was so charmed by her beauty and she was always so kind to all of us. But what about your grandmother on your mother's side, Abby? Don't you ever see her?"

Abby frowned. "Well, she lives so far away that I've only seen her a couple of times in my life. She's not like your grandmother, Queenie. All she cares about is whether I am sitting up straight or using the right fork at the dinner table. She's never shown me how to do anything interesting. I'll bet my other grandmother would have been so much more fun!"

Queenie patted Abby's hand. "Well, I never got to know my father's mother, either. I really know very little about her. She died before I was born, poor thing. All I know of her is the little miniature portrait my father passed on to me after he died. My father used to tell me how beautiful she was and that he was sure there was some mystery about her, but he never discovered what it was. He said he used to ask her about her family all the time, but she would never speak of them. She had the manners of a true lady so he was convinced she had once been a princess or other person of high birth before marrying my grandfather, who was a simple stonemason."

"She must have really loved your grandfather to have married him, then," Abby said, always warming to a good love story.

"Oh, yes, they were indeed in love. My father said that after my grandmother died my grandfather was never the same again. He couldn't accept that she had gone and would wander around the house crying out, "Clarrie, Clarrie, where are you?" Queenie shook her head sadly at the thought. "I know how he must have felt after losing my….child, what's the matter?"

Abby had gasped and squeezed Queenie's hand convulsively. "Queenie, what did you say your grandfather called your grandmother?"

"Why, he called her Clarrie. What's the matter, Abby? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Abby's heart had begun to pound in her chest and she covered her mouth with her hand, suddenly unable to speak.

Sydney jumped up and came over to her. "Abbs? Are you all right?"

Finally she nodded, even though she still looked in shock. "Queenie, do you still have that portrait of your grandmother?"

Queenie nodded, looking concerned and puzzled.

"May I see it, please?"

"Of course, child, let me find it for you."

Abby began to take deep breaths as Queenie went inside to look for the miniature portrait.

Sydney came and sat next to her. "Abby, what's this all about? Why are you so upset?"

Abby took another deep breath. "I'm not upset, Syd. I just need to find out if Clarrie is who I think she is."

Sydney was about to question her further, but Queenie had returned at that moment with something in her hand. "Here it is, Abby."

Abby took the little portrait in her hand and when she saw the familiar deep blue eyes and angelic blonde hair of Clarissa herself she couldn't help but burst into tears. She felt Queenie's arm go around her. "Abby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Abby tried to get herself under control. "Your grandfather's name…" she managed to choke out, "it was Gareth, wasn't it?"

Now it was Queenie's turn to look shocked. "Why, yes, child, it was. How did you know?"

"Oh, Queenie!" Abby cried. "There is something I need to show you!"

---

Abby would say nothing more on the way home except that she wanted her father to be there when she revealed her secret. Queenie was mystified as to what it could possibly have to do with her and her grandparents, but judging by Abby's reaction to hearing her grandmother's name and seeing her miniature portrait, she knew it had to be important.

Abby told Sydney to take them to the manor and upon reaching the entrance Abby ran inside and called out for her father. Dorcas came out of the parlour instead. "Abby, what's wrong? Why are you shouting so?"

"Oh, Ma, have you seen Papa? I have something very important to show you all. I've brought Queenie with me, too."

"Queenie? Abby, what is going on?" Dorcas asked with growing concern.

Right then Timothy popped his head out of his study. "Abigail, what on earth…"

"Papa! Please come with us, there is something you and Queenie need to see right away."

"Queenie!" Timothy exclaimed when he saw Sydney come in the door with Queenie leaning on his arm for support. "Are you all right? Would someone please tell me what is going on?"

"I wish I knew, Sir Timothy," Queenie replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Abby claims to have something very important to show me, but she wanted to be sure you were with us first."

All eyes then turned to Abby who was anxiously wringing her hands together. "Please, just come to my room with me and I'll show you."

Timothy and Sydney helped Queenie up the staircase with Dorcas right behind them, looking completely perplexed. After they had assembled in Abby's room, Abby took a deep breath to steady herself and then began to speak. "Papa, remember when you told Ben and me that there might be a hidden room somewhere in the manor?"

Timothy nodded. "Yes, but I always believed it to be just a tall tale."

Abby shook her head. "No, Papa, it wasn't a tall tale, the room really exists."

"How do you know it exists, Abigail?" Timothy asked, beginning to sound impatient.

"Because I found it… I found it right here in this room."

Timothy looked around the room with confusion. "What do you mean you found it in this room?"

"I'll show you." Abby lit a candle then walked over to the hidden door and grasped the keyhole with the pair of pliers she kept on the mantel. She heard them all gasp behind her when she pulled open the door.

Abby looked back at them. "I want Queenie to go in first," she said, beckoning to Queenie who looked at Timothy and Dorcas rather nervously.

Abby took Queenie's arm and led her into the secret room, taking her first to Clarissa's portrait where she held the candle up to it. "Queenie, this is Clarissa," Abby said softly. "Clarissa, this is your granddaughter, Queenie."

Queenie's hand flew to her mouth as she squinted up at the portrait, recognising her grandmother's features which were nearly identical to her miniature. "I don't understand," Queenie said with a shake of her head. "Why is there a portrait of my grandmother in this room?"

Timothy, Dorcas and Sydney had also made their way into the room and were now crowded behind them to see the portrait.

"I don't believe it," Timothy said quietly as he grasped Dorcas's arm for support. "I simply do not believe it. How is it possible that no one in my family knew this room was here?" He leaned closer to the portrait and read the nameplate on its frame, "Clarissa 1788. But who is Clarissa? I've never heard of anyone in my family by that name."

"She was your great grandfather Jamison's oldest sister," Abby explained, "but for some reason she was banished from the family and all traces of her existence were hidden away—even her bedroom."

"But how do you know all this, Abigail?" Timothy asked.

"I found letters that a man named Gareth wrote to Clarissa, or Clarrie, as he called her, hidden away in that desk over there. And then I found her name scratched out of our family Bible. She was the daughter of Lord Roderick and Lady Adrianna Midwinter. I think her father was trying to force her to marry a Duke, but she ran away instead. Her father must have been so angry that he boarded up her room and scratched out her name in the Bible."

"Incredible!" Timothy said, his gaze returning to the portrait. "But what makes you think this is Queenie's grandmother?"

Queenie turned to Timothy and held out the little miniature portrait that she still grasped in her hand. "This miniature is all that I have of my grandmother Clarrie. She married my grandfather Gareth. I'm afraid I don't know much more about her than that."

Timothy took the miniature and compared it to the portrait. "My God, I never knew. To think this poor girl was banished by her own family. I suppose everyone in the household was forbidden to speak of her ever again."

Dorcas stood next to Queenie, who was looking quite shaken, and put her arm around her. "Queenie, are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, dear, I'm fine. I'm just a bit in shock, that's all. My father always used to say that there was something mysterious about his mother, but she would never reveal anything of her past to him. Thanks to Abby, I now know her secret. I never would have dreamt that my grandmother was a Midwinter." She shook her head and suddenly looked close to tears.

Abby then came to Queenie and gave her a big hug. "Oh, Queenie, dear Queenie, don't you see? This means you're a Midwinter, too!"

---

They spent another hour or so exploring Clarissa's room. Queenie lovingly touched her grandmother's dresses and held her other belongings in her hands, marvelling at how they had been kept just as they were when her grandmother had lived there. "It's like reaching back through time, isn't it?" Queenie said reverently.

Timothy put his arm around his daughter. "Abigail, how on earth did you keep this a secret for so long?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Papa," Abby said. "I can't really explain why. I just felt that the mystery of this room was meant for me to solve before I could share it with anyone else. I think Clarissa wanted me to find her."

"My clever girl," Timothy said as he placed a kiss on top of her head, making her smile.

After they had thoroughly examined the hidden room, Timothy led them all downstairs to the parlour and Dorcas ordered tea to be brought in. Abby had brought down Gareth's letters to Clarissa and read them all out loud to everyone whilst they had their tea.

After she had finished reading, everyone remained silent until Timothy said rather bleakly, "So Clarissa went against her father's wishes and refused to marry the Duke of Wilmesbury. If he was anything like the current Duke of Wilmesbury then I don't blame her in the least. Horrible man, the Duke."

"No, she had the courage to marry for true love instead," Queenie said rather proudly. "I'm just sorry it cost her her family."

Timothy had unconsciously grasped Dorcas's hand. "I'm sorry, too. It must have been very difficult to go against her family's wishes."

"Well, thank goodness she did or else I wouldn't be here!" Queenie said, making everyone laugh.

"Queenie," Timothy said seriously, "I want to welcome you to my family. I'm so sorry your grandmother, my great-great aunt, was treated so badly by our ancestors. I know it was a long time ago, but I believe it's never too late to make amends. I want you to consider moving in with us here at the manor. This was once the home of your grandmother and you must consider it your home now, too. It would be a privilege to have you here with us."

"Oh, yes, please come live with us, Queenie!" Abby cried. "You could have Clarissa's room and be right next to me!"

Queenie smiled at them all. "Thank you, Sir Timothy, that is a most generous offer and I am most grateful. But my home is in Lark Rise—it was where I was born and it is where I plan to die. I am too old to uproot myself now, I'm afraid."

Timothy nodded. "I understand. Our door will always be open should you change your mind, though, Queenie. And any time you wish to visit your grandmother's room you must come and go as you please, understood?"

"That is most kind of you. Thank you, Sir Timothy. Well, I'd best be getting back home now. Alf and Minnie are probably wondering where I've gone off to! It's been an incredible afternoon. Thank you, Abby, for restoring my grandmother to me." She gave Abby a hug.

"I'll have my carriage take you home, Queenie," Timothy said as he rang the bell for his driver.

Just before he helped her into the carriage, Timothy said, "Queenie, surely there must be something that you need that I can provide for you. You are my family now and I don't want you to want for anything. I can have a new cottage built for you, servants, anything. It's the least I can do."

Queenie grasped his hands. "I appreciate the offer, Sir Timothy, but I don't want you to go to any trouble. Alf and Minnie have been taking good care of me. I am truly grateful for your kind offer, though." But before she got into the carriage, she hesitated and turned back to him. "There is one thing that you could do for me, Sir Timothy."

"Anything!" he replied.

"Well, Doctor Armstrong reckons that I could see well enough again if I had a proper pair of spectacles."

Timothy smiled happily at her. "Then a new pair of spectacles is exactly what you shall have!"

Later that night, after Abby was sound asleep, Timothy took a candle and quietly made his way into Clarissa's room by himself. He studied her portrait for a long time, understanding now why there was a hint of sadness about her eyes.

"I admire what you did, you know," he whispered softly to her. "I was in your shoes once, too, but you had the courage to follow your heart and marry for love despite the consequences. You were far braver than I ever was at your age."

Clarissa gazed benevolently down at him as he offered her a smile. "Welcome home, Clarissa."

Just before he blew out his candle, he could have sworn that the sadness suddenly left her eyes and, for just a moment, she smiled back at him.

---

"Well, Abigail," Timothy said to her the following day, "what shall we do with Clarissa's room now that we've found it? Would you like to leave it as it is or would you like me to have Mr Timmins come and remove the bricks that are covering her window? I will leave the decision up to you."

"Oh, Papa, let's uncover the window! I think Clarissa would like to know that her room is open to the outside world again," Abby replied.

Timothy nodded in agreement. "Then I shall send for Mr Timmins right away, darling."

Abby smiled happily and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Papa. And thank you for not being angry with me for not telling you about the secret room sooner."

"Well, I understand why you wanted to keep it to yourself for awhile. It was very sweet of you to include Queenie in the unveiling—I think it has given her something new to think about."

"Just think, Papa, Queenie is our cousin! Isn't it incredible that Clarissa turned out to be her grandmother?"

"Yes, it is, darling. Life is full of surprises!"

Robert Timmins arrived two days later with his chisels and other stonemason's tools and set about chipping out the bricks over Clarissa's window. Abby and Dorcas stood below him watching him work.

"I still can't get my head around Queenie's grandmother being a Midwinter!" Robert said to Dorcas as he chipped away.

"I think we're all still a bit shocked ourselves," Dorcas agreed. "I do hope Queenie is pleased with the discovery."

"Oh, she's plum chuffed all right," Robert laughed. "In any case, it seems to have taken her mind off of her troubles these past few days, which is a blessing."

"I'm so glad," said Dorcas. "I've been so worried about her ever since she lost Twister."

Robert nodded. "So have I, Dorcas, so have I. It's nice to see her taking an interest in something again—all thanks to Abby here for finding her grandmother's hidden room!"

Abby blushed with the praise. "Thank you, Mr Timmins, but it was Queenie telling me about her grandmother that really solved the mystery for me. Otherwise, I never would have known what became of Clarissa or who Gareth was!"

Robert shook his head sadly. "To think a man would lock his own daughter up and want to force her to marry a man she didn't love. It's barbaric the way these aristocrats treated their children—like human chattel!"

Dorcas couldn't disagree with him. "It certainly has been the cause of much heartache through the ages," she said, thinking of Timothy and how much pressure had been put upon him to marry within his class, leaving them both with broken hearts so many years ago.

"Well, my hat's off to Clarissa, that's for certain," Robert said. "Now there was a woman with real courage!"

Dorcas and Abby both nodded their heads in agreement.

After Robert had removed the last brick, Abby ran upstairs to Clarissa's room and was rewarded to find the room now bathed in the afternoon sun. Clarissa was even more beautiful in the sunlight as Abby gazed up at her.

Dorcas soon joined her and they explored the room once more now that they could see everything clearly in the light.

"I will send someone up to give this room a proper cleaning," Dorcas said as she observed the dust of ages still clinging to the walls.

"Please, Ma, can we keep all of Clarissa's things here in her room—her dresses and everything? I really want to keep it just as she left it. I think she would want me to keep it that way for her."

Dorcas smiled at her. "I think that is a fine idea, Abby."

When they left the room, Abby kept the door open and began to peel the wallpaper away from its surface. "This door doesn't need to be hidden anymore," she said to Dorcas.

The ancient wallpaper came away readily in long strips and once the door was stripped bare Abby stepped back to admire it before exclaiming, "Now, if only I could find its missing doorknob!"

A few weeks later, Minnie came rushing into the Post Office and gasped breathlessly, "Abby! Queenie sent me to find you. She wants you to come as soon as you can."

"What is it?" Abby cried. "Is Queenie all right?"

"Oh, yes, she's fine, well, I guess she's fine. She's really old so I'm sure there must be something wrong with her…."

"Minnie," Abby interrupted her, "why did Queenie send you to find me?"

"Oh, right!" Minnie stared for a moment as though trying to remember what brought her there. Abby rolled her eyes impatiently. "Oh, yes, I remember now. She said she found her grandparents' gravestones and wanted you to come see them."

"She did?" Abby said excitedly. "Oh, Syd, can I take your carriage to Lark Rise? I just have to see where Queenie's grandparents are buried!"

Sydney looked just as intrigued. "I'll take you there myself! Harry, you're in charge," he said to his employee as he herded the girls out the door.

Queenie looked excited as they arrived in Lark Rise. Abby noticed she was wearing her new spectacles.

"Queenie! Are you able to see better now?" she asked.

Queenie chortled with joy. "I see better now than I ever did! I feel as though my life has been restored to me, thanks to you." She gave Abby and Sydney each a hug.

"Now what's this about you finding your grandparents' graves?" Abby asked.

"Well, now, I was thinking back to when I was a little girl and I remembered my father taking my brother and me to a small cemetery just outside of Lark Rise and telling us that it belonged to our family. I knew it had to be not far from where my parents used to live so I had Alf take me out yesterday to look for it. It was so overgrown that we almost missed it, but Alf has keener eyes than I and spotted some of the gravestones sticking up above the weeds. Oh, child, when I saw their names upon the gravestones I just started to weep! I thought you might like to see them, too…to see where Clarissa was laid to rest."

"Oh, yes, Queenie, I would love to see them!"

With Queenie's guidance, Sydney found the little cemetery about a mile outside the hamlet. A small, crumbling stone wall bordered the little collection of grave markers which were weathered with age and tilting from years of shifting soil. Queenie led them to the centre and stopped in front of the largest of the gravestones. It had a square marble base and upon it stood a magnificent statue of an angel with its wings outstretched and its head bent in prayer. It had been so lovingly carved that Queenie believed her stonemason grandfather must have carved it himself. On its base was inscribed:

Here Lies My Angel Heart

Clarissa May Warrener

b. 12 April 1770 d. 16 May 1821

Beloved Wife and Mother

The light from my life is gone, the voice that I loved is stilled,

A place is now vacant in my heart that can never be filled.

Abby's eyes filled with tears as she read the inscription. Then she looked at the stone next to Clarissa's and saw that it belonged to Gareth Warrener, her husband, who had died just a year later.

Abby linked her arm through Queenie's and together they stood staring at the nearly forgotten graves, each saying a silent prayer for the two who lay beneath. Abby felt Sydney place his hand on her shoulder and when she looked up she saw that he, too, had tears in his eyes.

Afterwards, they spent a long time pulling the weeds away from Clarissa and Gareth's graves, vowing to return to restore the rest of the cemetery as soon as they could. Before they left, they gathered some wildflowers from the neighbouring field and placed them gently on top of the graves.

"Can you come back to the manor with me, Queenie?" Abby asked. "Mr Timmins uncovered Clarissa's window for us and I wanted you to see her room in the daylight."

"Of course, child, I would like that very much," Queenie replied.

Timothy saw them arrive and walked out to meet them. "Did you come to see what we did with Clarissa's room?" he asked his new cousin.

"I did indeed, Sir Timothy. And now that I have my new spectacles I'll be able to see my grandmother's portrait so much better!"

Queenie nearly started to cry again when she saw how beautiful Clarissa's portrait looked in the sunlight and how clean and bright the room now was. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed about the room in wonderment.

"Queenie, Papa, there is one more thing we need to do for Clarissa," Abby said to them.

"What would that be, Abigail?" her father asked.

"Come with me," she said. They followed her downstairs and into Timothy's study where Abby picked up the family Bible and brought it over to the desk. She opened the page to where Clarissa's name had been scratched out and Timothy, understanding now what Abby wanted to do, silently handed her his pen and then nodded to her.

Next to the scratched out name, Abby carefully wrote: Clarissa May Midwinter b. 12 April 1770 d. 16 May 1821. Then she gave the pen to Queenie and asked her to fill in her grandfather's name as Clarissa's husband and the names of their children. When she had finished, Timothy then took the pen from Queenie and at the bottom he added one more name: Victoria May "Queenie" Turrill.

Queenie turned to him with tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Sir Timothy."

Timothy kissed her gently on the cheek. "It was my pleasure, Cousin Queenie."

Chapter 5

After Queenie had gone home, Abby stood in Clarissa's room and stared out of the newly opened window, deep in thought. What kind of life had Clarissa endured here before she ran away? She wondered how Clarissa even met Gareth in the first place and how it was they fell in love. She imagined Gareth somehow climbing up to this very window and carrying his Clarissa down to freedom the night before she was to be wed to the Duke. How frightened the poor girl must have been, knowing her father could catch them at any moment!

Abby finally turned away from the window with a sigh. It was unlikely that she would ever know anything more about Clarissa's life and, besides, it was now time to return to her own.

As Abby made her way out of the room Clarissa's eyes appeared to follow her, and then time itself seemed to fade away to long ago….

Lord Roderick Midwinter was a hard man and an inveterate gambler. His wife, Lady Adrianna, bred for submission, kept quietly out of his way and turned a blind eye to his vices, as was expected of a proper wife. His children, for the most part, except for his eldest son and heir, Jamison, were sheltered from his harshness mainly due to the fact that he simply could not be bothered with them. It wasn't until his eldest child, Clarissa, had been presented to society, that he realised he might have a valuable asset on his hands. She was exceptionally beautiful and men of all ages and social standing began to take a very keen interest in her. Lord Roderick began to see a very advantageous marriage in the making—advantageous for him, of course.

Clarissa Midwinter had no idea of the future her father was plotting for her. Her life so far had been quiet and sheltered. She and her younger sister Mary were inseparable and they both had a passion for reading—especially the gentle romances of the day. She and Mary would spend many an afternoon giggling over what kind of man they hoped to marry, vowing only to marry for love so as not to end up as neglected and sad as their poor mother.

Neither girl yet realised that their choice of a husband was not to be theirs to make.

One day, Clarissa was taking a stroll through the small woods on her family's estate when she heard what sounded like a hammer upon stone. Curious, she ventured forth, following the sounds until she came upon the old stone archway that had stood in the woods for generations. A man knelt on the ground next to it and was chiselling away at a piece of stone. She was just about to turn around and leave, not wanting to disturb him, when he happened to look up and see her.

"Hello, there. Are you lost?" he asked kindly.

Clarissa shook her head. "No, sir, I was just taking a walk when I heard the sound of your chisel."

She turned away again, but his voice stopped her. "Wait, now that you have come, do you not want to know what I am doing here?"

She shook her head again, knowing she should not be engaging in conversation with a strange man, especially one to which she had not yet been properly introduced. But there was such gentleness in his smile and such a twinkling in his soft brown eyes as he regarded her, that she hesitated a moment longer.

He smiled and beckoned to her. "Come, let me show you."

She took a few cautious steps closer. "See this stone?" he said, pointing to the one he was working on. "It belongs up there." He then pointed up to the top of the archway.

"What has happened to it?" she asked, in spite of herself.

"Well, this old folly has been weakened through the years and when that tree over there fell down it knocked some of the stones loose. The lady of the manor has requested that it be repaired, although I don't know why—all that remains of the folly is this archway."

"Folly?" Clarissa said with puzzlement. "What is a folly?"

He smiled again and Clarissa found him quite handsome when he smiled. She found herself smiling back at him.

"A folly, my dear lady, is something that serves no purpose at all. It is merely a decoration in a rich man's garden. However, I suspect this particular folly was used as a meeting place for lovers."

Clarissa raised her eyebrows at him with surprise.

He laughed at her expression. "Oh, yes, a man might stand under this archway waiting for his true love to meet him under a full moon where he could woo her with fine words and silly poetry, or whatever else would win her heart."

"Silly poetry?" Clarissa said indignantly. "Poetry is not 'silly', sir. Poetry is the food of love!"

"The food of love, you say? So you are fond of poetry, are you?" he asked, his eyes now teasing.

"Of course! Are you not fond of it, too?"

"Oh, poetry is fine, I suppose. I prefer Shakespeare myself."

"You have read Shakespeare?" she asked incredulously, then immediately regretted her words, realising she might have insulted him.

He smiled indulgently at her. "I know I am just a stonemason, but I do know how to read, little lady. I am quite fond of it, actually."

Clarissa found herself blushing with embarrassment. "Forgive me, sir, I did not mean to imply…."

"Of course you did, but it is of no consequence," he said with a shrug. Suddenly, he turned and placed his hand upon his breast, looking up at the top of the archway as though seeing an invisible person, and cried out:

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!"

Then he scrambled up the archway, nimble as a cat, and peered over the top at Clarissa, who was looking up at him with astonishment, and raised his voice high like a woman's to imitate Juliet:

"Ay me!" he cried, making Clarissa giggle.

Then he scrambled down again and looked up once more:

"She speaks:
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air."

Back up to the top of the archway he went and peered down once more. Then, raising his voice high, with hands clasped to his heart, he fluttered his eyelids at her and cried:

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Clarissa could not stop herself from laughing out loud as he grinned cheekily down at her. "All right, all right, you have made your point. You do indeed know Shakespeare!" she said.

He jumped down and took a small bow whilst she applauded him. Then he held his hand out to her. "My name is Gareth, by the way."

She hesitated a moment before taking his hand, so highly irregular was it for her to be conversing with a man, much less a labourer, that she did not know what to do. But then he smiled so handsomely at her that she suddenly found her hand resting in his before she knew what she was doing. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss upon it. "And shall I know your name, fair maiden, or will you make me guess it?"

She blushed again, feeling the heat of his kiss still upon her hand. "My name is Clarissa."

"Clarissa..." he repeated slowly, as though enjoying the sound of it. "It is a beautiful name."

He kept hold of her hand a moment longer, not quite ready to relinquish it. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have the face of an angel, Clarissa?" he asked, his eyes holding fast to hers.

She shook her head then slowly pulled her hand away from his. "Well, I must be going now. It was nice to meet you, Gareth."

"The pleasure was all mine….Juliet," he replied, his eyes now twinkling again making her heart flutter in her chest.

She couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose you fancy yourself Romeo, then?"

He knelt down on one knee and clasped his hands in front of him, calling out:

"Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

She shook her head and continued to laugh as she walked away, turning back once to wave goodbye to him. He returned her wave, then stood there watching after her long after she was out of sight.

---

The next day, Clarissa ventured down to the woods again and once more heard the sound of Gareth hammering upon stone. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as she crept silently closer, hiding behind one of the trees where she peered from behind and watched him work. The day was unusually warm and Gareth stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. She noticed that he looked exhausted and heard him give a great sigh as he regarded the work he still had left to do on the folly. Her heart went out to him, wanting to help him in some way, so after thinking for a bit she ran back to the manor and into its large kitchen. There she found a basket and filled it with half a chicken, a slab of bread with cheese, two apples and a large slice of cake that had been left over from last night's dessert. Then she found a large flask and filled it with Cook's freshly made lemonade. Satisfied with her booty, she ran back to the woods.

Gareth looked up from his work and his tired face lit up when he saw her. "A sight for sore eyes you are, beautiful Clarissa," he said to her, making her blush.

"I…I thought you might be hungry," she said, suddenly feeling very shy under the effects of his devastatingly handsome smile.

"Ah, not only the face of an angel, but the heart of an angel as well," he said appreciatively as he took the basket and flask from her. He gestured to one of the stones. "Please sit and eat with me, won't you?"

"Oh, no, there is just enough for you, I will have my lunch later," she replied.

Gareth peered into the basket. "There is enough for three of me!" he laughed. "Come, sit, or I won't eat a bite."

Clarissa sighed and obliged him by sitting down on one of the stones where he then sat beside her. He finally talked her into taking at least one of the apples before he began to tuck in himself. "This is delicious, thank you!" he said as he devoured the chicken. "Where did you get such a bounty?"

"Why, from the kitchen, of course," she said as she nodded her head towards the manor.

He looked at her fine dress and shoes and then looked puzzled. "You cannot possibly be one of the servants, can you?" he asked.

Clarissa laughed. "No, silly, I live at the manor. My father is Lord Roderick."

Something flashed behind his eyes, but his voice remained neutral. "Lord Roderick's daughter…" A tiny crease appeared on his forehead between his eyes. "Well, Princess, I'm not so sure you should be here with me. I don't want you to get into trouble with your father."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, he won't know I am here, he never pays any attention to what I do. And I am not a princess."

Gareth grunted. "I'm not so sure about that...your father, I mean."

Clarissa looked down at her hands. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked.

"Of course not! What I don't want is the wrath of Lord Roderick upon my head—or upon yours, dear Angel Heart."

She blushed again at the endearment. "He won't know, I promise. Besides, no one knows I am here, not even Mary."

"Mary?"

"My younger sister. She is having her music instruction at the moment."

"Oh, I see." He nodded and then gave her an amused look as he whispered conspiratorially to her, "So this is a clandestine meeting between us, is it?"

She found herself blushing deeply. "Of course not! I merely saw a man in dire need of refreshment and have given him relief, nothing more!"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "No, I think you like me and wanted to see me again."

"I…I…neither like nor dislike you, sir. I haven't given you any thought at all!" she exclaimed, looking ruffled.

He chuckled as he nudged her shoulder with his own. "You are a terrible liar, Princess."

He looked so smug that she wanted to slap him, but his smile once again made her heart do a little flip and she found herself smiling back at him. "You are incorrigible," she said as she shook her head at him.

He laughed, then reached into the basket and broke off a piece of the cake and held it out to her. "Have some," he said.

She shook her head, but he held it closer to her mouth. "I insist."

She found herself looking into his eyes as she ate the cake from his fingers. Something passed silently between them then and the teasing look suddenly left his face. His eyes drifted down to her lips until suddenly he stood up and busied himself finding a rag with which to wipe his hands.

Then he helped her to her feet. "Well, dear Clarissa, I think I should be getting back to work now and you should be returning home before you are missed."

"If that is what you wish," she said, feeling the sting of being dismissed.

"It is what is best," he said as he handed her the basket and flask. "Thank you for the food."

She looked rather forlornly at him. "Well, goodbye, then, Gareth," she said.

"Goodbye, Angel Heart."

He watched her leave with a heavy heart.

---

The following day, Gareth half hoped and half feared that Clarissa would come to visit him again, but she did not. He found himself feeling disappointed, but he knew it was for the best. A stonemason had no business with the daughter of a man such as Lord Roderick. It was unheard of! The only thing that could come of it was heartbreak for both of them. No, he must get any foolish notion he had of her out of his head once and for all and focus on his work. Once he was finished he could then move on and Clarissa Midwinter would become nothing more than a distant memory. What a shame, for if circumstances had been otherwise, he was sure he had found in her a soul mate.

Clarissa stood in her bedroom staring out the window which faced towards the woods. She fought the urge to see Gareth again after the way he had dismissed her the previous day. She understood why he had done so, but it still stung nonetheless. She didn't understand why they couldn't at least be friends, though. No one would ever need to know!

Her hands gripped the windowsill as her feet itched to run down the stairs and out the door, but her head kept her in place. She strained her ears and could swear she could hear the clink of his chisel against the stones. She longed to see his beautiful smile again and the way his eyes twinkled as he teased her. And she loved the way he made her laugh.

"Clarrie, what are you doing?" The sound of her sister's voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Hmmm?" she replied as she reluctantly turned away from the window.

"I asked you what you were doing. You looked as though you were a million miles away."

"I'm sorry, Mary, I was just daydreaming, that's all."

"About what?" Mary asked as she flounced upon her sister's bed.

"Nothing, darling."

Mary then got up again and stood next to her sister. "Well, then what were you smiling at as you looked out the window?"

"Nothing, nosy-rosy!" Clarissa laughed at her sister's persistence. She wanted to tell Mary about Gareth, but something told her not to…not just yet.

"Fine, don't tell me, then," Mary said with a pout.

"Oh, come now, Mary, there is nothing to tell!"

"Sure there isn't. Anyway, I came to see if you wanted to go riding with me, but if you'd rather stand there and daydream about nothing, then…"

"I would love to go riding with you. Just give me a minute to change my clothes."

Mary smiled at her. "Good! I'll meet you down at the stables!"

Clarissa was glad for the distraction as it kept her mind off of Gareth. Mary challenged her to a race to the large old oak tree off in the distance and their laughter rang across the countryside as they chased each other.

Gareth heard their laughter and looked up in time to see both girls racing past the woods. His heart leapt when he saw how magnificent and confident Clarissa looked upon her beautiful Arabian with her long blonde hair streaming out behind her.

Yes, he thought sadly, she was meant for this life of privilege. He couldn't possibly have anything to offer her. He went back to his work with a sigh.

The next day Clarissa once again found herself staring out of her window towards the woods and this time her feet won out over her head. "I'll just sneak over there and watch him work. He won't even know I'm there!" she told herself.

She ran down to the woods and then crept silently up to the biggest tree so she could hide behind it. His back was to her as he chiselled away at another stone. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and she was admiring his broad back and the way the muscles in his forearms bulged as he worked, when she accidently stepped upon an old stick which, of course, let out a large crack. She winced and saw his back tense before she slipped back behind the tree and held her breath, praying he wouldn't investigate where the sound came from. For some reason, she kept her eyes tightly closed, as though it could render her invisible, and she heard him softly shift his weight on the ground where he stood. Then there was silence. When she heard no sound of him approaching, she finally let out her breath and opened her eyes—then nearly screamed out loud when she saw him standing right next to her, staring at her with his arms crossed in front of him.

"Are you spying on me, Princess?" he asked, trying hard not to smile.

"N-No, of course not! I-I was just wanting to see how the folly was coming along!" she stammered, her face now beet red.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "It is rather hard to see when you are hiding behind a tree with your eyes closed, is it not?" His eyes were teasing and she suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach.

"I-I didn't want to disturb you," she said lamely.

"Come on," he said as he took her hand. "I'll show you what I've done so far." He led her to the folly and she could see how he had repaired all the stones above the archway and was working on the few along the right hand side.

"It looks wonderful!" Clarissa exclaimed.

"Thank you." Gareth gave her a little bow as he looked proudly upon his work. "It wasn't easy getting those heavy stones up there on my own."

Clarissa shook her head. "I don't know how you do it. Who taught you to be a stonemason, Gareth?"

"My father. I worked with him since I was a little boy. He taught me everything I needed to know." He picked up one of his chisels. "These were his tools."

"Does your father no longer work with you?" she asked.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. "No, he died last year," he said quietly.

Clarissa's hand touched his forearm. "Oh, I'm sorry, Gareth."

He nodded his head, relishing the feel of her hand upon his arm. Then the twinkle came back into his eyes. "How would you like to learn how to chisel?" he asked her.

Her eyes opened wide. "Me? Oh, I don't think…"

"Sit down right here," he said, ignoring her protests. He had her straddle a log that he was using as a makeshift table and placed an old broken stone in front of her. He placed the chisel in her left hand and the hammer in her right. Then he sat right behind her and put his arms around her, placing his hands over her own to show her how to hold the tools correctly. To feel him so close to her like that caused her breathing to stop and her heart to pound in her chest.

"Now, hold the chisel at an angle like that and give it a quick but firm tap with the hammer like this." He guided her hand to hit the chisel and a small flake of stone flew off. He did it again and then had her try it by herself. She felt shaky as she tried to copy his movements, but was rewarded when a flake of stone broke off in a perfect line.

Gareth laughed. "See? It's not so hard. You're a natural!"

She continued to pound more of the stone away and occasionally his hands would cover hers again to show her another technique. She found she was actually enjoying chiselling stone—it was fun! But every time his chest touched her back as he guided the tools in her hands she became lightheaded and breathless. As though no longer in control of her own body, she leaned back against him and rested her head against his neck.

His hands, still upon her own, suddenly stilled for a moment and then they slowly slid up her forearms, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his callused hands. He bent his head down next to hers and breathed in the sweet scent of her, wanting desperately to kiss her creamy white neck that lay exposed to him. His desire almost got the best of him, but he suddenly realised what he was doing and quickly leaned away from her before standing up and moving a few steps back. Clarissa shook her head as though waking herself from a dream and looked up at him.

"Lesson's over for today," he said, trying to smile. "I think I'd better get back to work now."

He reached down and took the tools from her hands and then helped her to her feet.

"Gareth, I…" she began, but he stopped her.

"I had better not show you anymore or you will be wanting my job for yourself!" He tried to laugh, but his voice came out sounding ragged. "Well, good day to you, Princess." He turned his back to her as he set about getting to work, leaving Clarissa feeling close to tears.

"Good day, Gareth. Thank you for the lesson," she whispered before quickly walking away.

Gareth sat there a long time, waiting for the trembling in his hands to stop before he could begin working again. Letting her go was going to be much harder for him than he thought.

---

Gareth had nearly finished his work on the folly and had but one piece of stone left to place. He was glad to be finishing at the Midwinter estate. If he stayed any longer he knew his heart would be in grave danger of being lost forever to the one woman he knew he could never have. Perhaps it was already too late, for deep down he knew he already loved her.

He had just found the final stone to be placed when he heard someone approaching. His heart squeezed in his chest knowing it must be Clarissa, but when he looked up he was surprised to see it was her mother instead.

"Lady Adrianna," he said as he bowed to her.

She nodded to him. "Mr Warrener, I have come to see my folly."

"It shall be finished today, My Lady," he said.

She swept past him and gazed appreciatively at the newly repaired archway. "You have surpassed my expectations, Mr Warrener," she said as she lovingly touched the strange little structure. "I had feared I had lost it forever after this last storm."

He bowed his head again. "Thank you, My Lady. It has been an honour to restore it for you."

Gareth watched as she walked around the archway and for a moment she seemed to be lost in another world. He could see now where Clarissa had inherited her beauty for Lady Adrianna was simply breathtaking. Not yet forty years of age, she appeared so youthful that she could have passed for Clarissa's older sister. She had a regal air about her carriage, but her face was kind and he sensed she was a gentle soul, just as her daughter was. He suddenly felt himself emboldened to ask something that had been puzzling him ever since he began the work.

"Lady Adrianna, forgive me for being so bold, but may I ask you a question?"

She drew herself away from her memories and regarded him with Clarissa's same wide blue eyes, causing his stomach to do a little flip. "You may. However, whether I choose to answer it or not is another matter."

"Of course, My Lady," Gareth replied, trying not to smile. "I was just wondering why you wanted me to repair this old folly. I mean, it is just an archway now in the middle of the woods with no practical purpose."

She stared at him for a long moment whilst she considered his question until he feared she would never answer him at all. Finally, she directed her gaze back to the folly and placed her palm against it. "Mr Warrener, have you ever known a place, a very special place, where you could say you had, if only for a brief moment, experienced true happiness?"

He thought of his moment with Clarissa when he had sat with his arms around her, guiding her hands as they carved the stone together, and nodded his head. "Yes, My Lady, I have known such a place."

She smiled at him. "Then you have your answer."

She walked past him then, but before she left she stopped and turned back to him. "Please speak to our steward before you leave. If I am not mistaken, our chapel is in need of some repair as well. He will give you the details."

Gareth bowed once more. "Thank you, Lady Adrianna, I will." His heart sank as he had hoped to leave this place once and for all to avoid the temptation that wore the face of an angel. But he could not deny Lady Adrianna anything that she asked of him. Nor could he pass up the extra income. He looked up at the sky as though praying for strength and then went back to his work.

Lady Adrianna looked radiant as she walked back to the manor. Despite the fact that her marriage was a loveless misery, she had one perfect memory that had kept her going through her darkest days and a secret that she would never share with another soul…that her youngest child, Randolph, was not Lord Roderick's.

Gareth sighed heavily as he gazed at the last piece of stone. Its irregular shape seemed to speak to him and an image began to form in his artistic mind—an image that was hiding in the stone all along, just waiting to be discovered. He smiled as the image was made clear to him. It was of a face—the most beautiful face he had ever seen. He searched his bag for his finest chisels and then set about freeing the image from the stone.

Clarissa had kept her distance from the woods for nearly two days, so hurt was she by Gareth pushing her away again during their last encounter. She knew there was something special between them—she had never felt anything so strongly before! And she knew that he felt it, too. Why should it matter that she was the daughter of a Lord and he was a stonemason? If two people loved each other then why on earth should they not be together? Love. There, she had said it. She was in love with Gareth and she knew he had feelings for her, too.

She could not stay away any longer—she had to know what he felt for her before she went mad!

She made her way down to the woods and when she failed to hear the familiar sounds of him working she feared he had gone away. But no, he was sitting on the log, working quietly. At the sound of her footsteps he grabbed a rag and quickly covered whatever he was working on before jumping to his feet.

"Clarissa, I didn't expect to see you today," he said rather breathlessly.

"Hello, Gareth. I'm sorry to interrupt your work, but I…I wanted to speak to you." She looked curiously at whatever was covered up by the rag and then saw him move as though to block her view.

"What are you hiding, Gareth?"

"Hiding? I am hiding nothing, Princess."

"Yes, you are, and please stop calling me that—I am not a princess!"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Oh, but you will be one day. I think it best I get used to calling you by your future title now."

"Don't be ridiculous—I have no intention of marrying a prince!" she exclaimed. "Now, show me what you are hiding."

He folded his arms across his chest. "I will not. You will just have to wait until I'm finished," he said stubbornly.

"Fine." She turned away, pretending to have lost interest, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eye. Just as he appeared to have relaxed his guard she tried to dart around him towards the log, but he was too quick for her. He grabbed her around her waist and held her fast.

"Oh, no you don't, Princess."

The glare she gave him made him laugh, which only fueled her indignation.

"Let go of me!" she said as she struggled in his grip.

"No, not until you promise to behave yourself," he said as though speaking to a wayward child.

"Why won't you let me see it?"

"Because, it's a surprise and it's not quite ready for you to see." He gave her a little tap on the end of her nose. "Now, be a good little girl and run along."

He let go of her, but she didn't move away from him. "Gareth…" she said, placing a hand on his chest, her eyes now serious as she looked up at him. "I need to know something."

He felt his heart begin to race at her touch and he fought to keep his voice steady. "What do you need to know, Clarrie?"

She smiled inwardly to hear him call her by the nickname that Mary always used for her. It proved they were becoming closer.

"The other day, there was…there was a moment between us, wasn't there? Please, tell me I didn't imagine it."

He looked down, unable to hold her gaze any longer. He knew he should deny it and let her go so she could forget about him. But try as he might, he couldn't lie to her. "Yes." His voice came out in a whisper. "Yes, there was."

Clarissa felt a thrill run through her. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?"

When he looked back up at her she could see his eyes were tortured. "Because, my dear Angel Heart, we can never be. We come from two very different worlds—worlds that are never supposed to meet. You are the daughter of an aristocrat, and I am the son of a simple labourer. Your father would forbid you even to speak to me, much less fall in…." He stopped and looked away again, then slowly pulled her hand away from his chest. "Your father will see to it that you marry within your own class. You must marry a man who can give you the life you are used to having—that you were born to. You must put any foolish notion you have of me out of your head once and for all."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "No! Don't say that, Gareth! I don't care about class or money or living in a grand house. All I want is someone good and kind and strong to love who will love me back. I don't care where I live as long as I can have that."

His eyes hardened. "You say that now, but you have no idea what it's like to go without; to worry about where your next meal is coming from, or whether you will have enough money to keep a roof over your head. You have no idea!" He turned away from her and began to pick up his tools.

"Gareth, please, I love you!" She began to cry and he felt his heart breaking knowing he was the cause of her tears. He couldn't help going to her and pulling her into his arms.

"Shhh, you mustn't say that, dear Clarrie," he said as he held her head to his chest and stroked her silken hair. "You mustn't say that because it would be impossible for us to be together. It really is for the best that we say goodbye to each other now. One day you will understand why."

She raised her tear-stained face to him. "Understand? You mean understand why my mother married within her class only to be neglected and unloved by my father? To live a life where I cry myself to sleep every night like she does? Is that the life I'm supposed to have, Gareth?"

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. Her mother had spoken of being truly happy at the folly and he had assumed it was a special place for her and Lord Roderick. He must have assumed wrong.

Clarissa was sobbing now and suddenly pulled away from him. "I don't want that life! If that is the only life I am allowed to have then I don't want to live at all!"

She turned then and ran off deeper into the woods.

"Clarissa, wait!"

He took off after her knowing it was getting dark and she could easily get lost. She was fast, though, and had already disappeared from his sight. He kept on running, becoming more frantic to find her with every step, all the while chastising himself for having allowed things to progress this far between them. He never meant to fall in love with her or make her fall in love with him. It had just happened.

"Clarissa!" he yelled out again and again. Finally, he came upon her where she had collapsed on the ground in tears.

"Clarissa!" he cried, kneeling down beside her and gathering her to him. "Oh, my angel, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Please forgive me, dear Clarrie."

He lifted her face and wiped away her tears with his thumbs and then, when he looked into her eyes and saw how they were filled with such pain and with such love, he knew his heart no longer belonged to him.

"God forgive me," he whispered as his mouth crushed against her own.

---

They continued to kiss until their lips were sore, neither willing to break away from the other. It was all Gareth could do to keep himself from making love to her right then and there, knowing it would only push them both past the point of no return.

Night began to fall around them and with great reluctance he reached up and gently removed her arms from around his neck. "We need to get you home before someone comes looking for you," he said, his voice now deep and husky.

She moaned in protest and buried her face in his chest. "Why can't we stay here like this forever?"

He kissed the top of her head. "How I wish we could, my love," he whispered. "Come, I will see you home safely."

As they walked back to the folly, which now stood ghost-like in the twilight, Gareth could only worry about what would happen next. What a muddle he had got himself into; an impossible situation where he was desperately in love, knowing he would never be allowed to marry her.

They moved to the edge of the woods where the manor now stood in view. "I'll watch you from here until you are home," he said.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked, her eyes beginning to fill with tears at the thought of parting from him.

He kissed her again and then held her face in his hands. "Yes, you will see me tomorrow, my angel. Now go, whilst I still have the strength to let you go."

She gave him one last look of longing before making her way home.

Clarissa began to run the rest of the way, eager now to find Mary and confess all to her. It was unlike her to keep secrets from her beloved sister, but this was now too big to keep to herself. She rushed through the door only to encounter her mother standing at the foot of the stairs, blocking her way.

"Where have you been, Clarissa?" Adrianna demanded. She stood quite still with her hand upon the banister as she stared at her daughter.

"Mama! I…I've just been out walking," she stammered.

"All this time?" she asked dubiously.

"Yes, Mama, the weather was so beautiful today I couldn't waste a moment of it." Clarissa gave her a weak smile.

Her mother's perceptive gaze did not miss the kiss-swollen lips. "Were you alone during this walk of yours, daughter?"

Clarissa fought to keep her eyes on her mother's. Inside her heart began to quake. "Yes, Mama, I was all alone."

Adrianna continued to stare at her unwaveringly until Clarissa saw a muscle jump in her cheek. Finally, her mother broke her gaze and looked aside. "Very well," she said quietly. "Go and change your clothes. Dinner is almost ready."

"Yes, Mama." Clarissa hurried past her mother with a sigh of relief and then burst into Mary's bedroom.

"Clarrie! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Mary exclaimed. Clarissa grabbed her sister's arm and dragged her down the hallway to her own bedroom where she quickly closed the door behind her.

"Oh, Mary, I have so much to tell you!" she cried.

"What? What is it?" Mary asked anxiously.

"Oh, my dear sister, I am in love!"

"In love?" Mary gasped. "What do you mean you are in love? With whom could you possibly be in love?" Mary searched her memory, trying to remember any men they had recently come in contact with. She could think of no one and it had been ages since they last attended a ball.

Seeing her sister's confused expression, Clarissa took her face in her hands and laughed. "It's no one you know, darling. It's just been so unexpected!"

"Clarrie, if you don't explain yourself right now I think I am going to start screaming and I don't think I'll be able to stop!"

"All right, all right! His name is Gareth and he is a stonemason. I met him down in the woods where he was repairing the old stone archway. You remember, the one we always used to play around and pretend was a doorway to another world?"

"A stonemason! Clarrie, have you lost your mind? Papa will never let you marry a stonemason!"

Clarissa's smile dimmed a bit. She had expected Mary's full support and didn't want to be reminded of what her father might have to say about it.

"Mary, please, I don't care. I love him and he loves me. That is all that matters to me."

"Oh, Clarrie." Mary looked sadly at her sister. "Are you sure? Completely sure?"

Clarissa nodded. "Yes, dear, I am sure. Come now, you and I always said we would only marry for love, remember?"

"Yes, but…"

"But what?"

"But what will you do if Papa refuses to let you marry him?"

"Well, then I guess I shall have to run away," she said resolutely.

Mary was silent for a moment, digesting all that Clarissa had told her, and then she began to smile in spite of her misgivings. "Is he very handsome?"

Clarissa squealed and hugged her sister. "Oh, Mary, he is the handsomest man I have ever laid eyes on! He is tall and strong, with dark brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes. And when he smiles…" Clarissa began to twirl around the room, hugging her arms to herself. "His smile lights up my world, Mary. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"

Mary began to giggle. "Has he kissed you yet?" she asked slyly.

Clarissa arched an eyebrow at her. "What do you think we've been doing all afternoon?"

"Clarissa!" Mary shrieked, causing Clarissa to clamp a hand over her sister's mouth.

"Shhh! No one must hear us! Mama and Papa cannot know!"

"I'm sorry," Mary whispered. "But I want to meet Gareth! When can I meet him?"

"All in good time, dear sister, all in good time."

Both sisters began to giggle again as they hugged each other tight. They did not hear the footsteps that quickly retreated from outside the bedroom door.

---

The next morning Gareth found the steward of Candleford Manor in his office which was attached to a small cottage on the grounds. The man seemed to be expecting him.

"Ah, you must be Mr Warrener," he said as he extended his hand to Gareth. "My name is Stevens. You come highly recommended by Her Ladyship."

Stevens was a tall imposing-looking man who appeared to be somewhere in his forties. He was well dressed, even for a steward, with dark hair peppered with grey and eyes that projected a keen intelligence. Gareth took an instant liking to him.

"Thank you, Mr Stevens. I am most indebted to Her Ladyship. She told me you had some work to be done on the chapel?"

"Yes. Come, I will show you."

Stevens led him a short way from the manor to a small stone building that looked as though it pre-dated the manor itself. The elements over the centuries had definitely taken its toll upon one side of the structure in particular which had endured the worst of the weathering. Gareth placed his hand upon the wall as he studied it.

"It's an easy fix, Mr Stevens, but may take a few weeks and I will need to go home first and retrieve more of my tools before I can begin."

Stevens nodded and Gareth gave him a list of supplies and how much stone he would need which Stevens promised to have delivered immediately.

"Since you will be here for awhile, Mr Warrener, there is room in my cottage for you to stay if it would suit you."

Gareth found himself glancing over at the manor before extending his hand to Stevens with a smile. "Thank you. It would suit me just fine."

With that now settled, Gareth returned to the folly where he had placed the final stone—a decorative stone which was given a place of honour at the peak of the archway—and waited for Clarissa to find him.

It wasn't long before he heard her light footsteps approaching and he eagerly took her into his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless.

"What took you so long?" he growled as he pulled her closer to his body and placed his forehead against hers.

She smiled. "I was busy making you this lunch!" she said, holding up the basket she had brought.

He laughed. "I love how you are always feeding me."

They sat side-by-side on the log and ate their lunch together. After they had finished, Clarissa looked up at the folly and noticed the top of the archway was covered with a large rag.

"Is that what you were hiding from me yesterday?" she asked.

"Yes, it is," he replied. "Now, close your eyes…no peeking!" He reached up and pulled the rag away from the stone. "You can open your eyes now."

Clarissa gasped when she saw the stone. It was carved with the face of an angel that had flowing hair and delicate wings on either side of it. Clarissa's hand flew to her mouth as she realised the angel's face was her very own.

"Oh, Gareth, it's so beautiful!" she exclaimed softly.

He stood next to her and put his arm around her. "I am glad you like it."

"Like it? I love it! And I love you!" She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I love you, too, my dear Angel Heart," he whispered as he kissed her back.

They stood there a long time in each other's arms until he had to reluctantly pull away. "I'm afraid I must leave you for a day or so, my darling," he said.

"Oh, no!" she cried.

"Don't worry, I'll be back. I have just been commissioned to repair your family's chapel so I must go home and retrieve more tools and supplies. The steward is allowing me to stay in his cottage for the duration of the work."

She placed a hand on his cheek and arched an eyebrow at him. "Then you must work slowly so you can stay here as long as possible."

His eyes twinkled at her. "Well, I am a perfectionist, you know. I will take as much time as needed to get each and every stone just right—which could be a very long time indeed."

She laughed and then kissed him again. "Go quickly, then, and hurry back. I will be waiting for you."

"I will. Goodbye for now, my love."

"Goodbye, my love," she echoed as she kissed him once more. Then he gathered his things and walked quickly away. Clarissa stood watching after him until he was long out of sight.

The next day Clarissa was just about to go for a late afternoon walk when the butler handed her a letter. "This just arrived in the post for you, Miss Clarissa," the butler said with a bow.

"Oh, thank you, Hopkins." She eagerly took the letter and rushed outside with it. A smile spread over her face as she tore open the envelope and read its contents:

My Dearest One,

I have begun this letter not five minutes from returning home, so eager am I to speak to you again. Enchantress! You have cast a spell over me and have become the only object in my World and Heavens.

I cannot wait to see your sweet face once more. I will find you tomorrow, for to wait a moment longer would be the cruelest agony.

Sleep well, my Angel Heart, my dearest Clarrie!

Yours most faithfully,

G

Clarissa hugged the letter to her heart, her mind filled only with thoughts of him as she walked down to the folly and lovingly ran her hands over the stones he had carved and replaced. Tomorrow seemed an eternity away!

Her mother was waiting for her once again when she arrived back at the house.

"Out walking again, Clarissa?" she asked.

"Yes, Mama. Were you looking for me?"

"Yes, I was. The Duke of Wilmesbury has invited us to a ball on Thursday night. I wanted to make sure your new gown still fitted you properly."

"Oh, Mama, must I go?" she said with despair, not wanting to miss a moment with Gareth.

Lady Adrianna raised her eyebrows at her daughter. "Since when do you not want to attend a ball? You and Mary used to speak of nothing else!"

"I know, Mama, it's just that I am not much in the mood for a ball right now."

"Well, daughter, you have no choice. It would be an insult to the Duke to turn down his invitation. Besides, you are eighteen years old now and it is time we found you a husband. With your beauty you should have no trouble making a very fine match."

Clarissa felt her heart drop and her stomach twist in a knot. She hadn't considered the fact that her parents would be playing matchmaker for her since they rarely paid any attention to her before. How was she going to avoid it now?

"Mama, I don't want a 'fine match'. I want only to marry for love," she said resolutely.

Adrianna regarded her almost sadly. "Oh, child, I can see I have failed you—failed to prepare you for the reality of life. Men and women of our standing do not marry for love. Love is a luxury we cannot afford. You must marry a man of equal or better standing and for the benefit of both families. Your father and I will see to it that we find you such a man."

Seeing the stricken look on her daughter's face, Lady Adrianna tried to soften her words. "There is always a chance you will come to love the man we choose for you, Clarissa."

"Like the way you love Papa?" Clarissa countered.

Adrianna's eyes hardened. "You are to try your gown on immediately, Clarissa. You must look your best for this ball." With that she turned on her heel and marched up the stairs.

As soon as her mother was satisfied with the gown fitting, Clarissa sought out Mary, who was in her room trying on her own gown for the ball.

"Oh, Mary, I don't want to go to this ball! Mama says they are hoping to find me a husband there."

Mary squeezed her hand sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Clarrie, I know you have your heart set on marrying Gareth. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know!" she cried. "The only thing I can think to do is be so disagreeable to every man they introduce me to that none will take any interest in me at all."

"Now there is an idea!" Mary couldn't help but laugh. "Although Mama will be so angry!"

Clarissa sat down on Mary's bed with a loud sigh. "I wish Gareth were here so I could speak to him about this."

"Where has he gone?" Mary asked.

"He had to go home for supplies. He won't be back until tomorrow."

Mary sat down beside her. "What do you think he will say?"

"He won't be happy about it, I know that for certain," Clarissa replied gloomily.

Mary took her hand again. "Try not to worry, Clarrie. It's just one ball. Perhaps no one will even notice you there!"

Clarissa kissed her sister's hand. "Thank you, Mary. At least you will be there with me, dear sister."

"Of course I will! We will fight the men off together!" she exclaimed as she gave her sister a hug.

---

As soon as Gareth had returned, Clarissa met him down at the folly and poured her fears out to him concerning the ball. He took her in his arms and held her tight, trying to calm her. "Don't worry so, dear heart. It is just one ball! It will be over and done with before you know it," he said soothingly.

"But my mama said that I must marry for the benefit of the family and that I will have no choice," she said sadly. "I think they plan to find a husband for me at this ball tomorrow night."

Gareth took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "My dear Angel Heart, you always have a choice. Your parents can find all the husbands they want for you, but you are only going to marry one man and that man is me."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Are you asking me to marry you, Gareth?"

"Yes, if you will have me! I know I don't deserve you and I have nothing but my love to offer you, but…"

She interrupted him with a kiss that took his breath away. "Yes, oh yes, I will marry you! Your love is all I will need to be happy!"

He hugged her tight as he whispered in her ear, "Are you sure, Clarrie? Really sure?"

"Yes, Gareth, I have never been more sure about anything in my whole life. Let us go now before anyone can stop us!"

Gareth laughed. "Slow down, my angel, if we are to marry without your parent's permission we will have to run away to Gretna Green and I need to finish this job here first so I will have enough money to take you there."

"Gretna Green?"

"Yes, it is just over the border in Scotland. We cannot marry here without your parent's permission because you are not yet twenty-one years of age. In Scotland we can marry without such restrictions."

"Oh, I see," she said, looking worried. "Still, I can get the money we need, Gareth! We need not have to wait!"

He held her arms firmly. "No, my darling, I will find the money. You let me worry about that. In the meantime, go along with your parents to the ball tonight and try not to despair."

"All right, Gareth," she said with a nod. Then she laughed and flung her arms around him once more. "You have made me so happy, my dearest!" she cried. "I cannot wait to become your wife!"

The night of the ball arrived and Lady Adrianna rushed about making sure both girls looked their best.

"You look too pale, Mary," her mother fussed. "Pinch your cheeks like this to put some colour into them. There, that's better. Stand up straight, Clarissa. We want everyone to notice how tall you are!"

Mary and Clarissa exchanged glances and rolled their eyes behind their mother's back. Neither of them was looking forward to the long carriage ride to Wilmesbury where the Duke resided.

Before they went downstairs, Clarissa pulled Mary aside and told her about Gareth's proposal. She again had to clamp her hand over her sister's mouth as she could see Mary was about to squeal with excitement.

"Shhh! Mama and Papa must not find out or they will stop us!" Clarissa whispered.

"But what if they find a husband for you before you can leave?" Mary asked.

"Well, then, we'll just have to run off sooner, that's all," Clarissa replied.

"Oh, Clarrie! I'm so happy for you, but I don't want you to run away forever! I couldn't stand to be without my sister!"

"Don't worry, Mary, we will find a way to see each other."

Their father scarcely glanced at them as they travelled across the countryside. He was thinking only of the night ahead and whether there would be gambling taking place during the ball. Roderick was eager to win some of his money back from the Duke, who often attended the same gambling dens as he. The Duke was famous for hosting his own games as well. Roderick hoped he would be doing so tonight.

They were greeted by the Duke himself as they arrived at his manor. He was a corpulent man, around forty years of age, with thick lips, flaring nostrils and a nasty way of adjusting his breeches whenever he greeted one of the ladies. "Midwinter! Good of you to come," he said heartily to Lord Roderick who then introduced his wife and daughters. The Duke took Clarissa's hand and brought it to his lips, lingering over it until Clarissa nearly shuddered with revulsion. Then he adjusted his breeches whilst he stared at her, slowly looking her up and down. "I look forward to dancing with you, Miss Midwinter," he said, leaning towards her with a leer.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she replied, forcing herself to smile before quickly moving away. Poor Mary was next, but luckily he didn't linger quite as long over her hand.

"He's hideous!" Mary hissed to her sister as soon as they were out of earshot.

Clarissa wrinkled her nose. "At least he didn't say he wanted to dance with you!"

"Poor you!" Mary sympathised. "Maybe we can dodge him until it's over."

The Duke had not yet married, which was surprising since he was a very wealthy man and quite powerful. Unfortunately, though, for him, he was very unattractive and lacked any manners or social graces that could have helped offset his physical deficiencies. He kept two mistresses to satisfy his needs (they were really prostitutes and he had to pay them a fortune), but his reputation kept most of the parents of the eligible young ladies from presenting their daughters to him. The few ladies who did make an effort to attract him failed to garnish any of his attentions. He wanted only the most beautiful woman in England for a wife, perhaps thinking her beauty would make up for his lack of it. He would wait if he had to, but not for much longer for it was time he fathered an heir for himself. When Clarissa Midwinter walked into the room he knew his long wait was over. He had finally found the most beautiful woman of all to provide him with a son. He could not risk being denied her by an unwilling parent, so he would have to find some way to secure her without any resistance.

Lady Adrianna made sure her daughters, especially Clarissa, were introduced to the best families and their sons. Soon they were both dancing all the dances and beginning to have fun in spite of themselves. The men were handsome and amusing and seemed only intent on enjoying themselves without hints of marriage or other serious things. Clarissa had almost begun to relax until a tap on her shoulder found her face to face with the Duke.

"I would like the honour of this next dance, Miss Midwinter," he said as he licked his large lips with anticipation. Clarissa looked around with alarm for Mary, but she had already been whisked away to the floor by her dance partner.

Clarissa could only nod and accept his hand. "Please, God, let him sprain an ankle or something so I won't have to dance with him!" she prayed silently to herself.

Mary gave her a sympathetic look as they joined the other dancers. Thankfully, the dance wasn't a long one and soon Clarissa was free of his company, feeling an overwhelming urge to wash her hands afterwards. She wondered how long they would have to stay at the ball, wishing with all her heart that she was back at home and in Gareth's arms instead. She looked around for her parents and saw her father speaking to the Duke in one corner of the room. She decided to slip outside and get some fresh air, hoping it would make the evening go by faster.

Lord Roderick held no regard for the Duke, but he did play a good game of cards and Roderick was eager to win back some of what he had lost to the Duke during last week's game. At first the Duke was unwilling to leave the dance—and Clarissa—in favour of cards, but then he realised the perfect opportunity was being presented to him to secure a wife. Lord Roderick owed him a gambling debt and he aimed to put him even further into his debt. He would cheat if he had to.

He gathered a few more men and took them into the special gaming room next to the ballroom. There they played cards until the wee hours of the morning until, one by one, the men drifted off to take their families home. All that remained were Lord Roderick and the Duke. Roderick was sweating now, having lost every pound he had brought with him and then some, only adding to his original debt.

"Are you sure you want to continue, Midwinter?" the Duke asked, pouring Roderick another drink. "You already owe me ten thousand pounds. What more do you have left to gamble?"

Roderick wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. His luck had to be ready to change at any moment—the odds demanded it! Just one more game and he could be back on his feet again.

"Just one more hand, Your Grace—double or nothing."

The Duke raised his eyebrows at him. "That means if you lose you will owe me twenty thousand pounds, Midwinter."

"Or I may win and owe you nothing at all!" he countered doggedly.

"Suit yourself." The Duke shrugged and dealt the cards.

Lord Roderick did not win.

---

Roderick shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand—how could I have lost?"

The Duke tilted his head, pretending to look sympathetic. "Yes, quite the run of bad luck you've had, my friend. I don't recall ever witnessing such a streak before. I trust you will make good on the debt as soon as possible, though."

Roderick looked blearily up at the Duke. "I do not have twenty thousand pounds at the moment, Your Grace. Surely you will give me time to raise it?"

The Duke's eyes hardened. "I expect payment without delay, Midwinter. Perhaps this will teach you a lesson about gambling with money you don't have."

"I will pay you, Your Grace, of course I will, but I need time to raise it. Surely, you are merciful enough to allow me to do so?"

The Duke stood up and stared sternly down on Roderick. "You have two days to pay me my twenty thousand pounds, Midwinter, or I will have my men take possession of your estate. Is that understood?"

Roderick stared at him with disbelief. "Please, Your Grace, I am begging you!"

"I am sorry, Midwinter, but a bet is a bet and I am afraid you have lost. Now I suggest you go home and start finding that money. Tick tock, tick tock!"

The Duke began to walk away, leaving Roderick sitting there in a state of wretchedness knowing he could never liquidate enough of his assets within forty-eight hours. He was about to lose his family heritage over a stupid game of cards! He ran after the Duke and knelt before him, begging him once more for mercy.

The Duke sighed with disgust and crossed his arms over his ample belly, pretending to reluctantly take Roderick's plea into consideration.

"Well, Midwinter, there is one thing you can do that could possibly change my mind and perhaps have me forget this debt altogether."

"Anything, Your Grace!" Roderick said eagerly.

The Duke smiled inwardly. "I want a wife, Midwinter, but not just any wife. I want your daughter."

Roderick blinked at him. "You mean Clarissa?"

"Yes, Clarissa. In two days' time you are either going to pay me twenty thousand pounds or hand your daughter over to me."

Roderick felt a flood of relief come over him. He knew Clarissa's beauty would come in handy someday. He wasn't going to lose his estate after all! "Thank you, Your Grace, thank you! I assure you, Clarissa will be most happy to be your wife."

"Of course she will." The Duke smirked as he reached down and adjusted his breeches.

Roderick stared at his daughter as she and Mary slept in the carriage on the way home. He did feel a twinge of regret thinking of the poor thing having to marry such an odious man as the Duke, but she would live in far greater splendour as a Duchess than she did now. She should be grateful to him for providing her with such an opportunity. He would speak to her in the morning.

The next day Clarissa was just about to go outside to find Gareth when her father called her into his study.

"Close the door, Clarissa," he said after she came into the room.

She looked at him curiously. He had never once called her into his study before.

"Sit down, daughter." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and then stood before her. She looked up at him expectantly.

"Well, Clarissa, it seems you have managed to catch the eye of a very important man at the ball last night."

"What do you mean, Papa?"

"An offer of marriage has been made for you and I have given my consent."

Clarissa felt her stomach clench into a knot and her eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me. I have given my consent to the Duke of Wilmesbury to marry you. Congratulations, daughter, you are about to become a Duchess!"

"No!" she cried as she jumped to her feet. "No, Papa! I will NOT marry that horrible man! I would rather die than become his wife!"

Roderick's face turned red. "Don't be a fool, child! This will be a most advantageous marriage for you and I won't allow you to throw it away!"

Clarissa began to back up towards the door, shaking her head all the way. "No, I don't care about an advantageous marriage. I will only marry for love and I could never love the Duke. Not ever!"

"Love!" her father scoffed. "Love is nothing but a foolish notion dreamt up in books! You will marry the Duke and that is final!"

"No! No!" Clarissa burst into tears and ran out of the room and then out into the garden where she ran as fast as she could to find Gareth.

"Damn!" Roderick swore out loud just as Lady Adrianna swept into the room.

"Roderick, what is going on? Why is Clarissa so upset?"

"That ungrateful pup is refusing to marry the Duke of Wilmesbury!" he shouted.

"The Duke of Wilmesbury wants to marry Clarissa?" Adrianna's mouth fell open. "But, my dear, you know what kind of man he is—why would you want Clarissa to marry him?"

Roderick scowled at her. "He is a Duke and that is reason enough. Besides, it would be to the benefit of this family that she marries him."

His wife narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean 'to the benefit of the family', Roderick? We are doing quite well on our own without any need of…Oh, dear God, you've been gambling again, haven't you?"

Roderick's eyes slid away from her and he remained silent.

"How much have you lost this time, Roderick? How much have you squandered of your son's inheritance?"

"That is none of your concern!" he shouted. "Clarissa is to marry the Duke and that is final!"

Adrianna gave him a horrified look. "She is your daughter! I always knew you were a cold-hearted man, but I never dreamt you would gamble away your own daughter's happiness!"

"Happiness?" he spat as though the word tasted foul in his mouth. "She'll be a Duchess!"

"That man is a gargoyle, Roderick, and you know it!"

"You hold your tongue, woman," he snarled at her. "I make the decisions in this family and you are forbidden to say another word about this!" With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving his wife standing there quivering with fury.

.

Gareth was speaking with the steward when he saw Clarissa run by the office in obvious distress. He excused himself and ran after her.

"Clarissa! Clarissa, wait!" he called out to her until she finally stopped behind the chapel. "Darling, what is the matter?"

She flung herself into his arms. "Oh, Gareth, my father is going to make me marry the Duke!"

He frowned. "The Duke? What Duke?"

"The Duke of Wilmesbury! He asked my father for permission to marry me last night and my father said yes! What am I going to do?"

His heart twisted as she sobbed into his chest. He had heard of the Duke of Wilmesbury and knew what a vile creature he was. To think anyone would allow their daughter to marry him was unthinkable. He took her face in his hands. "Angel Heart, no one is going to make you marry the Duke. I won't let that happen."

"D-Do you promise?" she hiccupped.

"You have my word, Clarrie," he said as he wiped away her tears. "I won't let your father do that to you."

"Please, Gareth, let us leave right now! I cannot stay here any longer!" she sobbed.

Gareth held her tight. "Shhh…everything is going to be all right, dear heart. We will leave tomorrow night, I promise. I just need to run home and get the money I have saved and make a few arrangements. I will be back for you tomorrow. Can you hold on that long for me?"

She nodded her head. "But please hurry, Gareth! Please hurry back to me!"

He kissed her forehead and then ran off to gather his things before hurrying towards home. Clarissa slid down to the ground and leaned against the wall of the chapel, praying that tomorrow would come quickly.

---

Clarissa sat hidden behind the chapel for a long time until she heard approaching footsteps. Before she could even get to her feet to hide somewhere else, the steward, Mr Stevens, came upon her.

"Pardon me, Miss Clarissa, Her Ladyship has asked me to find you."

"Oh, please, Stevens, tell her you weren't able to find me. I don't want to go home," she pleaded.

Stevens gave her a sympathetic look. "I am sorry, Miss Clarissa, but I cannot lie to Her Ladyship." He reached down and helped her to her feet.

"Do you know what she wants, Stevens?" she asked.

Stevens shook his head. "I'm sorry, miss, I do not."

"Can you at least tell me if my father was with her?"

"No, Miss Clarissa, it was just your mother who was wanting you."

Clarissa sighed and followed dejectedly behind the kindly steward until they reached the house.

Stevens led her into the parlour where her mother was speaking to an older gentleman. "I have found Miss Clarissa, Your Ladyship," Stevens said with a bow.

"Thank you, Mr Stevens, I am most grateful." Lady Adrianna gave him one of her rare smiles and Clarissa could have sworn she saw Stevens give her mother a little wink in return. She shook her head knowing she had to have been mistaken.

"Clarissa, I want you to meet Sir Joshua Reynolds. He is a most distinguished artist and I have commissioned him to paint your portrait. Sir Joshua, this is my eldest daughter, Clarissa."

Sir Joshua bowed then took Clarissa's hand and kissed it. "Enchanted to meet you, my dear," he said with a kindly smile. Then he turned to her mother. "You were right, your daughter is indeed very beautiful, Your Ladyship. One of God's own works of art. I hope my painting will do her justice."

"But you are too modest, Sir Joshua!" Adrianna gushed.

"Mama, may I speak to you for a moment?" Clarissa interrupted.

Her mother nodded. "Please excuse us, Sir Joshua, and please feel free to set up wherever you like."

Clarissa led her mother out into the hallway. "Please, Mama, I don't want my portrait painted right now. I am too upset to sit for anyone. Can it not be done another time?"

"No, Clarissa, we are very fortunate to have Sir Joshua here at all—it cannot be done another time."

"But, Mama…"

Lady Adrianna reached out and placed her hand on her daughter's arm. "I understand what you are feeling right now, daughter, more than you know. You will be leaving me soon and I would like to have at least your likeness with me after you are gone."

Clarissa looked at her mother with surprise and could see the regret in her eyes as she continued: "I…I know I have not been the most affectionate of mothers, Clarissa, but you must know that I do love you and only want what is best for you."

Clarissa's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Mama, but you cannot approve of what Papa…"

"Hush, child," Adrianna stopped her. "We will talk later. Dry your tears now and sit for Sir Joshua. He works quickly so you should not have to sit for long. It is a great honour to have your portrait painted by such a respected artist."

Clarissa gave a great sigh and then nodded her head. "All right, Mama, I will do this for you."

Sir Joshua had already set up his easel and readied his canvas by the time Clarissa returned to the room. He placed Clarissa in the perfect light and then began to sketch her face, all the while wondering what could possibly cause such sadness in the eyes of this most beautiful girl.

As soon as she had finished sitting for the day, Clarissa was met by the butler who had another letter for her.

"Thank you, Hopkins," she said, her heartbeat quickening when she recognised Gareth's handwriting on the envelope. She hid it away in her pocket to read for when she was in the privacy of her own room, but first she had to find Mary and fill her in on the ghastly events of the morning.

As soon as she saw her sister's face she burst into tears. "Oh, Mary, you won't believe what Papa has done to me."

"Clarrie! Why are you so upset? What has he done?" Mary asked with concern.

"Papa is forcing me to…to marry the Duke!" she sobbed.

"No!" Mary nearly shouted. "No, that is a fate worse than death! What could he possibly be thinking?"

"I don't know, but he says he has already given his consent for the Duke to marry me and that it is all decided!"

Mary put her arms around her sister and let her cry into her shoulder. "I am so sorry, Clarrie. Papa must be mad to allow his own daughter to marry such a horrible creature! Have you told Gareth yet?"

Clarissa nodded. "I found him right after I was with Papa. I begged him to take me away from here."

"And?" Mary prompted her.

"He has gone home to get his money and to take care of some business and then he will come back for me."

"Well, then, everything is going to be all right, Clarrie! Gareth will take you away so you can be married and you will never ever have to see the Duke again! Am I right?"

Clarissa managed to smile a little for her sister. "Yes, Mary, you are right. I just need to hang on until tomorrow when he will come for me. Oh, Mary, all I want in this world is to marry Gareth and spend the rest of my life with him!"

Mary hugged her again. "And you shall! Papa can never force you to do anything ever again once you are married."

"I am just so scared that Papa will find some way to stop Gareth and me before we can be married. What if he tries to hurt Gareth? Oh, I should die!"

"Shhh, Clarrie. Papa doesn't even know about Gareth! How could he hurt him?"

But Clarissa could not stop the feeling of dread that was coming over her. Something bad was going to happen, she just knew it. She hurried to her room and eagerly opened Gareth's letter, running her fingers lovingly over his words:

Dearest Angel Heart,

I felt each of your tears today as though my own heart was pierced a thousand times. Your despair is my despair! Lord Roderick must take the wishes of his eldest into account! Surely, he cannot be so cold-hearted as to follow through with such a threat.

Courage, my Love, I am the shadow that stands waiting to be your Champion.

Meet me tomorrow at our special place.

G

She smiled through her tears and kissed the letter repeatedly. "Please hurry, my love!" she whispered fervently. Suddenly, she was startled by a knock at her door followed by her mother coming into the room and closing the door quietly behind her. Adrianna then took her daughter's hand and sat next to her on the bed.

"Clarissa, I know you are upset about having to marry the Duke. I do understand why and I want you to know that he is not the man I would have chosen for you myself. Your father, however, is immovable on this point. I am afraid you will have to go through with it."

Clarissa shook her head vehemently. "I am sorry, Mama, but I cannot. I will not marry that odious man no matter what Papa says. I would rather die!"

"No, you mustn't think that way, child. There are ways to find happiness in a disagreeable marriage. The Duke will have his mistresses and you…you can keep your stonemason as long as you are discreet about it."

Clarissa looked stunned. "How do you know about…"

"I am your mother, Clarissa. I make it my business to know everything that you are doing—no matter how carefully you try to hide it."

"Please don't tell Papa, Mama!" Clarissa said frantically.

"I haven't yet, child, and I don't intend to. But you must be very, very careful. Your stonemason is a very comely fellow—if only he came with a pedigree!"

"I want to marry him, Mama, and only him."

"Don't talk such foolishness, Clarissa. Your father would never allow it. Like I said, once you marry the Duke you can keep your stonemason on the side. Why do you think I gave him the commission to repair the chapel?"

"Mama! I could never do that to Gareth! How could you even suggest such a thing?"

Her mother rose from the bed and looked pityingly down at her daughter. "You have a lot to learn about the world, Clarissa, but you will come to understand how it really works in due time."

With that she swept out of the room leaving Clarissa sitting there in shocked silence.

---

Clarissa awoke the next morning with her heart aflutter knowing that this was the day she would be running off to marry the man she loved. She packed a small bag with clothing and her most precious possessions and then hid it under the bed until she was ready to meet Gareth. Before she could leave, she had to venture downstairs to find the best escape route. Unfortunately, as she descended the stairs, she found Sir Joshua waiting for her to do another sitting. It was unavoidable, so with a great sigh she sat in front of him once again and tried not to look too anxious.

Sir Joshua smiled at her. "I know it is a great trial to sit for a portrait, my dear, but I promise you this will be the last day. I have already completed the sketch and once I have painted your beautiful face today I should be able to complete the rest in my studio."

"Thank you, Sir Joshua. I am most grateful to you. I hope you will let me see what it looks like before you leave?"

"If you like," he said congenially, "but I usually prefer my subjects to wait for the finished product."

It took him several more hours of painting, repositioning her from time to time to stay with the light, before he finally pronounced the sitting finished. Clarissa felt stiff from sitting for so long, but she was eager to see what he had accomplished so far. He stepped aside so she could see and she gasped when she saw how lifelike her image was. "It is like looking in a mirror!" she said with awe.

"I am so happy you are pleased, Miss Clarissa. Thank you for being such a charming subject!" He took her hand and kissed it before turning his attentions to Lady Adrianna who had just entered the parlour. Clarissa then took the opportunity to slip away to the conservatory where she knew Mary was practicing her music.

"I have come to say goodbye, dear sister," Clarissa whispered.

Mary ran to her and hugged her tight. "Oh, Clarrie, I am going to miss you so! Please write to me and let me know how you are doing and where you are so I can come visit you!"

"I will miss you, too, Mary, and of course I will write to you! And if Papa ever tries to force you to marry someone horrible you are to come to me, do you understand?"

Mary tried to laugh. "I will, dear Clarrie. Give my love to my future brother-in-law—and most of all, be happy!"

They both cried as Clarissa held her tight and then kissed her cheek before letting her go. Then she hurried away to grab her bag and make her way to the folly where she knew Gareth would be waiting for her.

This time she took the servants' stairway which led to the back of the house where neither of her parents was likely to be. The only person she might encounter would be one of the servants and they were usually too busy to take notice of what she was doing. She gripped the bag tightly in her hand as she crept closer to the door that would lead to her freedom. Just as she reached for the latch a hand grabbed her arm and jerked her away from the door.

"Just where do you think you are going?" her father growled as he looked furiously at the bag she was holding.

"Papa! I was just…I was just…"

"You were running away, weren't you? How dare you!" he snarled, his face now flushed a deep red. "Hopkins! Hopkins!" he began to shout.

The butler immediately appeared as if out of nowhere. "Yes, Your Lordship?"

"Bring me the keys to the bedrooms…immediately!"

"Yes, Your Lordship." Hopkins hurried off and returned moments later with a large key ring. Lord Roderick snatched the keys from his hand and dragged Clarissa up the staircase and to her room where he shoved her inside and slammed the door shut, locking it from the outside.

"You will stay in there until your wedding day, do you understand?" he shouted through the door. "I will not have you running off beforehand!"

"Please, Papa!" she cried as she pounded her fists against the door. "Please don't do this to me! Papa!" She screamed his name until her voice became hoarse and then she fell to the ground sobbing. What was she going to do now? What was Gareth going to think when she failed to meet him?

As the shadows lengthened and night began to fall, Clarissa dragged herself into her bed and cried herself into a fitful sleep where nightmares plagued her all through the night until the early dawn reawakened her to her hideous fate.

---

Gareth waited all day and all night at the folly, but Clarissa never came. His heart felt heavy in his chest knowing something terrible must have happened to keep her from him. He paced back and forth and was nearly frantic by the time dawn broke over the horizon. What was he to do now?

Clarissa stared out of her window and contemplated jumping out of it to escape, but she soon realised it would be impossible to do without breaking her limbs—or worse—as her room was at least a dozen feet from the ground. She wanted to shout Gareth's name so he could know where she was, but was afraid her father would hear her and she didn't want him to find out Gareth even existed. Her only hope of getting a message to Gareth was through Mary and Mary already thought she had run away and would not know she was trapped in her room. She wrung her hands in despair and could only pace about her room like a caged animal.

Later in the morning, she heard a key in the lock and rushed to the door only to find her father standing there with one of the servants, who had brought a tray of food for her and a fresh chamber pot.

"Papa, please don't keep me here!" she pleaded with him once again, but he wouldn't even look at her as he hurried the servant out of the room and locked the door behind him. Clarissa fell to her knees, sobbing once more.

The servant came back later to collect the breakfast tray, bringing Clarissa her lunch whilst her father stood sentry. As the servant girl bent to pick up the untouched tray Clarissa pretended to help her whilst quickly slipping a note into the girl's apron pocket. The girl gave Clarissa a look of sympathy before hurrying away.

As soon as the servant girl was safely alone in the kitchen she pulled out the note and read its contents: 'Please tell my sister where I am.'

The girl swallowed hard and then threw the note into the fire before Lord Roderick could discover it. She hated His Lordship, and even more so after she and the other servants secretly witnessed him catching Clarissa at the back door and dragging her to her room. For the first time, she didn't envy the young misses of the house. She looked around, making sure there was no one else nearby, and then she set out to find Mary.

Mary was just coming out of the conservatory when the servant girl found her and quickly relayed the message. Mary was so horrified by what her father had done that she stood there in shock for a long moment with her hand over her mouth. Then she hurried upstairs to her sister's room.

"Clarissa!" she whispered loudly outside her sister's door.

"Mary!" Clarissa cried. "Oh, thank God you got my message! I have to get out of here!"

"Oh, Clarrie, I am so sorry! I hate Papa for what he has done to you! Don't worry, I am going to try and find some way to get you out of there."

"Mary, you have to find Gareth and tell him what has happened! He must be frantic with worry by now. Go to the stone archway in the woods and if he is not there try the chapel. You will know him when you see him as he is the most handsome man you will have ever seen."

"All right, Clarrie, I will go now."

"And, Mary, tell him that I love him!"

"I will, Clarrie. Stay strong now, dear sister, help is on the way!"

Clarissa began to cry with relief and felt enough hope welling up inside of her to be able to eat some of her lunch. Now that Gareth would know where she was she was sure he would come rescue her.

Mary ran down to the folly as fast as she could. She found Gareth sitting against its stone wall, but he quickly sprang to his feet when he saw her.

"Gareth?" Mary asked breathlessly.

"Yes, I am Gareth," he replied cautiously.

"I am Clarissa's sister Mary," she told him.

"Where is she? Is she all right?" he asked frantically.

Mary shook her head and burst into tears, only adding to his fear. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Please, Mary, tell me what has happened! I am nearly mad with worry!"

"Our Papa," she said in a choked voice. "Our Papa caught Clarrie trying to run away and he has locked her away in her room! He said she has to stay there until her wedding to the Duke!"

"Oh, no!" Gareth cried. "My poor angel! I must get her out of there right now!"

Mary stopped him. "No, not yet, Gareth. My father will be watching and I am terrified of what he might do to you if he catches you. Right now he doesn't even know you exist!"

"But I can't just stand here and do nothing!" he exclaimed.

"I know. We will find a way, but we have to be careful," Mary said. "Clarissa was desperate for me to find you and tell you that she loves you."

Gareth's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Mary. Thank you for finding me. You must tell your sister that I love her with all my heart and that I will be coming for her."

Mary reached into her pocket and brought out a piece of paper and a quill with a little bottle of ink. "Here, I thought you might want to tell her yourself. I think it would lift Clarissa's spirits to hold your words in her hands."

He hugged Mary to him gratefully and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Mary, for being so thoughtful." He took the pen and paper to the fallen log and began to write quickly.

He folded the paper and kissed it before giving it to Mary. "Give this to her with my love," he said.

"I will, Gareth, and I will keep you informed of what is going on."

"Oh, Mary, wait—you must show me which room is Clarissa's. It will make it much easier to rescue her if I know where she is being held."

"Of course I will show you! Follow me," she replied.

They stepped just outside the woods until they had a view of the back of the manor. "See that second chimney from the right?" Mary pointed. "Clarissa's window is the one just to the left of that chimney."

Gareth nodded. "Thank you, Mary. I am deeply indebted to you."

Mary gave his hand a squeeze and then ran back to the manor.

Making sure that her father was ensconced in his study and that no one else was around, Mary crept up to her sister's room and slid Gareth's note under the door. "Clarrie?" she whispered.

She heard her sister scramble to the door and pick up the note. "Oh, thank God you found Gareth!" Clarissa whispered back. "Thank you, Mary!"

Mary heard her sister begin to cry as she read the note. "He sends his love, Clarrie," she whispered. "You were right—he is the most handsome man I have ever seen!"

She could hear Clarissa laugh through her tears. "I told you so! Please give this note to him for me, dear Mary."

She slid a note under the door and Mary quickly hid it away in her pocket. "I will, Clarrie. Try not to worry now. Between Gareth and me we will get you out of there!"

Clarissa huddled in her bed and reread Gareth's note. His words once again brought tears to her eyes:

My Love!

In what desperation I have been cast to have not seen you for days! Thank Providence for faithful Mary to have told me of your fate and who agreed to be our messenger. I never dreamt that Lord Roderick could be so dastardly as to lock his own daughter away, to be kept as prisoner in her own home! To what selfish depths has he sunk!

Do not despair, my Angel, I am coming for you.

G

She clasped the note to her heart and soon fell into a deep sleep. She was awakened later in the night by the sound of two people arguing. She went to her door and pressed her ear against it and soon discerned the voices of her mother and father. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying until the very end when she heard her father shout, "If I find anyone helping her escape I will have them hanged!"

Clarissa slid down to the floor with her back to the door and fear shot through her as she thought of Gareth coming to rescue her. What if her father, or one of his staff, caught Gareth and had him hanged? She knew how cold-hearted her father could be so she didn't doubt his threat in the least. She would have to find some way to warn Gareth before it was too late!

She paced about her room until long past midnight and then she heard something hitting her window. It sounded like small stones being thrown. She hurried to the window and nearly cried out when she saw Gareth standing below in the moonlight.

"Gareth!" she cried out in a whisper.

"Oh, my darling, are you all right?" he whispered back.

"Yes, I am all right, but you mustn't be here—it is too dangerous!"

"I don't care—I am getting you out of there tonight!"

"No! Gareth, please listen to me. I think it best if I abide by my father's wishes and marry the Duke. I am so sorry!"

"What? You cannot be serious, Clarrie!"

"I am so sorry, Gareth, but it would be best for everyone if I marry him."

He shook his head. "This is madness! I don't believe you! Why would you want to marry such a horrible man?"

"I hope you will understand someday, Gareth, but you must go now—before my father discovers you here!"

"Clarrie, wait!" he cried, but she had already closed the window and drawn the curtain over it.

Gareth staggered back, unable to believe her words. What had Lord Roderick threatened her with to make her change her mind? Had she really had a change of heart or was there something she was afraid of? He must find Mary as soon as morning came and find out what was going on.

Clarissa crawled back to her bed and began to sob at having to turn Gareth away. The hurt she saw in his face would haunt her for the rest of her life, but she would gladly marry the Devil himself if it would keep Gareth out of harm's way. She couldn't risk him getting caught trying to rescue her only to end up at the end of her father's rope. She loved him too much to let him risk his life for her.

Gareth was relieved to see Mary making her way towards the folly the following morning.

"Mary! I am so glad to see you," he said as he kissed her cheek. "What has happened? I went to Clarissa's window last night and she said she was going to marry the Duke after all!"

"What?" Mary exclaimed. "I don't understand! That doesn't sound like Clarrie!"

"I know!" he agreed. "I think your father must have threatened her in some way to make her agree to marry the Duke. I cannot believe she would willingly marry such a man."

"Nor I," Mary replied with a frown. "I must speak to her and find out what has happened."

"Yes, and please let me know as soon as you find out before I go mad!"

She placed her hand on his arm. "I will, Gareth. There is something very wrong here."

"And please give this note to her for me, Mary. Tell her I refuse to give up."

Mary took the note from him and nodded. "I will be back as soon as I can!"

When Mary crept back into the house she passed by the closed doors of her father's study and stopped when she heard her mother's angry voice cry out, "You fool! I suppose you didn't even try to raise the twenty thousand pounds you owe the Duke! You would rather sell your own daughter to him to settle your debt!"

Mary reared back, unable to believe her ears. So that is why her father was making Clarissa marry the Duke! What kind of monster was he?

"I told you before to keep your mouth shut and to not interfere in my business!" She heard her father snarl back. "Do you want us to lose this house and our land and be cast out with nothing? I swear if you say one word of this to anyone you will be sorry!"

The sound of his approaching footsteps made Mary dart quickly away from the door and hide inside a small broom closet nearby. Once she was sure both her parents had gone she slipped quietly up the stairs to Clarissa's door.

"Clarrie!" she whispered as she shoved Gareth's note under the door.

"Mary?" Clarissa whispered back.

"Clarrie, Gareth is beside himself with worry! Why did you tell him you would marry the Duke? What has happened?"

"Oh, Mary, I heard Papa and Mama arguing last night! I heard Papa say that he would hang any person who tried to rescue me! I couldn't let Gareth risk his life to save me. I would rather marry the Duke than let that happen!"

Mary shook her head in disbelief. "I do not think Papa can put a man to death just for trying to rescue you!"

"I cannot risk him trying!" Clarissa whispered back. "You know what he is like!"

Mary nodded her head reluctantly, thinking of what she had just heard coming from her father's study. "You may be right, Clarrie. I found out why Papa is making you marry that horrible man. It seems Papa owes the Duke twenty thousand pounds and he doesn't have the money. He agreed to let you marry the Duke to satisfy the debt."

Clarissa was silent behind the door.

"Clarrie?"

She heard her sister's muffled sob and Mary leaned her head against the door. "I am so sorry, Clarrie, so very sorry!"

"How could he?" Clarissa cried. "My own father!"

"I know—I hate him!" Mary said with fury. "This is all the more reason why you need to escape from here and run away with Gareth. I will help you in any way that I can—you know that!"

"But I don't want Gareth to get hurt!" Clarissa continued to sob.

"He won't, dear Clarrie. I won't let that happen! We will figure out a way—I promise you!"

With that, Mary ran off to find Gareth so they could formulate a plan to rescue her sister. It would serve her father right if he lost everything that he owned.

---

Mary had never seen anyone as angry as Gareth after she told him about her father losing all of his money to the Duke and using Clarissa as the debt payment.

"I will kill him!" Gareth roared.

"No! Gareth, forget about my father," Mary pleaded. "Clarissa needs our help—we have to concentrate on getting her out of there!"

"But he cannot be allowed to get away with this!"

"He won't, Gareth, don't you see? Once Clarissa is gone he will not have any way to pay his debt to the Duke. He will be ruined!"

Gareth thought it over for a moment and then nodded his head. "You are right, Mary. Losing everything will be the greatest punishment. But what will become of you and your mother and brothers? It isn't fair for all of you to lose your home!"

"Do not trouble yourself about us. My mother's family is quite wealthy—I am sure they will take us in. The important thing is to not let the Duke have my sister! I would rather live on the streets than see that happen to her!"

Gareth took Mary's face in his hands. "You are a treasure, Mary, do you know that? Clarissa is so lucky to have you for a sister. I will be so lucky to have you for a sister! You will always be welcome to come live with us if ever you need a place to stay!"

"Thank you, Gareth. I am just so happy that Clarrie has found you! Now, let us figure out how we are going to get her out of that room without Papa catching us!"

After Mary had left her, Clarissa sat on her bed and opened Gareth's letter. His words asking why she had turned him away and whether she had chosen riches over his love sent her into a deep depression. To have made him think that of her tore her heart to pieces. If only she could be certain he wouldn't get hurt trying to rescue her!

She waited all day for Mary to come back, but her door remained silent. Finally, she fell asleep and sometime in the growing twilight she was awakened by a noise at her door. She sprang up from her bed, hoping it was Mary, but before she could reach the door it opened to reveal her father standing there holding a large box.

"I have brought your wedding dress, Clarissa. Our seamstress already had your measurements and has worked tirelessly these past two days to have this ready for you for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" she gasped.

"Yes, tomorrow. The Duke has arranged for your wedding to take place tomorrow morning at the cathedral. Be dressed and ready by dawn."

"But, Papa…" she began, but he had already left and locked the door again.

She looked down at the dress and then flung it away with horror. She would never wear that dress! Never! Feeling nothing but utter despair now, she slid down to the floor and prayed that she would die before morning came.

Later that night, just as she had fallen into a fitful sleep, she heard a faint knock at her door. "Clarrie!" she heard Mary whisper as she saw a note emerge from the bottom of her door.

"I am here, Mary!" she whispered back, snatching the note up in her hands.

"I cannot stay, Clarrie. Papa is restless and roaming about the house right now. I think he is growing suspicious! If Papa comes up here you must let him believe you have changed your mind about marrying the Duke. I will be back as soon as I can!"

"All right, Mary!"

Clarissa then eagerly opened the note and saw Gareth's precious handwriting:

Oh, my Love,

How my heart wept when I heard your father had sold you for thirty pieces of silver to the Duke of Wilmesbury. What is he about to so heartlessly cast his own daughter into the lion's den? My darling Innocence, I cannot let this happen. The Duke is incapable of love and I will not stand by and watch as he dims the fire in your eyes and tramples upon your heart.

Mary and I have worked out a plan. Be ready at midnight—I am coming for you.

G

Clarissa began to weep with relief. Gareth was coming for her! The note said that he and Mary had a plan so surely Mary must have warned him of the danger from their father. "Please, God, protect them both!" she prayed fervently. The longer she prayed the more she became filled with hope that God would be on their side and not let anything bad happen to them. She held on to that faith with all that she had because she knew that nothing could stop Gareth from coming for her now.

She then went quickly to her desk and placed the note with the other letters Gareth had sent to her, tying them together with her best ribbon and hiding them behind the loose panel in the bottom drawer. Then she began to write her own note to Gareth for Mary to take to him as soon as she came back:

My Love,

You do not know how your letter has saved me from the depths of despair! My father and the Duke have arranged for the marriage to take place tomorrow and I was ready to take my own life before pledging my troth to such a man.

But you, my Knight in shining armour, my precious Gareth, are coming for me and now my soul is soaring once again knowing I will be reunited with you tonight.

Mary tells me that I must

The pen jerked in her hand as she heard a key in her door. She had just enough time to shove the letter behind her desk and toss her pen aside before her father made his way into her room. He said nothing, but his eyes looked wildly about as though making sure she was still in the room and hadn't somehow escaped.

Clarissa stared at him, noticing how his hair stuck up oddly as though he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. Then, seemingly satisfied that she was still his prisoner, he retreated and locked the door behind him. Clarissa felt shaken. What if he kept checking up on her every few minutes? How would she ever be able to escape?

She was afraid to take up her letter again in case her father came back to her room. Mary never did come back—it must have been too dangerous for her to do so. Clarissa could only sit and fret, wondering what was happening outside the walls of her prison cell as she anxiously awaited the hands of the little clock on her mantel to reach midnight.

---

Just before midnight, Clarissa heard someone run past her door. She hurried to the door and placed her ear against it, but she heard nothing more. With a sigh she glanced up at her clock again and then resumed her pacing about the room. Suddenly, a noise on the wall near her window startled her so badly she nearly gasped. With her desk sitting just below the window she could only lean forward to see what was going on outside. She nearly screamed when Gareth's head popped up outside the window, giving her a joyful smile when he saw her. She climbed up on the desk and pushed open the window where he then pulled her towards him and kissed her repeatedly.

"Are you all right, my angel?" he whispered after their lips finally parted.

"Yes, now that you are here!" she whispered as she kissed him once more.

"Hurry!" She heard someone whisper from below, and when she looked down she saw Mary's anxious face looking up at them. "I don't know how long he will stay asleep!" Mary exclaimed.

Gareth nodded. "Quick, if you have anything you wish to take with you give it to me now."

She hurried back to her bed and pulled out the bag she had packed days ago and passed it through the window. Gareth dropped it to the soft grass below and then reached out for her. "Come, I will help you through the window," he said.

The window was divided into two panes so the openings were rather small on either side. It took some effort for her to work her way out as she had to turn around and put her feet out first whilst Gareth guided them to the top rung of the ladder.

"Don't look down," he whispered.

The ladder swayed a bit with their combined weight so Gareth braced the ladder against the wall with one hand whilst he held Clarissa with the other. Suddenly, Clarissa's foot slipped and she fell to one side with a squeal. Gareth tried to counterbalance, but he lost his grip and the ladder began to slide sideways from the wall. Clarissa was too frightened to scream and Gareth felt a sick feeling in his stomach knowing that one or both of them were about to be terribly injured. Time seemed to slow down and in that split second they heard Mary's gasp and a man's grunt as the ladder's slide was suddenly halted. Gareth looked down and his heart jumped in his throat when he saw it was Stevens, the steward, who was holding the ladder, and right behind him was Lady Adrianna.

"Hang on!" Stevens whispered to them as he pushed the ladder to its upright position. Gareth and Clarissa quickly climbed to the ground and Gareth pushed Clarissa behind him protectively as he faced Stevens and Lady Adrianna.

Stevens put his hands up. "It's all right, Warrener," he said. "We are not here to stop you. Her Ladyship wishes to help her daughter."

"Mama, please!" Clarissa pleaded.

"It is all right, daughter. I want you to go with Mr Warrener. I cannot let your father condemn you to a life with that horrible Duke," her mother said.

Clarissa's mouth fell open. "Mama, do you really mean it?"

"Yes, child. I am just sorry I could not do anything sooner. Mr Warrener here is a fine young man and I know he will take care of you."

Clarissa then broke away from Gareth's protective arm and ran to her mother, hugging her tight. "Thank you, Mama! Thank you so much!"

Her mother placed her arms around her daughter, hesitantly at first, and then more securely as tears began running down her cheeks. "Do not worry, Clarissa. I will not tell your father how you escaped or with whom you escaped. He may try to find you, but you should be safe with Mr Warrener."

Clarissa pulled back and smiled at her mother and then looked questioningly over at Stevens. Her mother, knowing what her daughter was thinking, smiled reassuringly at her. "You needn't worry about Stevens saying anything, either. In fact, it was his idea to see if we could help you tonight."

"But how…?" Clarissa gave her a puzzled look.

"Never mind how he knew, let's just say Mr Stevens and I understand each other very well."

Clarissa's eyes widened. "Mama!" she exclaimed, looking rather shocked.

Lady Adrianna cleared her throat. "Well, now, before you leave me I want to give this to you to help you on your journey." She gave Clarissa a small pouch that was filled with money and jewellery. "Do not forget me, daughter!" Lady Adrianna said, trying to keep her tears at bay.

Clarissa embraced her once more. "Of course I won't forget you, Mama! Thank you so much for helping Gareth and me!"

"Well, off you go then," Lady Adrianna said as she quickly wiped away a tear. "Hurry, before your father wakes up."

Clarissa raised her eyebrows. "Wakes up?"

"We put a sleeping draught in his drink tonight," Mary explained. "It took forever to work!"

Clarissa began to laugh and soon everyone else joined in. But then Mary started to cry and threw herself into her sister's arms. "I am going to miss you so much, Clarrie!" she sobbed.

"Darling Mary! I will miss you so much, too! I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done for me and Gareth. I will find a way to get in touch with you as soon as I can!"

They held each other tight for a long moment and then Mary threw herself into Gareth's arms. "I will miss you, too, dear brother! Thank you for saving my Clarrie from a fate worse than death!"

Gareth returned the hug and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Mary, for all your help. We will meet again, I promise!"

With that, Gareth picked up Clarissa's bag and then took her hand. With a final look back, Clarissa waved goodbye to her mother and sister and then she and Gareth began running towards the woods where Gareth had two horses waiting for them.

They were soon able to catch the coach to Gretna Green and within two days they were officially man and wife.

Lord Roderick awoke the next morning with a massive headache and soon discovered his daughter had escaped. He raged about the manor demanding to know who had helped her, but everyone claimed ignorance of the matter. With a quivering heart, he had to present himself to the Duke and break the news to him that Clarissa had run away and could not be found.

The Duke's face turned nearly purple. "Well, Midwinter, it looks like I am now the owner of your estate!"

Roderick turned pale. "Wait, Your Grace, I have another daughter who is also quite beautiful! I am sure she would make you an excellent wife!"

"No, Midwinter, your second daughter does not hold a candle to your eldest. I only wanted the most beautiful woman of all to be my wife and that was Clarissa. No, you and your family will vacate the manor immediately, do you understand?"

Roderick bowed miserably before him. "Yes, Your Grace."

After Roderick left, the Duke sighed heavily. He would have to set about finding another beauty to be his wife right away. In the meantime, he was now the owner of a very valuable piece of property! He rubbed his hands together greedily and demanded a most sumptuous breakfast from his cook. He would tell his men about winning the Midwinter estate as soon as he had eaten.

His breakfast was quickly served and he sat there alone, giggling to himself at making such an easy acquisition whilst he gobbled the large pudding and roast beef before him. Suddenly, he felt a twinge in his chest and he belched loudly, hoping it would relieve the discomfort, but it only grew worse. The pain began to squeeze his chest even more and then it began to travel down his left arm. Gasping now for breath, he clutched at his chest whilst stars burst in front of his eyes.

"Damn!" he managed to utter before falling dead, face first, into his pudding.

Lord Roderick had barely made it home when news of the Duke's death made its way to Candleford. He sat in stunned silence in his study late into the night and for days to come, wondering if by some divine providence he had been spared the loss of his estate. The Duke must not have told anyone about the gambling debt, for in the weeks that followed no one ever came to claim it.

But despite everything working out to his advantage, Lord Roderick never forgave Clarissa for her betrayal. Ignoring his wife's protests, he forced Lady Adrianna to place their daughter's portrait in Clarissa's room which he then ordered to be sealed up and hidden away forever. Then, in a final spiteful act, he obliterated Clarissa's name from the family Bible and no one was ever allowed to utter her name again.

Clarissa and Gareth soon made their home together just outside of a little hamlet called Lark Rise. There they raised their six children and lived a very blissful life together. Mary would slip away as often as she could to visit them and her visits were always joyous occasions. Mary eventually married the handsome son of a neighbouring squire and had four children of her own.

Both sisters remained close for the rest of their lives until Clarissa and her youngest daughter succumbed to a terrible influenza outbreak in 1821. Gareth was holding his beloved Clarrie in his arms when she breathed her last breath. He wept over her for nearly two days, not allowing anyone near her, until his sons finally pulled him away so she could be buried. Gareth then shut himself away, spending every waking moment carving the beautiful angel that he would place upon her grave. He never was able to accept her death, and after a year had passed his heart could take no more of her absence and he finally got his wish to be reunited with her in the afterlife.

Time marched on and generations came and went. Clarissa's tale might have been long forgotten if not for the little spider that crawled through a crack in the wall and attracted the attention of a lovesick young girl on a lazy afternoon.

Chapter 6

It was a warm, sunny Sunday for a change and Abby was in Lark Rise visiting with her friend Annie Timmins. They had ridden double on Abby's horse out to the old graveyard to place flowers on Clarissa and Gareth's graves and do a bit of weeding in the tiny cemetery. Annie had been most intrigued with Clarissa's story after Abby told her about it.

"I cannot believe you kept this all to yourself for so long! You didn't even tell me—your best friend!" Annie admonished her.

"I am sorry, Annie. It was just something I felt I needed to keep to myself until I had solved the mystery. Believe me—I was dying to tell you!"

"Oh, it's all right," Annie replied good-naturedly. "I think I understand why you couldn't tell anyone. But what a story! A hidden room and everything!" She shook her head appreciatively.

They continued their work, stopping every now and then to sit and admire the great, puffy clouds that drifted in the sky above them and enjoy the warmth of the sun on their faces.

During one such time Annie glanced over at her friend. "So, Abby, now that you've turned sixteen is Sydney treating you any differently?"

Abby sighed and blew a stray hair from her forehead. "No. I've been wearing the most gorgeous new dresses that Ma had made for me and I've even been wearing my hair up more when I work at the Post Office, but it has no effect on him whatsoever. And then, do you know what he did to me the other day?"

Annie shook her head.

"He patted me on the head! As if I was two years old! I felt like Cassie," she said indignantly. Cassie was Thomas and Margaret's little dog—a descendant of their beloved first dog, Amelia Cordelia.

"Ouch!" Annie replied sympathetically.

Abby shook her head. "I honestly don't know what to do anymore unless I just take the bull by the horns and fling myself at him."

"No, don't do that!" Annie said with alarm. "A man will never respect a woman who throws herself at him!"

They were silent for a bit until Abby looked over at Annie and said, "What about you, Annie? Is there anyone out there that you fancy?"

Annie looked down at her hands and shook her head, but Abby couldn't miss the deep blush that spread over her friend's cheeks.

"Oho! There is someone, isn't there?" Abby crowed.

Annie shook her head more vehemently. "Don't be silly, of course there isn't."

"Oh, yes there is! I can see it on your face! Go on, tell me who it is!" Abby prodded her.

"No."

"Come on, Annie, I'm your best friend! And I've told you all about Sydney!"

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

"I don't know. It just is."

"Hmmph," Abby grumbled. "Well, I thought I was your best friend. I guess I was wrong."

"Oh, Abby, don't be that way. I…I just don't feel comfortable talking about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I know you'll just make a fuss and it's…it's embarrassing for me!"

"Annie! I won't make a fuss, I promise! And there is no reason for you to be embarrassed with me. After all, you've heard all of my deepest, darkest secrets and you don't think any less of me because of it, do you?"

"Of course not, Abby."

"Well, then…" Abby waited but Annie remained silent.

"Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But all I know is when I've been feeling down about Sydney, telling you about it has always made me feel better. I just want to return the favour, that's all. That is what friends are for, Annie."

Annie sighed. "All right, I will tell you. Only you must promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone—especially not to him!"

"I promise! Now who is 'him'?" Abby asked eagerly as she leaned closer to her friend.

Annie looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. "Harry."

"Harry Smith at the Post Office?" Abby squealed.

Annie's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "Shhh! I told you not to make a fuss!"

Abby tried to contain her glee. "I'm sorry, I'm not going to make a fuss, I promise. Oh, but Annie, he's perfect for you! You two are both as shy as rabbits and Harry is just as sweet as you are. And he's handsome, too! Does he know that you fancy him? Does he fancy you, too?"

"No! He doesn't know and you are not going to tell him!" Annie cried, looking panicked.

"But, Annie, how are you two ever going to get together if someone doesn't make the first move?"

"A lady never makes 'the first move', Abby," Annie said primly. "A lady must wait for the man to come to her."

Abby looked confused. "But how will he know to come to you when he doesn't even know you fancy him?"

Annie shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I will just have to admire him from afar."

"That's silly," Abby said with a frown. "So how did you come to fancy Harry, anyway?"

Annie blushed again. "I would see him when he came into the Pratts' shop to deliver their packages. He always looked so handsome! And one time I was hurrying in to work when I tripped and fell and a horse nearly trampled me. Harry pulled me out of the way just in time! He was ever so kind."

Abby held her hand up to her heart. "How romantic! He saved your life, Annie! Ma once told me that in China when a man saves your life it means he becomes responsible for your life forever."

"Really?" Annie said with wonder.

"Yes. So that means Harry is already responsible for you for the rest of your life. That has to mean something!"

Annie hugged her knees to her chest, looking thoughtful.

Abby then nudged Annie's shoulder and began to giggle. "Harry Smith! I never would have guessed that Annie Timmins had a crush on good ol' Harry!"

Annie rolled her eyes, but was soon giggling, too. "Remember, you promised not to say anything!"

"I know, and I won't. But I think it's time you found a way to let him know that you fancy him."

"Oh, but I couldn't!" Annie protested.

"Of course you could! In fact, I think it's time I followed my own advice." Abby stood up and brushed the dirt from the backside of her dress.

"What are you going to do?" asked Annie.

"I don't know just yet, but I'll think of something."

When Abby came home from her day with Annie she found Sydney playing Battledore and Shuttlecock with Benjamin out on the lawn nearest the woods. She could hear them laughing as they batted the shuttlecock back and forth, and as she watched them play she began to smile for she suddenly came up with a plan.

She approached them slowly, then, as she got closer, she started to run as fast as she could. Just as the shuttlecock was in mid-flight, she ran between them, jumped up and snatched it out of the air.

"Hey!" Benjamin cried. "Give that back!"

"No! You'll have to catch me first!" Abby laughed as she ran off, waving the shuttlecock in the air. Just as she had hoped, Sydney and Ben began to chase her, but Ben finally gave up and yelled, "Go ahead and keep it—I'm going to find the other one!" Sydney, however, kept up the chase.

Abby ran into the woods and dodged between the trees, squealing with laughter whenever Sydney got closer to her. Finally, she came upon the arch of the old stone folly and hid behind it, gasping for air. Just when she thought she had lost him he jumped out at her, causing her to scream, and pinned her to the stone wall. "Aha! Found you, you little scamp," he laughed.

Abby hid the shuttlecock behind her back. "I'm not giving it to you," she said boldly.

"Oh, really? We'll just see about that." Sydney laughed as he reached behind her, trying to take the shuttlecock from her hand, but she held on tight to it. Not wanting to hurt her, he didn't try to force it from her hand, so he just stood there with his hands braced against the stones on either side of her so she couldn't get away.

"Now what are you going to do?" he teased.

"I'm going to stand here and wait for you to give up," she said pertly.

"You'll be waiting here forever, then," he replied.

"Then I guess I'll just have to wait here forever!" she said stubbornly.

"Come on, Abbs, you can't win. Give me the shuttlecock."

"No."

"All right, I'll just pick you up and carry you over my shoulder and deliver you to your papa instead, how's that?" He bent to pick her up which made her laugh even more until she shouted, "Stop! All right, I'll give it to you, but first you have to give me something in return."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Like what?"

Her heart began to beat faster as she stared him boldly in the eye. "Like a kiss."

"Fine," he said as he bent to kiss her cheek.

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. "No, not on the cheek."

"Abby…."

"What's the matter, Syd, are you afraid to kiss me?"

"Abby, I am not in the habit of kissing children."

"Sydney, I am sixteen years old. I am not a child anymore no matter how much you want to keep me as one. When are you going to accept that?"

He frowned slightly. "You're right, you aren't a child anymore. But, Abby, you're my little sister."

She leaned in closer to his face, her eyes never leaving his, and whispered quite deliberately, "I. Am. Not. Your. Sister."

Sydney went silent as he digested her words. It was true that part of him did not want to admit that she was now a young woman. He wanted to keep her the sweet, devoted child who had worshipped him since she was nearly three years old. But she wasn't that child anymore. For the first time, he really looked at her and realised how truly beautiful she was. Her deep brown eyes, enhanced by her long dark lashes, flashed wickedly at him as her rosy lips neared his, waiting to be kissed. A strange, tingling feeling began deep in his stomach and his right hand, of its own volition, rose up and stroked the raven hair that cascaded down her creamy white shoulders. It was as though a spell had suddenly been cast over him and he was powerless to pull away from the gentle force that was drawing him towards her.

Abby's breath came faster as she whispered, "Oh, Syd…."

But the spell was broken by the sound of Ben shouting, "I found the other shuttlecock, Sydney! We can finish our game now!"

Sydney pulled away from Abby so quickly that she nearly fell over. She had never wanted to strangle her little brother more than in that moment. Sydney was about to kiss her for the first time and Ben had ruined it. Her chance to finally have what she had been waiting for for so long was lost. She threw the shuttlecock down and ran off.

"Abby, wait!" Sydney called after her, but she kept on running and didn't stop until she reached the manor and the silent comfort of her own room.

---

Sydney felt shaken after his encounter with Abby. He had never seen her as anything but the adorable child who had followed him around like a little puppy for so many years. Even though they were not related by blood, he had always considered her his little sister. Now, suddenly, it was as though she had disappeared and in her place was this confusingly beautiful creature who looked at him in such a way it made him feel anything but brotherly. What was he thinking letting her draw him in like that? He mustn't let that happen ever again! Sir Timothy had always been very kind to him, but he doubted very much if the Squire would approve of his only daughter falling in love with a simple Postmaster—and a man of illegitimate birth to boot. No, he must remain vigilant as far as Abigail Midwinter was concerned. He must find a way to discourage her from forming a more serious attachment to him at all costs.

He played with Ben a little while longer before Dorcas called them in to dinner. Abby seemed subdued when she came to the table and said very little, much to Sydney's relief. He kept his gaze fixed on his food and was grateful when his mother engaged him in conversation about Post Office business. He ventured a glance over at Abby only once to find her staring at him in such a way that it unsettled him even more—so much so that he nearly knocked over his wine glass in his haste to gulp down its contents.

He saw his mother give him an odd look and then she glanced over at Abby as well, no doubt putting two and two together. He groaned inwardly knowing nothing ever escaped his mother's notice for long.

Sydney was relieved when dinner finally came to an end. He was eager to get back home to the Post Office so he could be alone with his thoughts. Now that Abby was finished with school she was working longer hours at the Post Office and it would be impossible to avoid her. Well, if worse came to worse, he would simply have to let her go—for both their sakes.

He kissed his mother goodbye, shook Timothy's hand, cuffed Ben playfully on the ear and then just nodded a quick good night to Abby instead of the usual kiss on the cheek, before hurrying out the door. The hurt look Abby gave him would keep him awake the rest of the night.

Abby said a hasty good night to her parents as well and quickly retreated to her room. Timothy raised his eyebrows at Dorcas, as Abby always enjoyed staying up late with her parents now that she was older. Sometimes she and Timothy would play a heated game of chess, which Timothy was almost sorry for teaching her because she more often than not beat him at the game. It never failed to amuse Dorcas whenever Abby won, leaving Timothy staring at the chessboard in disbelief. Sometimes their matches went on late into the night.

"I think I had better see if anything is wrong," Dorcas said to Timothy with a sigh.

Timothy nodded, looking concerned.

Abby was sitting on her bed, staring at nothing, when Dorcas came into the room and sat down next to her.

"Is everything all right, Abby?" Dorcas asked gently.

"Yes, Ma," Abby replied, looking down at her hands.

"Are you sure, darling? I sensed something was going on between you and Sydney today. Did you two have a row?"

Abby shook her head and looked away so her mother couldn't see the tears in her eyes.

Dorcas put her arm around Abby's shoulders. "I think I know what you are going through, Abigail. When I was your age I was very much in love with someone myself, someone deep down I knew I could never have."

Abby burst into tears then and buried her face in Dorcas's shoulder. "Oh, Ma, I love him so much, but he refuses to see me as anything but a child!"

Dorcas rocked her back and forth, like she used to when she was a little girl, and sighed. "I thought that's what it was. Dear heart, you have to understand that Sydney was much older than you when you came into our lives. He loved you right from the start, though, always protecting you and wanting you to be happy. He was so pleased to play the part of your big brother. He had never had a real family of his own before."

"I know, Ma, but he's not my brother, not really," she said.

"Yes, but that is not how he sees it," Dorcas said as she rubbed Abby's back. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened today?"

Abby shook her head. "No, it's too embarrassing."

Dorcas couldn't help but smile, remembering back to her own behaviour with Timothy when they were sixteen years old. "I doubt anything you say could be more embarrassing than the things I used to do at your age. Perhaps I could help you fix whatever happened today. I am very good at giving advice—it is my one weakness!"

Abby sniffed and looked up at her mother hopefully. "Do you promise not to be angry with me?" she asked.

"Yes, Abigail, I promise."

Abby related the story of her stealing the shuttlecock and how Sydney chased her to the folly in the woods. "I...I told him I wouldn't give it back to him unless he kissed me."

Dorcas tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible. "And did he?"

Abby shook her head as tears filled her eyes again. "He almost did, but then Ben interrupted us and Sydney jumped away from me as if I suddenly had the plague. He would barely even look at me the rest of the night."

Dorcas embraced her once again. "Oh, I see," she said quietly and then was silent for a moment as she tried to think of what to say to help ease her daughter's pain. That Sydney had almost kissed Abby was rather unexpected, but it did explain his nervous behaviour during dinner. The situation had grown more complicated than she thought.

Dorcas then held Abby by the shoulders and made her look at her. "Abby, there is a secret that every woman should know about men."

"What is it, Ma?" Abby asked.

"Well, men are rather curious creatures. They have always been the hunters of our species—it is their nature. There is nothing a man enjoys more than the hunt, whether it is a fox, or a deer…or a beautiful young woman such as what you have become. A man does not like to feel as though he has become the prey, do you understand what I am saying?"

Abby wrinkled her brow in thought. "I think so, Ma, but how does a woman get a man to hunt her?"

Dorcas smiled at her. "Well, now that is the question, isn't it? I always say be true to yourself first and foremost—men like a woman with spirit and good sense! Be a good listener and, also, it does not hurt to flatter them from time to time as long as you do not overdo it—you do not want to make your interest in them so obvious. Appear as though you are unavailable, but not so unavailable as to discourage them. Remember, they love the hunt!"

Abby shook her head. "It all seems so confusing!"

Dorcas smiled sympathetically at her. "I know it does, darling. In your case, Sydney already knows how you feel. As the saying goes, the ball is now in his court."

Seeing Abby's puzzled look she explained, "It means it is now up to him to make the next move."

"But what if he doesn't make the next move?"

"Then it wasn't meant to be. Darling, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn is that we cannot force someone to fall in love with us. It either happens or it doesn't. We can love someone with all our heart, but that does not guarantee they will reciprocate our love. It is something we must accept and move on from, no matter how painful it is."

Abby rested her head against Dorcas's shoulder again with a sigh. "Why is love so complicated, Ma?"

"I don't know why it is—but I suspect it isn't love itself that is complicated, but we humans who make it so. I suppose that is why so many great poems, songs and novels have been written about this very topic over the years—it is something that so many have struggled with! Just know that you are not alone in that struggle to understand it. I have been through it myself."

"But you have Papa now and he loves you so much."

"Yes, but that wasn't always the case."

Abby regarded her sadly. "You loved him before he married my mother, didn't you?"

Dorcas nodded. "Yes, very much so. But he was the Squire, you see, and I was just the Postmaster's daughter. And even though we loved each other, I never believed he would choose me over his family's wishes to marry within his own class."

"So he married my mother instead."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Ma, that must have been so difficult. I know how I would feel if I had to see Sydney marry someone else."

"Yes, it was very difficult, but it was meant to be, wasn't it? For if he hadn't married your mother you wouldn't be here with us today now, would you? And I cannot imagine my life without you in it, Abigail. Not only did I get my Timothy back, but I gained a beautiful daughter as well whom I love very much."

Abby smiled. "I love you too, Ma."

"Now, young lady, when you go to the Post Office tomorrow just be yourself around Sydney. He is probably feeling just as awkward as you are over what happened today. Be patient with him—he needs time to adjust to the woman you have become!"

Abby hugged her mother tight. "I will, Ma. Thank you for listening to me."

"That is what mothers are for!" Dorcas said as she returned the hug.

Timothy was pacing about, waiting for Dorcas to return. He looked up anxiously as she came down the stairs. "Did you find out what was wrong?" he asked.

"Yes, she was just in need of some womanly advice," Dorcas replied.

"Well, I cannot imagine a better person to give her that advice than you, darling. Abby is so lucky to have you for a mother." He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, Timothy."

"Have I told you today how much I love you?" he whispered in her ear.

"Hmmm…perhaps you have, but I think you should remind me." She laughed softly as her eyes twinkled at him.

He took her face in his hands and gazed lovingly at her. "I love you with all my heart and soul, Dorcas Lane Midwinter," he said and then kissed her passionately as they stood at the foot of the stairs.

Abby had come out of her room at that moment, but stopped when she saw her father and mother in an embrace. She smiled as she watched them kissing, storing away their techniques in her mind for the day when she would be able to kiss Sydney just as passionately.

"The hunt is on, Sydney!" she said as she smiled to herself. She was now looking forward to tomorrow.

---

Abby took a deep breath before opening the door to the Post Office the next day, wondering how Sydney was going to behave towards her. Luckily, Harry was there chatting with Sydney so it was made easier having him there as a buffer. Sydney gave her a polite smile and Abby, remembering her mother's advice, said cheerily, "Hi Syd. Hi Harry. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Hello, Abby," Harry said. "Yes, it is a very pretty day today. Speaking of which, I had better get back to my rounds." He tipped his cap to Abby before going out the door.

Abby pretended to busy herself behind the counter, humming a little tune as if she didn't have a care in the world. Sydney approached her cautiously. "Abby," he said in a quiet voice.

"Hmmm?" She glanced up at him as she continued to organise the new supply of stamps.

"Abby, we need to talk."

"About what, Syd?" she said with raised eyebrows.

"You know about what," he replied, looking very uncomfortable. He also looked very tired as though he hadn't slept a wink.

"No, Syd, I'm afraid I don't. Did we not get those three-penny stamps today? I was sure I ordered them."

"Abby, stop what you are doing and look at me."

Abby sighed and turned towards him. "All right, Syd, I'm looking at you."

"Thank you. Now, about what happened yesterday in the woods, I'm afraid I might have given you the wrong impression and I want you to know how sorry I am if I upset you."

Abby bit her lower lip, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh, you mean when you were going to kiss me before Ben interrupted us?"

Sydney's face reddened as he cleared his throat. "I was not going to kiss you, Abby. I need you to understand that I do not have those kinds of feelings for you. I will always think of you as my sister and I am so sorry if I gave you ideas to the contrary."

Abby turned away before her face could betray her. "I know, Sydney. I was just playing around yesterday. No need to make such a fuss."

She could see him give a slight shake of his head out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not making…" He stopped, as though unsure of what to say next. "Look, I just want to make sure you understand where we stand, you and I."

"Yes, I do understand, Syd. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to run this package over to Doctor Armstrong." Abby grabbed the package from the shelf and hurried out the door before Sydney could see the tears in her eyes. This was going to be more difficult than she thought.

Sydney stood there shaking his head, feeling more uncertain than ever despite Abby's casual dismissal of the whole incident. Perhaps it would be best not to press the matter any further. In time, he was sure it would all blow over.

Nothing more was said again about the near-kiss and soon things were back to normal at the Post Office, much to Sydney's relief. Abby, remembering her conversation with Annie, asked Sydney if Harry was seeing any young ladies at the moment.

Sydney looked at her with amusement. "Harry seeing a young lady? No, not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

Abby shrugged. "No reason, I was just curious."

Sydney narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you up to, Abbs?"

Abby gave him an exasperated look. "I am not up to anything, Syd! Good heavens!"

"Hmm…" he muttered, not quite believing her.

The next day he came in to find Abby and Harry chatting away. Abby was asking Harry what his favourite foods were. Harry's cheeks were a bit pink as he had always been shy around women, even with Abby whom he had known for years. He looked embarrassed to have Sydney see him talking with Abby. "I-I'd better get on with my rounds," he stammered before quickly walking away.

Sydney stood next to Abby. "What have you done to poor Harry?"

"Done? I haven't done anything to him—we were just having a conversation." Abby shook her head at him.

"Abby, this isn't an attempt on your part to make me jealous now, is it?" Sydney asked carefully. "Because that would be very unfair to Harry."

Abby rolled her eyes at him. "Really, Sydney, not everything is about you."

"Well, then, what is it about?"

"Sydney! Harry is my friend and friends sometimes speak to one another! Why are you making such a fuss?"

"All right, I'm sorry," he said, holding his hands up before walking away.

Abby sighed. "Look, Syd, if I tell you something will you promise to keep it to yourself? And, most importantly, not say a word of it to Harry?"

Sydney hesitated for a moment whilst he studied her. He was never one to gossip or approve of secrets, but this seemed to be something important to Abby, and, to be honest, he was now very curious. "All right, I promise," he finally said.

Abby looked rather gleeful as she came and stood close to him. Once again his stomach started to do funny things as he looked into her eyes which were now twinkling with mischief.

"Remember, you are to tell no one about this!" she repeated.

"Cross my heart," he said.

"Well, you know my friend Annie Timmins," she began in a whisper, even though there was no one else in the Post Office.

"I do."

"It turns out she has been secretly in love with Harry for a long time now!"

Sydney raised his eyebrows. "What? Little Annie Timmins is in love with our Harry? And Harry has no idea?"

"None whatsoever! And Annie is far too shy to do anything about it so I have taken it upon myself to help her."

"Oh, Abby, I'm not so sure that is a good idea," Sydney said.

"Why not?"

"Because, it is none of our business—unless Annie asked you to help her?"

"Well, no, not exactly," Abby replied, looking down at her hands.

"Well, then, I think you should leave Annie and Harry be."

"But Harry is so shy and Annie is so shy…at this rate, Harry will never know that Annie fancies him! And that would be such a shame because Annie is perfect for Harry."

"Even so, it is not our place to interfere in their lives," Sydney said piously.

"Oh, Syd, don't you have any sense of romance in that heart of yours?" she admonished him before walking away with a shake of her head.

"Hmmph," he muttered to himself. "I still think it's a bad idea!" he called after her, but she continued to ignore him.

The following Monday, Margaret Brown came into the Post Office looking rather glum.

"Good morning, Mrs Brown, what can I do for you today?" Sydney greeted Thomas's wife and his former schoolteacher with a smile.

"Good morning, Sydney. I would like to send this letter, please," she replied in her gentle voice.

"Is everything all right, Mrs Brown? If you will forgive me, you look a little upset about something," he said as he posted the letter for her.

"I am fine, dear Sydney, thank you. I cannot stop thinking about those poor orphans that Reverend Wilson was telling us about during his sermon yesterday, though. It is preying on my mind to think of any child not having someone to love them. I wish there was something I could do to help them."

Sydney reached out and patted her hand. Remembering that he, too, was once one of those children, Margaret covered his hand with her own and gave him a sympathetic smile.

Abby, who had overheard Mrs Brown whilst she sorted the mail, came over to them. "Mrs Brown, I have an idea. Why don't we hold a fundraiser for the orphans? That way we can all help them together!"

Sydney gave her his special smile, the one that revealed his dimples, setting Abby's heart to fluttering, whilst Margaret beamed at her. "That is a splendid idea, Abigail! I know I would be able to sleep better tonight knowing we are doing something to help those poor children. Perhaps we could hold a bazaar!"

Abby thought for a moment and then a smile spread across her face. "Or perhaps we could hold an auction!"

"An auction?" Margaret replied. "But what could we auction that would raise enough money for the children?"

"Well, we could auction picnic baskets!"

"Picnic baskets!"

"Yes, here's how it would work. We women each make up a delicious picnic basket and the men can bid for them! The winner of each basket gets to have a picnic with the lady who made it!"

Margaret blinked whilst she thought it over and then she began to smile broadly. "That is a splendid idea! We could hold it next Sunday right after church! Oh, I shall go about spreading the word now. Thank you so much!" She grasped each of their hands gratefully before hurrying on her way.

Sydney turned to Abby. "That was a wonderful idea, Abbs," he said.

"Thank you, Syd." She smiled back at him. "Will you be bidding on my basket?"

Sydney shrugged. "It depends on what you put in it."

She gave his shoulder a shove, making him laugh. "You beast! You had better bid on it!"

He flashed his dimples once again. "Well, we shall see."

"Is it all right if I run over to the Pratts' to see Annie for a moment? I want to tell her about the auction."

"Yes, go ahead," Sydney replied.

"Oh, Syd, it will be perfect! Annie could make a basket filled with Harry's favourite things and then he could bid for it! What better way for them to get acquainted than by having a picnic together?"

"Abby!" Sydney groaned. "Is that why you suggested this auction?"

"No, of course not, but you have to admit it will give Annie and Harry the perfect opportunity to meet, don't you agree?"

"You're forgetting one thing," Sydney said rather smugly. "What if Harry doesn't want to bid on Annie's basket?"

Abby walked up to him and stuck her finger in his chest. "He will because you are going to make sure he bids on it!"

He narrowed his eyes at her as she threw him a pert little smile over her shoulder before going out the door.

---

There was general excitement throughout Candleford and Lark Rise once word of the upcoming auction for picnic baskets was spread. Husbands were under strict orders to bid on their wives' baskets and single young ladies giggled together as they imagined which men might bid on theirs. Young lovers saw it as an opportunity to spend some private time together under a sunny sky and those ladies who harboured hopes in their hearts to find love took special care to make their baskets as attractive as possible.

Abby told Annie all of Harry's favourite foods to make and assured her that Harry was bound to bid for her basket if she did. Annie blushed deeply and felt her heart in her throat every time she thought of sharing a picnic alone with Harry Smith.

"Oh, Abby, I don't know if I can go through with it," she told her friend as she wrung her hands together nervously.

"Of course you can, Annie! You must! What better opportunity will you have to get to know him than a picnic?"

"But what if he doesn't want my basket or to know me?" Annie fretted.

"Don't be silly! What man wouldn't be proud to know a girl as pretty and sweet as you? Harry is a lucky man. Just make sure to include chocolate cake and he's as good as yours."

"But what if someone ends up outbidding him?"

Abby put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "Will you stop worrying? It's all going to work out just fine, leave it to me."

That Sunday before church Abby pulled Sydney aside. "Did you talk to Harry?" she whispered.

"Yes, I told him he needed to bid on Annie's basket as a favour to me. He looked as though I had just asked him to run naked through Candleford."

Annie shook her head. "Honestly, what is wrong with that man? He should thank his lucky stars to be admired by someone as wonderful as Annie!"

"Well, he doesn't know Annie admires him now, does he? He probably thinks I've gone mad asking him to do such a thing!"

"Just as long as he does it is all that matters. The rest will take care of itself," Abby said confidently.

Sydney looked rather dubious. "I just hope you know what you are doing."

"Trust me, dear Siddy. We will be dancing at their wedding before the year is out!"

Reverend Wilson ended his sermon with a special plea for everyone to bid generously on the ladies' baskets. "Remember, it is all for those poor, unfortunate orphans!" he reminded them.

The air buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered on the gently sloping lawn outside the church and the ladies with baskets were instructed to stand side-by-side in front of the crowd. Sir Timothy was to be the auctioneer and before he began he looked sternly out at all the men and said, "Gentlemen, I want to see some lively bidding for these very fine ladies standing before you. If not, we will have some very angry women on our hands and we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

The men all laughed and shook their heads.

"Excellent. Let us begin with the lovely Mrs Armstrong." Timothy peered into Laura's basket and said, "Hmmm…I may have to bid on this basket myself! Do I hear a shilling?"

Laura smiled as the bids for her basket grew higher and higher until her handsome husband stepped forth and shouted, "Ten shillings!" making everyone gasp. Needless to say, he won the bid.

One by one the ladies' baskets were bid on and won by the gentlemen with much laughter and good-natured ribbing. The single ladies blushed as the men paid their bids and claimed their baskets and picnic companions.

Dorcas was next and Timothy gave her a little wink as he opened the bidding for her basket. At first the men were afraid to bid for the wife of their Squire, but after Timothy assured them they would not be thrown into the dungeon if they did so, the older men, some of whom had harboured secret crushes on Dorcas whilst she was Postmistress, began to bid quite competitively. Even though she was a happily married woman, they longed for this opportunity to spend an hour in her company and share a meal with her just this once. One elderly gentleman in particular kept the highest bid, a dear old fellow named Nicolaus Wenslow who had once sent Dorcas a love poem many, many years ago and was now quite the lonely widower. The bidding was now up to nine shillings, an amount that none of the men could really afford. Dorcas knew that Timothy was planning to outbid all the men at the last minute, but seeing the hopeful look on old Nicolaus's face tugged at her heart. Just before Timothy made his bid, she put her hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. He looked surprised, but whispered back to her, "If it will make you happy, darling."

"It will, Timothy," she said with a smile. "We shall have our own special picnic tonight!" Her eyes flashed at him so wickedly it made him grin broadly as he turned to the crowd and said, "Going once! Going twice! Bid goes to Mr Wenslow!"

Everyone gasped as they assumed Timothy would bid on his own wife's basket, but then, seeing how happy Nicolaus looked, they all clapped him on the back and congratulated him. He looked almost like a bashful youth again as he approached Dorcas and held his arm out to her. "Lady Dorcas, I am sorry you have to spend an afternoon with an old duffer like me, but may I say what a true honour it is for this old man!"

Dorcas's eyes twinkled at him as she said quite coquettishly, "Why Mr Wenslow, the honour is all mine to be in the company of such a charming and handsome man as you! I was rooting for you to win the whole time!"

Nicolaus's face lit up like a Christmas tree and Timothy chuckled to himself as he watched them walk away, seeing the bounce return in the old man's step.

Annie was next with Abby right behind her. Sydney nudged Harry, "Remember, bid on Annie's basket—she has chocolate cake!"

Harry sighed. "All right, Syd."

Annie stood nervously clutching her basket as Harry opened the bid at a shilling. Abby smiled her thanks to Sydney for getting Harry to bid and then leaned over to her friend. "See? I told you Harry would bid for you!"

Annie's cheeks turned bright red as more men jumped into the bidding. Annie was every bit as pretty as her older sister Laura, but she was completely unaware of it. She would not have believed anyone would bid for her basket outside of Harry, which Annie was sure Abby had something to do with. Harry doggedly kept ahead of the other bidders, thanks to Sydney's prodding, until a heavyset young man with red hair and freckles, the son of one of the local farmers, stepped forward and outbid Harry. Harry grimly counterbid, much to Annie's relief, but then the farmer's son outbid him once again, turning towards Harry with a threatening glare. Sydney elbowed Harry to bid again until the other man barked out, "Eight shillings!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Syd, too rich for my blood!" Then he turned and walked away into the crowd before Sydney could stop him. Sydney looked over at Abby, who was now looking panicked, and poor Annie, who simply looked devastated. Before he even knew what he was doing, he shouted out, "Twelve shillings!" All he knew was he couldn't let poor shy Annie be subjected to a clod such as the lusty red-headed farmer, and be left traumatized. The other man gave up and Sydney won the bid, causing the crowd to erupt with loud clapping.

Sydney claimed Annie and her basket with an apologetic look to Abby, who looked about ready to cry, and then even more so when her turn came next—and this time the red-haired farmer did not lose.

---

"Harry, you dunderhead!" Sydney blasted his employee the next morning when he came into work.

Harry stopped and blinked at Sydney with confusion. "What have I done now?"

"It's what you didn't do! Why did you run off from the auction like that? You were supposed to win Annie's picnic basket! I ask you to do one little thing…."

"Syd, you know how much I make and how high the bidding went. I couldn't afford to spend all my hard earned wages on a silly picnic basket!" Harry said defensively.

"I would have paid the difference, but you ran off before I could tell you!"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry then, Syd, I thought I was finished. Why was it so important that I win that basket anyway?" he asked.

Sydney sighed. "Never mind, the damage is done."

"Damage? What damage? What is going on?"

At that moment Abby came bursting through the door, then slammed it shut behind her before huffing past the both of them.

"That damage," Sydney whispered to Harry.

"Good morning, Abby," Harry greeted her tentatively.

Abby glared at him. "I am not speaking to you, Harry Smith!" she cried. "Or you!" she said, pointing at Sydney.

"Me?" Sydney raised his eyebrows. "At least I won the bid so poor Annie wouldn't be stuck with that red-headed oaf!"

"And I am happy for Annie, but that left me with the man who suddenly sprouted two extra arms!" Abby nearly shouted.

Sydney suddenly found himself struggling to keep a straight face. "Do you mean you got stuck with him instead?"

"Yes, thanks to you! Farmer Ted there thought that kisses were included with his winning bid. I finally had to smash a pudding over his head to get him to stop." She crossed her arms over her chest and stood there fuming.

Sydney had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. "I'm sorry, Abby," he managed to say.

"Hmmph!" Abby grunted in return and then watched in disbelief as both Sydney and Harry burst out laughing.

"Oh, you just think this is so funny, don't you? Well, I hope you two are enjoying yourselves because poor Annie is heartbroken now."

The two men had the sense to stop laughing. "Why is she heartbroken?" Harry asked.

Abby shook her head at him. "Honestly, do we women have to spell everything out for you men? If you haven't figured it out by now, Harry, then I am not going to be the one to explain it to you." She stomped back into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, leaving Harry looking more perplexed than ever.

"Will someone please explain to me what is going on and what I did that was so wrong?" Harry asked plaintively.

Sydney made sure Abby was safely tucked away in the kitchen before putting his arm around his friend's shoulder and whispering, "You were supposed to win the basket because Annie Timmins is sweet on you, Harry. Abby told her what your favourite dishes were and Annie spent all day making them just so she could have a picnic with you."

Harry's face turned bright red and his mouth fell open. "Annie Timmins is sweet on me? But a girl like that wouldn't fancy someone like me. I…I…haven't anything that...I…I'm not...I don't understand! Why me, Syd?"

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself, Harry," Sydney sighed. "Perhaps it is best that you get to your rounds now before Abby comes back and hits you over the head with a pudding!"

Harry nodded, still looking stunned, and after grabbing his bag hurried out the door just as Thomas Brown was coming in to start his day. "Good morning, sir," he said to Sydney. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Sydney sighed. "That remains to be seen, Thomas."

Abby gave Sydney the silent treatment the rest of the morning. Finally, Sydney leaned on the counter next to her and said, "Look, Abby, I'm sorry Harry ruined the picnic for Annie. I did try to get him to win the bid for her basket, but he left before I could stop him! If I had gone after him then Annie would have been stuck with Farmer Ted and you wouldn't have wanted that for your friend, would you?"

Abby sighed. "No, I wouldn't have wanted that."

"And I'm sorry you got stuck with him instead. You know I would have bid for your basket otherwise, right?" He finally got her to look at him, flashing his dimples at her in such a way that it made her stomach do back flips.

Abby sighed resignedly. "Yes, I know you would have. I'm just so disappointed for poor Annie. She was so traumatized by the whole ordeal that I believe she has given up on men altogether and is planning to run away to a convent."

Sydney chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that will happen. She is too pretty to waste on a convent. And don't give up on ol' Harry just yet, either. He may end up surprising you."

"Unless you know something I don't know, I highly doubt it," she grumbled.

Sydney gave her shoulder a nudge. "Oh, I know lots of things that you don't know," he teased, but she didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she just stared straight ahead as though deep in thought.

He continued to stare at her. "So tell me, Abbs, did Farmer Ted succeed?"

"Succeed at what?" she asked as she finally turned towards him.

His eyes drifted down to her lips. "In kissing you."

She gave him a horrified look. "No, of course not! I would just as soon let a pig kiss me!"

Sydney laughed as he put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "I'm glad," he said.

Harry groaned when he realised he had a package in his bag to deliver to the Pratts' shop knowing Annie often worked there. Now that he knew how she felt about him he was too embarrassed to see her. He stood outside the shop for several minutes before finally getting the courage to open the door and go inside.

Pearl and Ruby Pratt were both behind the counter when he came in.

"Good afternoon, Miss Pearl, Miss Ruby." He nodded to them as he placed their package on the counter. He quickly turned around to leave, but Ruby stopped him. "Oh, Harry, please wait here for a moment, we have a package to return to London. They sent us the wrong colour thread again!"

"Of course, Miss Ruby," he sighed as he returned to the counter. Ruby went into the back room, leaving the door wide open, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Annie Timmins sitting in front of a dressmaker's dummy with pins in her mouth as she worked on a hem. As much as he wanted to look away before she could see him, his eyes seemed to be transfixed on her. How pretty she looked in the light by the window as she concentrated on her work. Her long, chestnut coloured hair travelled down the length of her back, held neatly together by a decorative comb, and her sky blue dress matched perfectly the colour of her eyes. Why on earth would a girl as pretty as Annie Timmins be interested in him, he wondered. Before he could tear his gaze away she happened to look up and see him. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open causing all the pins to fall from her lips. They stared at each other for just a moment longer before they both turned away in embarrassment.

Harry was relieved when Ruby came back out and closed the door behind her, shutting Annie away from view again. He took the package from Ruby and quickly took his leave.

Annie's hands shook as she reached down to pick up the fallen pins. Was it only her imagination or did Harry Smith actually smile at her before she looked away?

Chapter 7

Since she had reached the age of sixteen, Abby's dream of Sydney remaining unattached until she was just another year older now seemed within the realm of possibility. After Rachel had gone, no other young lady had managed to catch Sydney's eye. Abby grew more and more hopeful each day and spent a great deal of time imagining her wedding to him whilst she worked at the Post Office. But, as with all the best laid plans, Fate had other ideas and Abby's dreams were about to be dashed once again.

One morning the door to the Post Office opened and a young lady that neither of them had ever seen before came inside. She was a pretty, dark-haired young woman wearing stylish clothes that complimented her tall, slender figure quite well. She looked rather upset, though, as if she had been crying and, indeed, she clutched a white handkerchief in her gloved hand.

"May I help you, miss?" Sydney asked politely.

"Yes, sir, I need to send a telegram, please," she said in a soft, gentle voice.

"Of course," Sydney replied as he hurriedly retrieved the form for her to fill out.

The young woman wrote her message quickly and handed it back to Sydney who, after reading its contents, said, "Oh, miss, I am so sorry for your loss!"

"Thank you," she replied and then burst into tears.

"Oh, dear, you poor thing!" Sydney exclaimed and then came around the counter to take her arm. "Abby, please bring Miss…uh…Miss..."

"Middleton," the woman sobbed.

"Please bring Miss Middleton a chair, won't you?"

Abby nodded and ran quickly into the kitchen to fetch one.

When she returned Sydney helped the young woman sit down. "Thank you, Abby. Would you mind bringing Miss Middleton a cup of tea as well?" he asked.

"Of course, Syd."

Sydney patted Miss Middleton's hand. "There, there now, everything is going to be all right."

Miss Middleton continued to cry into her handkerchief. "I-I am so sorry to be causing such a scene!" she said shakily.

"Nonsense, you have just lost your father—of course you would be upset!"

"It's just that I have nowhere to go now. I cannot afford to stay in our home and I am unable to run the farm on my own. My only hope is to ask my uncle to take me in."

"I see," Sydney said solemnly. "Well, let me get that telegram sent to him right away and then we shall see what he says."

Abby came back with the cup of tea and handed it to Miss Middleton. "Thank you," she said to Abby.

Abby gave her a sympathetic look. "You're very welcome, Miss Middleton. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, thank you, but please, call me Sophia," she said, trying to smile.

"My name is Abby Midwinter and this is Sydney Dowland, our Postmaster."

"Oh, you are Sir Timothy's daughter!" she said.

"Yes, perhaps I could speak to him for you. I am sure he would know a way to help you!"

"Oh, thank you, dear, but I don't want to burden him. I am sure my uncle will know what to do."

Sydney came back from sending the telegram and patted Sophia's hand again. "I will let you know as soon as a reply comes in," he said. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here and wait or I can have the telegram delivered to you."

"I think it best I return home. There is so much for me to do now."

"Of course," Sydney nodded. "I will bring the reply to you personally. I know of your father's farm—it is the one on the western edge of Candleford, is it not?"

"Yes, that is the one. Thank you so much, Mr Dowland, and you, too, Miss Midwinter," she said as she stood up to leave.

Sydney took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Not at all, Miss Middleton."

She gazed up at him with a sad smile. "Please, my name is Sophia."

"And mine is Sydney," he said, smiling gently back at her.

Abby noticed that Sydney held Sophia's hand a tad longer than necessary and suddenly felt a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It was nearly closing time before the telegraph machine came alive with Sophia's reply. Sydney hurried to the machine and quickly wrote down the message, swearing as he read it. "Unbelievable," he muttered angrily.

"What is it, Syd?" Abby asked.

Sydney shook his head as he read the telegram to her. "So sorry. Unable to help at this time."

"How terrible!" Abby exclaimed. "Now what is she going to do?"

"I don't know, but I have to help her somehow. I must get this to her right away," he said as he hurried out the door.

As Sydney walked outside he glanced over at the Golden Lion Hotel and had an idea. Since his father was once the owner of the hotel, Sydney had some pull with the current manager. After a quick discussion with the man he managed to secure not only a position at the hotel for Sophia, but also a place for her to stay in its maids' quarters. Sydney felt better as he made his way to the Middleton farm. Now he could lessen the blow of the disappointing telegram with some good news.

Sophia was so grateful for Sydney's help that she couldn't stop herself from giving him a hug. "I don't know how I will ever repay you, Mr Dowland!" she cried.

"Never mind that," he said. "I was once left all alone in the world myself and if it hadn't been for the kindness of a stranger I don't know where I would be today."

"Bless you," she said as tears began to run down her cheeks again.

Sydney pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. "It was very much my pleasure, Miss Sophia. You mustn't hesitate to ask should you need anything at all. I will remain at your service."

He gave her his best smile as he mounted his horse and Sophia could feel her burden lifting as he rode away. She believed with all her heart that Sydney Dowland had been sent to her from Heaven itself.

Abby had closed up the Post Office for the evening, but had remained inside, waiting for Sydney to come home.

"Well, how did she take the news?" she asked as soon as he came in the door.

"She was disappointed with her uncle's reply, of course, but I was able to find a position for her at the Golden Lion. Isn't that wonderful, Abbs? Now she will have a place to stay nearby and we can get to know her better. I am sure she will be in need of our friendship now that she is alone in the world."

"Yes, that is wonderful, Syd," Abby replied. "That was very kind of you and I am happy for Sophia." She tried hard to smile for him, but inside her heart was breaking. For deep down, she knew that Sydney was hoping to be more than just a friend to Sophia Middleton.

---

Abby was right. Once Sophia was settled into the hotel, Sydney could often be found taking a stroll over to the Golden Lion under the pretext of chatting with its manager, Jason Fielding.

"How is my friend fitting in, Fielding?" Sydney asked him soon after Sophia began work.

"She's a gem, Dowland. Thank you for recommending her," he replied.

"Well, I knew she would be."

"As a matter of fact, I will soon be in need of a head housekeeper and I think Miss Middleton might be perfect for the position. She doesn't shrink from hard work and she seems to have a good head on her shoulders."

Sydney smiled. "Well, as you know, it is very important to me that she be treated well. She's been through a lot lately—I want her to be happy."

"I'll do what I can for her, Dowland. So far she's off to a great start."

Sydney held his hand out to him. "Thank you, Fielding. I owe you one."

"Oh, I won't forget," Fielding said with a wink.

It wasn't long before Sydney began joining Sophia for dinner at the hotel restaurant after her shift had ended, and then they would go for a nice stroll, often arm-in-arm. For Abby, it was getting to be more and more difficult to remain working at the Post Office only to see the man she loved running off to spend time with another woman. She couldn't even dislike Sophia the way she had disliked Rachel because Sophia was a genuinely sweet person who was never anything but kind to her. Realising that Sydney was slowly slipping away from her, Abby became depressed to the point of completely losing her appetite and becoming more and more withdrawn, not even confiding in her best friend Annie.

Annie found out about Sydney and Sophia from the Pratts. She had just finished up for the day when she came out the back room of the shop to find Pearl and Ruby's faces plastered to the window.

"There he goes again!" Pearl said to Ruby.

Annie came and stood next to them. "What are you looking at?" she asked.

Not taking her eyes from the window, Ruby replied, "It is young Mr Dowland. This is the third time this week he's gone over to the hotel!"

"To the hotel? What for?" Annie asked as she craned her neck to see what was going on.

"There is a new young lady recently employed at the hotel that Mr Dowland seems to be courting! We have heard he frequently dines with her in the restaurant and we have seen them strolling together through town in the evenings!"

"Oh, poor Abby," Annie said under her breath.

"What did you say, dear?" Ruby asked.

"Nothing, Miss Ruby. If you'll excuse me, I need to see Abby before she goes home for the evening."

Annie hurried over the Post Office, hoping to find Abby still there, but instead she found Harry as he was just closing up. "Oh, good evening, Mr Smith, did Abby already go home?" she asked, feeling absurd because she couldn't stop the blush that suddenly came over her cheeks.

Harry looked rather flustered himself as he replied, "G-Good evening, Miss Timmins. I'm sorry, but you just missed Abby. She might still be around back, though, getting her horse."

"Thank you, Mr Smith." She gave him a shy smile before running to the back of the Post Office. There she found her friend crying into her horse's neck. Annie ran to her and put her arms around her.

"Oh, Abby, please don't cry!" she said as she patted her back.

"I can't help it. I've lost him, Annie!" Abby sobbed into her friend's shoulder.

"What do you mean, Abby?"

"Sydney. He's in love with someone else!"

Annie rubbed her back. "Calm down, Abby, and tell me what is going on," she asked gently.

Abby told her about Sophia and how Sydney had helped her secure a position at the hotel and was now spending all his free time with her.

Annie sighed and hugged her friend tighter. "I am so sorry, Abby. I had no idea until the Pratts said something about seeing Sydney going to the hotel. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't—it hurt too much to say the words." Abby continued to cry.

"Are you sure he is serious about her and not just being a friend?"

Abby shook her head. "He loves her, Annie. I can see it in the way he looks at her."

Annie patted her back. "I was afraid this was going to happen someday."

"I was so close, Annie. I could feel him finally starting to look at me differently—and then Sophia had to come along."

"Well, perhaps it was meant to be. You may be destined for someone else, Abby. Someone you haven't even met yet!"

"I don't want anyone else. I will never want anyone else." Abby pulled away from her friend and dried her tears with the back of her sleeve. "I had better go home now. Thank you for listening, Annie."

Annie looked worriedly at her. "I'm always here for you, Abby, you know that. Don't give up hope just yet—you know Sydney, he's always kind to everyone. Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

Abby shook her head. "This is different, Annie, I can feel it."

Once Dorcas found out about Sophia, she became increasingly worried about Abby. Despite her attempts to get her to talk to her, Abby became more withdrawn and would barely eat a thing. Even Timothy noticed the change in her.

"Abigail," he said to her one evening at dinner. "Why are you not eating? Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine, Papa," she said listlessly.

"You are obviously not fine, darling. You haven't even touched your food."

"I'm just not hungry. Please, Papa, may I be excused?"

Timothy stared at her for a moment and sighed. "Yes, you may be excused."

After Abby left the room Timothy looked worriedly at Dorcas. "Do you know what is bothering her?" he asked.

Dorcas glanced over at Benjamin who was looking just as curious. "We'll talk later, Timothy. Right now I need to go to her."

Dorcas knocked lightly on Abby's bedroom door before going inside. She found Abby crying into her pillow. Without saying a word, she went to her daughter and gathered her into her arms, holding her for a long time until all of Abby's tears were spent.

"What am I going to do, Ma?" Abby finally asked in a hoarse voice.

Dorcas made her look at her. "I will tell you what you are going to do: You are going to pick yourself up and move on with your life, just as I did when the very same thing happened to me."

When Abby began to protest, Dorcas gave her a little shake and looked sternly at her. "Abigail Midwinter, you are a beautiful, vibrant, intelligent young woman who needs to learn that there is more to life than securing a man. There is a big beautiful world out there just waiting for you to explore and people you have never met waiting to be a part of your life. It is time you were introduced to them. I know it is hard for you right now…of course I know! But, darling, we don't always get what we want in this life. Sometimes life has other plans for us and we just have to accept it."

"I will never love anyone the way that I love Sydney," Abby said sadly.

Dorcas sighed, remembering saying those very same words to her own father after having to let go of Timothy so long ago. She hugged Abby to her once again. "Perhaps you won't, darling, but there will be other people coming into your life in time that you will grow to love, too. I promise you that."

When Abby didn't respond Dorcas continued. "Perhaps it is time for you to stop working at the Post Office, Abigail. Only time and distance from the situation will allow you to move on."

Abby pulled away from her. "No, please, Ma, I need to stay there. It would be worse if I didn't know what was going on and, besides, I can't fight for him if I'm not there!"

Dorcas couldn't help but smile to hear there was still some fire left in her daughter. "As you wish, but if I see you are still not eating and becoming more depressed, I will insist you stop spending time there, understood?"

Abby nodded hesitantly.

"Good. Now, I am going bring you something to eat and I am going to sit here until you have finished it."

"Thank you, Ma."

She looked back at Abby before leaving the room. "You will get through this, Abigail. I promise you."

After Dorcas was satisfied that Abby had eaten enough of her dinner, she sought out Timothy in the parlour.

"Well?" he asked.

Dorcas sighed and sat down next to him. "It seems our Sydney is in love with Sophia Middleton, the new girl at the Golden Lion."

"Seth Middleton's daughter—the farmer who recently passed away?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, what does that have to do with Abigail?"

Dorcas looked pityingly at him. "Come now, Timothy, you know how devoted Abby's always been to Sydney—ever since she was a little girl! She's in love with him, darling."

"In love with him!" he exclaimed. "But she is too young to be in love, Dorcas! Sydney is a grown man and she is just a child!"

"Timothy," she said as she placed her hand on his cheek sympathetically. "Abby is sixteen years old. You have to face the fact that she is nearly a grown woman now. She's loved Sydney her whole life. To see him courting another woman now has broken her heart."

"But that's ridiculous! She doesn't even know what love is!"

Dorcas shook her head at him. "May I remind you, dear, how we were at her age? We spent half our time kissing under that tree, remember? We knew very well what love was then."

Timothy put his head in his hands. "Oh, dear God, you're right. What do we do now, Dorcas? How do we protect her from the heartbreak we both went through after losing each other?"

"We can't, Timothy. We can only be there for her to help her pick up the pieces."

"My poor girl," he said quietly.

Dorcas put her arm around his shoulders. "She's strong, Timothy. And she has us. Perhaps it is time we exposed her to a wider society—introduce her to other young men who are closer to her in age."

Timothy nodded his head with a sigh. "Yes, perhaps it is time. How is it she's grown up so fast, Dorcas?"

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It doesn't matter, Timothy. No matter how grown up she becomes, she will always be your little girl and she will always need her Papa to be there for her."

---

The next morning Dorcas paid a visit to the Post Office. "Sydney, do you have a moment?" she asked her son.

"Of course, Ma, is something wrong?"

Mindful of Harry standing nearby sorting the mail, Dorcas took Sydney's arm and led him into the kitchen. She could hear his housekeeper and cook, Mrs York, singing to herself upstairs as she straightened the rooms, so she was assured of some privacy. Sydney looked curiously at his mother as they sat down at the table.

"Sydney, I need to talk to you about Abby."

"Is Abby all right, Ma?" he asked with concern.

Dorcas took a deep breath. "Well, no, I'm afraid she isn't. You are aware that she has feelings for you, are you not?"

Sydney suddenly looked uncomfortable and shifted his gaze to his hands. "Yes, I am. But, Ma, I haven't done anything to encourage those feelings. I've told her time and again that I love her like a little sister and that I am too old for her."

"I know, Sydney, but the fact remains that she's loved you her whole life and is now in love with you. This relationship you've developed with Miss Middleton has upset her terribly."

Sydney put his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm sorry, Ma. I'm sorry that this has upset her so, but what am I supposed to do? I care very much for Sophia and I think she might be the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I don't want to hurt Abby. I would rather die than cause her any pain."

Dorcas put her hand on his arm. "I know you don't want to hurt her. That is what we need to discuss—what is best for Abby now. Perhaps it would be best if she doesn't spend so much time here. Seeing you with Sophia might end up being too much for her."

Sydney sighed. "I don't know, Ma. She loves it here. If I asked her to leave that might upset her even more—as if I am rejecting her altogether. Perhaps if she stays, which is completely up to her, of course, she will grow used to the idea of me being with someone else. Abby is my family, my sister and my friend. Maybe one day that will be enough for her. It will have to be enough for her."

Dorcas studied him for a long moment until he began to feel uncomfortable. Finally she said, "Sydney, are you sure you haven't any feelings for Abby outside of brotherly affection? A moment, perhaps, when you might have thought otherwise?"

Sydney's eyes slid away from his mother's as he remembered that moment down at the folly in the woods, when he had almost kissed Abby before being interrupted. But that surely had been nothing more than an aberration, an odd moment of weakness that could have happened to any man when tempted by a beautiful girl! But he knew how perceptive his mother was and it was useless to tell her anything but the truth.

He rubbed his eyes, unable to look at her. "There might have been one moment, but it was nothing. I assure you, Ma, nothing happened."

"Because Benjamin interrupted you."

He looked up at her with surprise.

"Abby told me you almost kissed her, Sydney," she said, suddenly looking very tired.

"I wasn't going to kiss her, Ma! I told you, it was just a brief moment when the idea crossed my mind—nothing more!"

Dorcas stood up then to leave. "Just be careful, Sydney. Abby is feeling very fragile right now and if she becomes any more upset then I will make the decision for her not to work here anymore. If Sophia is the woman you want, then I hope you will make that perfectly clear to Abby so there will be no cause for misunderstanding in the future."

"Of course, Ma. Like I said, I would do anything to keep Abby from getting hurt. She means the world to me."

"I know, Sydney. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of her feelings."

Sydney stood silently whilst Dorcas turned to leave, but then he stopped her. "Tell me something, Ma, and I want you to be completely honest."

Dorcas turned and looked at him. "I am always honest with you, Sydney."

"Then answer me this: Even if I were to have feelings for Abby do you really think Sir Timothy would allow his only daughter to marry the illegitimate son of James Dowland and a woman who was of no consequence?"

Something akin to anger flashed in Dorcas's eyes for just a moment before she marched back up to Sydney and looked him in the eye, causing him to almost step back. He was reminded once again that, despite her diminutive size, Lady Dorcas Midwinter was a formidable woman.

"Sydney Dowland, don't you ever underestimate Sir Timothy. He loves you like a son and he respects the man you have become. Do you think for one moment that he would have allowed Abby to work here with you all this time if he felt that way about you?"

Sydney shook his head, feeling ashamed. "No, I suppose not."

"Of course he wouldn't. Don't you ever let me hear you suggest that of him ever again, young man. Do I make myself clear?"

Sydney couldn't help but smile at her ferocity. "Yes, and I'm sorry, Ma, but you can't blame me for taking that into consideration. He is the Squire, after all, and Abby deserves to marry within her class and live a life beyond what I could offer her here at the Post Office. I wouldn't want to deny her that better life."

Dorcas's gaze softened as she placed a hand on his cheek. "Oh, son, don't let me see you make the same mistake that I did by making such assumptions. And you discredit Abby when you do so. She doesn't care about those things. She has always been more comfortable here than she ever was at the manor. And what Sir Timothy wants more than anything is for his daughter to be truly happy."

He took her hand and kissed it. "All right, Ma, I believe you. And I'm sorry if I upset you."

As she walked away he began to chuckle. "I only hope that one day Sophia will love me as ferociously as you love Sir Timothy!"

She turned back to him with a wan smile. "Abby already does love you that way, Sydney."

---

Abby was grateful it was now Sunday, to have a day off from work with time to herself to think. It was now late summer and unusually hot in the countryside for September. She sat herself under the shade of a tree to escape the blazing sun and stared out across the horizon, thinking of all the things her mother had said to her and how she must get on with her life. What else would she do, though? She supposed her father would pay for her to travel the world and see all the exotic places her mother had told her about, but then what?

The air was now stiflingly hot, even in the shade. Abby thought of the small lake that was hidden behind the trees past the meadow where she and Benjamin often swam when they were younger, and the place she often found herself when she wanted to be alone or read her favourite book. Sometimes Annie and Sydney would join them and they would spend a happy day laughing and shouting in the water. Sydney would pick Ben up and throw him into the lake repeatedly as the little boy shouted, "Again! Again!"

The cool water of the lake beckoned to her and even though she didn't have her swimming clothes with her it didn't really matter. There wouldn't be a soul around the lake as it was far from the footpaths and the farmers' fields. She would be able to swim naked.

She was really hot now by the time she walked down to the lake and as she took off her clothes she hung them neatly on the branches of the tree closest to the water. The water felt cool and refreshing as she stepped into it. After swimming a few laps, she turned and floated on her back, gazing up into a sky of azure blue and watching as small, puffy white clouds floated across its palette, casting small shadows over the water as they passed the sun. It was peaceful and soothing, and the only sounds she heard were the birds singing in the trees and the occasional fly or bee buzzing past her.

She loved it here and she didn't want to move away to live in another part of the world no matter how enticing her mother made the outside world sound. But then she thought of Sophia taking her place beside Sydney at the Post Office and she knew she wouldn't be able to stay in Candleford any longer if that were to happen.

She stayed in the water until her skin began to wrinkle and when she stepped out of it she stood with her eyes closed, facing the sun and allowing its rays to dry her. A gentle breeze passed over her bare, wet skin causing her to shiver slightly, but it felt good, almost titillating, and she wondered briefly what Sydney would do if he were to find her here like this. Would he be able to resist her then?

She was finally dry enough to put her clothes back on and by the time she returned home Sydney had arrived to join them for Sunday dinner. He took one look at her half-wet hair hanging loosely down her back and said, "Have you been down to the lake, Abby?"

"Yes, I went for a swim, Syd. Hot day, you know."

"A swim?" He looked her up and down, seeing only her dry, clean dress. "But you don't have your swimming clothes with you!"

She arched an eyebrow at him as she passed him by. "I was all alone, Sydney. I didn't need them."

His mouth dropped open as he was rendered rather speechless, but then his mother came in into the room. "Oh, hello, dear, hot day, isn't it?"

Sydney, who hadn't been too bothered by the heat before now, found himself tugging at his collar, wondering how the temperature could have shot up so quickly all of a sudden.

Dorcas looked at him. "Are you all right, darling? You look rather flushed."

Sydney cleared his throat as his gaze followed Abby up the staircase. "I'm fine, Ma. Like you said, hot day."

---

After the conversation Sydney had with his mother, he was very conscientious about not flaunting his relationship with Sophia in front of Abby. He made little, if any, mention of Sophia during the day, and he waited until Abby had gone home from the Post Office before walking over to the hotel to spend some time with his lady friend. He believed his fondness for Sophia was growing into love and he longed to have her all to himself so he could finally kiss her.

The September heat gave way to an early October frost, followed once again by another unseasonable heat wave that the Americans would have called an 'Indian Summer.' The days were growing shorter and Sydney knew he and Sophia would not be able to continue their evening walks once the early darkness came—not unless they were betrothed to be married. He would have to make the most of these last few evenings.

He arrived at the hotel just after closing the Post Office for the day and found Sophia waiting for him in the lobby. She smiled when she saw him. "Good evening, Sydney," she greeted him.

"Good evening, Sophia. How was your day?"

"Very well, thank you. I never would have dreamt I would enjoy working at a hotel as much as I do The Golden Lion."

"I'm glad." Sydney smiled at her. "I hope Mr Fielding has been treating you well?"

"Oh, Sydney, he's been wonderful—such a kind man! Since he has made me head housekeeper he jokingly calls me his 'right-hand man.' She laughed softly but Sydney wasn't quite sure he liked Fielding being that kind to his girl. But Sophia did look happy and that was all Sydney wanted for her.

He took her arm and they began their stroll through town, only this time Sydney continued past the edge of town to a small grove of trees to the north. A small bench stood under the largest tree and Sydney had Sophia sit down upon it before sitting next to her.

He gazed lovingly at her before reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, making her blush. "I have enjoyed the time we have spent together so much, Sophia," he said.

"So have I, Sydney," she said, looking down demurely.

"I've come to care for you a great deal, I hope you know that."

"Yes. I care for you, too, Sydney."

She finally looked up and met his gaze and he smiled at her. Her eyes were a beautiful and gentle dark brown which, for some reason, suddenly reminded him of Abby. But he quickly pushed any thoughts of Abby from his mind. Instead, he let his gaze roam down to Sophia's lips and before he could think, he leaned forward and kissed her.

To finally feel her lips upon his sent a little shock wave up his spine, but before it had barely begun, Sophia pulled away. "I-I think we should go back now," she said rather breathlessly.

Sydney stared at her for a moment, wondering if he had done something wrong. "Of course, whatever you like. He stood and held his hand out to her to help her up and then they slowly walked back to the hotel.

"I hope I didn't offend you with my kiss, Sophia," Sydney said after they had walked in silence for several minutes.

Sophia turned to him. "Oh, no, of course not! It was lovely, Sydney. It's just...well…it rather took me by surprise, is all."

He patted her hand as it rested on his arm. "I see. Well, let me warn you in advance, Miss Sophia Middleton, that I plan on kissing you again very soon!" He smiled at her, showing his devastating dimples, and she couldn't help but blush as she returned his smile.

They had now reached the door of the hotel. "Well, good night, dear," Sydney said as he took her hand and kissed it.

"Good night, Sydney."

Two days later, Sydney took Sophia for yet another stroll where they ended up standing at the edge of a field, watching as the huge harvest moon rose up from the horizon. It was so beautiful that Sydney found himself putting his arm around Sophia and pulling her close to him. Her hand rested on his chest and once again he leaned down and kissed her. This time she didn't pull away and Sydney was encouraged to deepen the kiss, wanting so badly to make this physical connexion with her. Suddenly, she pushed away from him and gasped, "What are you doing, Sydney?" Her hand flew to her mouth and Sydney blinked at her with confusion.

"I…I'm so sorry, Sophia. I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought you wanted me to kiss you."

Sophia was looking rather horrified. "That is not how a gentleman kisses a lady! Not until after they are married, at least!"

Sydney's cheeks reddened with the heat of embarrassment, feeling like a complete fool. "You're right, Sophia. I am so very sorry. Please forgive me!"

She removed her hand from her mouth and was now looking rather sheepish. "No, I am the one who is sorry, Sydney. I'm afraid I might have overreacted. I do want to kiss you, it's just I…I guess I'm not used to a man's kisses just yet."

He took her hands in his. "No, I am the one to blame. We shall take things more slowly from now on, I promise."

She smiled gratefully up at him. "Thank you, dear Sydney."

They did try kissing on several more occasions and Sophia learnt to relax a bit more and not push away from him. But, try as he might, Sydney never quite felt the electricity he expected to feel whilst kissing Sophia Middleton.

Chapter 8

As the end of October approached, the excitement of the coming Mischief Night began to occupy everyone's minds. Children were heard giggling as they schemed up pranks to play on their friends, and the older crowd felt like children again, too, as they hatched some mischievous plans of their own for their neighbours.

Dorcas watched her son Ben as he sat whispering with his friend Danny who had joined them for lunch that day. "Are you boys planning some mayhem for Mischief Night?" she asked them.

"Who, us?" Ben said, pretending to look innocent.

"Don't give me that, Benjamin. You are my son which means Mischief Night is in your blood!"

Timothy folded his newspaper down slightly to peer over at his wife. "I think the question to ask is if you are planning any mayhem for Mischief Night, darling."

"Who, me?" she said with her uncanny ability to look both innocent and wicked at the same time, making Timothy grin.

"Don't give me that, Dorcas," he mimicked her. "To this day I'm still finding sticky spots on me in places I didn't even know existed."

"You're what?" Benjamin gave his father a puzzled look.

"Nevermind. Just don't let a girl lure you under a tree on Mischief Night, Benjamin."

Ben scrunched up his nose with disgust. "I wouldn't let a girl near me with a ten foot pole!"

Timothy grunted as he returned to his paper. "You won't feel that way for long, son. Soon you won't be able to think of anything else." He turned down one corner of the paper again and winked at Dorcas who suddenly found herself blushing.

"Well, now, boys," she said to Ben and Danny, "I think it's time you went outside and got some fresh air." She made shooing motions at them. "Go on, out with you!"

When the boys were safely outside, Dorcas slowly took the paper out of Timothy's hands and then sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You haven't told me if you were planning any mayhem for Mischief Night, Timothy."

"Hmmm…" he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Must we wait for Mischief Night to be mischievous?"

Dorcas pretended to ponder his question. "Well, I do think that would be breaking the rules."

Timothy's eyes twinkled as he quickly stood up with her still in his arms. "Then let's break them!"

Abby had been pondering what to do for Mischief Night herself, but was unable come up with a single idea. She would usually play a prank on Sydney or Harry, but now with Sydney involved with Sophia she couldn't quite muster up the enthusiasm for it anymore. She continued to think whilst she experimented with her hair in front of the mirror. She decided she looked more mature wearing it up so she found more hairpins and created a new hairstyle for herself. Once she was satisfied with the result she went into town to find Annie.

As she walked through Candleford she was glancing into the shop windows, admiring her new look in the reflection of the glass, when she happened to see Annie pass right by her.

"Annie!" she called out to her friend. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

Annie turned and looked at her. "Oh, Abby, I'm sorry! I thought you were Sophia! You look just like her from behind with your hair up like that."

Abby raised her eyebrows. "I do?"

"Well, yes, you are both about the same height and have the same colour hair. I would say you look very much like her!" Annie said as she studied her.

Abby's eyes widened and then she suddenly grasped her friend's shoulders. "Annie, you're a genius!"

"I am?" Annie said with surprise.

"Yes! You have just given me my Mischief Night idea!"

Annie suddenly looked worried. "Oh, no, now what are you up to?"

"Oh, it's perfect! And I'm going to need your help."

"Oh, dear," Annie said, looking even more worried.

Abby took her arm as they began walking. "Don't worry; all I need you to do is make me a dress."

"A dress?" Annie was still looking confused.

"Annie, must you respond to everything I say with a question?" Abby said with exasperation.

"I'm sorry; I'm just trying to figure out what that mind of yours is getting me into."

Abby looked quickly around to make sure no one was listening, then she leaned her head towards her friend and whispered, "I need you to make me a dress exactly like that gorgeous purple one that Sophia always wears. Can you do it?"

Annie stared at her. "Whatever for?"

"Because, I'm going to dress up like Sophia to fool Sydney on Mischief Night—and then I'm going to kiss him!"

Annie's eyes widened and she started to shake her head. "Oh, Abby, that is wicked! Why would you do such a thing? Don't you think he will notice that you are not Sophia? And what if he's already out with Sophia during that night?"

"No, no, I overheard Sydney telling Harry yesterday that Sophia was planning on staying inside that night because she doesn't like Mischief Night—it makes her too nervous. Sydney sounded rather disappointed, too. Look, Annie, I may never get another chance to kiss Sydney before he marries Sophia. I'll have someone tell him that Sophia changed her mind and is waiting for him in the garden of the hotel. I will be standing in the darkest spot so he won't be able to see my face and then I will kiss him and run off before he can figure out it was me!"

Annie was now looking mortified. "You can't be serious! It will never work!"

Abby rubbed her hands together with a gleam in her eye. "Of course it will work. The question is can you make the dress for me? I'm sure Sophia will wear it to church this Sunday and you can follow her and make sketches, or whatever you need to do."

Annie hesitated to answer, not really wanting to be part of such a wicked scheme.

"I have the money to pay for the materials and your time, Annie, if that's what you're worried about."

"That is not what I am worried about, Abby. I am worried about what Sydney is going to do to you when he finds out it wasn't Sophia he was kissing!"

That Sunday, Sophia did indeed wear the purple dress and Annie could be spotted following her discreetly about the church grounds with a small piece of paper and pencil in hand, whilst Abby studied Sophia's hairstyle so she could duplicate it come Mischief Night.

"Well, what do you think?" Abby asked Annie after Sydney left with Sophia on his arm.

"It seems simple enough. I do have that particular pattern on hand. I just need to find similar buttons and trim."

"Good!" Abby exclaimed happily. "Now, it doesn't have to be exact. Remember, it will be dark that night and I will only be there long enough to kiss him."

Annie gave a low moan. "I just know God is going to strike me down for this!"

"Don't be silly, Annie, it's all for Mischief Night! We are supposed to be mischievous!" She linked her arm through her friend's, and after returning to town they spent the rest of the afternoon going through the materials in the Pratts' shop, trying to find everything they would need for the dress.

Since Abby was a paying customer, Pearl and Ruby had no objection to Annie spending her time working on Abby's dress. Pearl came over and stared at it as Annie arranged it on the dressmaker's dummy. "Hmmm…there is something so familiar about this dress, but I can't seem to place it." She continued to walk full circle around the dummy as she tapped her finger on her lips.

Annie gave her a weak smile. "It's a very common pattern, Miss Pearl. I'm sure you've seen it many times before."

Pearl continued to stare at it. "No, I am positive I have seen this very dress—quite recently, in fact." Finally, she gave up with a shake of her head. "Well, I am sure it will come to me in time."

Once Pearl left her alone, Annie breathed a sigh of relief and worked even faster. The sooner she finished the dress, the sooner she could wash her hands of the whole devious plan.

When Abby tried on the dress for Annie after fixing her hair as similarly to Sophia's as possible, Annie couldn't help but shake her head appreciatively. "It really is uncanny how much you do look like Sophia!" she said. "Especially from behind!"

"Do you really think so?" Abby asked as she regarded herself in the mirror from all angles.

"Yes, I really do. This actually might work after all!"

Abby gave her friend a hug. "Of course it will work! You have done a magnificent job with this dress. Oh, Annie, this is going to be the most important night of my life!"

"I just hope nothing goes wrong, Abby."

Abby looked at herself once more in the mirror and smiled. "Everything is perfect, Annie. What could possibly go wrong?"

---

Abby awoke the morning of Mischief Night with butterflies in her stomach. She went over the details of her plan in her mind knowing it just had to work! She was to stay in town after the Post Office closed for the evening and meet with Annie at the Pratts' shop to change into the new dress. Annie would then hide Abby's old dress behind the forge to be waiting for her after she ran away from Sydney. That way, once she had changed clothes, she and Annie could stroll around town, enjoying the fun of the evening without Sydney suspecting a thing.

She remained fidgety all through the day whilst she worked at the Post Office. Thomas was out on his rounds all day, but Harry had finished his local rounds quickly and was back to sorting the afternoon mail whilst Sydney and Abby stayed busy helping customers. Once things slowed down later that afternoon, Abby leaned against the counter, tapping her fingers nervously whilst frequently glancing at the clock.

"What is going on with you, Abby?" Sydney asked after listening to Abby's tapping noises for several minutes.

"Hmmm?" Abby murmured distractedly.

"You're as nervous as a fox in a roomful of dogs."

"Sorry, Syd, I'm just looking forward to tonight."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh? And what sort of mischief do you have planned for tonight?"

Abby shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, nothing special. Annie and I are just planning to play a prank on Laura and Richard later, that's all. How are you planning on spending the evening, Syd?"

Sydney sighed and leaned against the counter next to her. "I don't think I'll do anything this year. Since Sophia doesn't want to come out tonight I think I'll just stay home, too."

Abby nodded. "Yes, I suppose you wouldn't have any fun without Sophia with you. Perhaps she will change her mind."

"I doubt it," Sydney said gloomily.

"How about you, Harry, do you have any mischief planned for tonight?" Abby asked him.

"No, not me, Abby, I think I'm too old for such things now," Harry replied.

"Too old? No one's too old for Mischief Night, Harry! My ma still loves playing pranks on people and she's a lot older than you!"

Harry gave an apologetic shrug. "I wouldn't know who to play a prank on."

Abby sighed loudly. "Honestly, you two are becoming a pair of old fuddy-duddies! Well, I am going to make some tea whilst it's still slow." She went back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to chat alone.

As she waited for the kettle to boil, Abby thought she heard Sydney say Sophia's name, so she crept nearer the door to eavesdrop. She knew better than to do such a thing, but it was imperative she know exactly what Sydney was going to do that night and whether he would suddenly decide to visit Sophia instead of staying at home. Then she overheard something far more interesting:

"I don't know how Sophia feels anymore, Harry. I adore her but whenever we kiss it feels like something is missing. She doesn't respond the way I had hoped she would."

Abby felt a rush of jealousy flow through her, as she thought of Sophia's lips touching Sydney's.

"Maybe you just don't kiss very well, Syd," Harry teased him.

"Ha ha, very funny, Harry. No, I think she's just shy, or maybe she doesn't feel the same way for me that I feel for her."

"It's possible…" Harry replied thoughtfully. "Or maybe she just needs time."

The kettle began to whistle and Abby hurried back to remove it from the heat. So Sophia wasn't responding to Sydney's kisses! Abby shook her head in amazement that any woman wouldn't be thrilled to kiss Sydney Dowland. But it sent a surge of hope through her that perhaps all wasn't well in Paradise for Sydney and Sophia.

"Don't worry, Syd," she whispered, "I'll make up for Sophia's kisses tonight!" Then she smiled to herself as she poured the tea. She couldn't wait for Mischief Night to begin!

Abby felt the excitement build as Sydney finally put the closed sign on the door. "I'm sorry you won't be joining in the fun tonight, Syd," she said to him.

"I'll be fine, Abby, you go and have fun, now."

Poor Sydney looked rather depressed and Abby's heart went out to him.

"See you, Syd. Have fun tonight, Abby," Harry called out as he went out the door.

"Thanks, Harry. Good night!" Abby waved to him before turning back to Sydney. "Honestly, I don't know why you two don't go out tonight and do something together! You don't have to play pranks on anyone."

"Well, you know Harry. He would rather stay home with a book than get up to any mischief."

"Hmmm, sounds like Annie. I had to beg her to come out with me tonight."

Sydney chuckled. "Well, you girls have fun. Good night, Abbs," he said as he opened the door for her.

Abby kissed him on the cheek. "Good night, Syd."

She then hurried over to the Pratts' to wait with Annie until it was dark enough to carry out her plan. Harry, meanwhile, pretended to head towards home, but then double-backed behind the building across the street from the Pratts' shop where he sat down and did some waiting himself.

Annie was looking nervous when Abby came into the shop. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Abby?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, I am more than sure, Annie. Sydney is going to stay in tonight so that is going to make things much easier!"

"But how are you going to get him to come outside to meet you?" Annie asked.

"I'll figure something out. Now, let me get into that dress so I have time to fix my hair!"

By the time Abby was satisfied that she looked enough like Sophia, it was already dark and they could see children darting through the streets laughing. She glanced over at the Post Office and could see that its windows were lit meaning Sydney was still at home.

"Now remember, Annie, as soon as I have gone to the back of the hotel, you run and hide my dress behind the forge."

Annie gave a big sigh. "All right, Abby. I hope this works. Good luck!" She gave her friend a kiss on the cheek then let her out the door.

Before she ran behind the hotel, Abby collared a young boy who was running past her. "You there, how would you like to earn a few pennies?"

"Doing what, miss?" he asked suspiciously.

"All I need you to do is go to the Post Office and knock on the door. When Mr Dowland opens it tell him that Miss Middleton wishes for him to meet her in the back garden of the Golden Lion. Can you do that?"

"Sure, miss, that sounds easy enough."

"Good. Here are your pennies, now recite back to me what I just told you to say."

The boy clutched the pennies in his hand and said, "Miss Middleton wishes for you to meet her in the back garden of the Golden Lion."

"Very good. Now, off you go, then." The boy sprinted off towards the Post Office and Abby sprinted to the back of the hotel where she found the darkest spot in the garden to wait. She stood facing the bushes so that her back would be facing whoever would approach. She couldn't risk Sydney seeing her face long enough to know it was her.

Meanwhile, Annie slipped out of the shop with Abby's other dress balled up under her arm and hurried off towards the forge.

Harry, who had fallen asleep for a few moments, woke up in time to see Annie heading towards the forge. He quickly stood up and adjusted the black mask he had placed over his eyes before running stealthily to the side of the forge, where he waited for Annie to reemerge.

Sydney opened the door to find a young boy standing on his step. "Mr Dowland?" the boy asked.

"Yes, son, I am Mr Dowland."

"Miss Middleton wishes for you to meet her in the back garden of the…of the…" The boy screwed up his eyes as though trying to remember his lines. "Oh, yes, at the Golden Lion."

"Does she really?" Sydney said with surprise.

The boy nodded, then ran off to find his mates.

"Well, well, well," Sydney said to himself as he smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Perhaps Sophia is up for some mischief tonight after all!"

With his spirits now lifted, he locked the door and walked quickly to the hotel.

Annie placed Abby's dress carefully on top of a crate behind the forge where Abby would be sure to find it, then walked quickly back towards the street. Just as she came from behind the building, though, a masked man stepped out of the darkness and caught her in his arms. Before she could even scream she heard him whisper, "Happy Mischief Night, beautiful Annie." Then he kissed her soundly on the lips.

Annie was so shocked she found herself frozen to the spot. But as soon as the man's lips left her own she began to yell and strike out as him as hard as she could.

"Ouch! Ow! Annie, stop it, it's me! It's Harry! Harry Smith!"

Annie's arm froze in mid strike. "Harry?"

Harry took off his mask so she could see his face and Annie's hand flew up to her mouth.

"Harry, what are you doing? You scared me half to death!"

"I…I'm so sorry, Annie, I didn't mean to frighten you like that. I just…I wanted…I…I really like you, Annie, and I…I thought, being Mischief Night, if I wore this mask, then I…I could steal a kiss from you without you knowing it was me." The words stumbled out of him as he looked down at his hands miserably, feeling like a complete and utter fool, knowing she would probably never want to speak to him ever again.

Annie placed her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her, and his gentle eyes suddenly filled with hope.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered as she stood on tiptoes and kissed him soundly back.

Abby stood nervously waiting in the darkness of the garden knowing Sydney could arrive at any moment. Sure enough, she soon heard the sound of leaves crunching as someone approached and her heart began to pound in her chest. This was it—this was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life!

"Sophia?" She heard Sydney's voice say softly as he placed his hand upon her shoulder.

Abby took a deep breath and turned quickly around, placing her arms around Sydney's neck as she leaned forward and kissed him. From the first touch of his lips she felt a shock go through her so great that her arms tightened convulsively around him, pulling him as close to her as possible. Sydney seemed surprised at first, but then his arms went around her, too, as he returned her kiss, marvelling at how, for the first time, their lips seemed to meet so perfectly, moving in perfect unison as though instinctively knowing what the other wanted. Abby moaned as the kiss deepened and her body yearned to melt into his, suddenly not able to get close enough to him. Sydney now seemed just as frantic as she, tightening his arms around her, unable to believe that Sophia finally wanted him as much as he wanted her. He could now feel every cell in his body coming alive and thrumming with desire as he tasted her sweetness and absorbed the heat of her body into his own.

Abby hardly knew where she was anymore, where her body ended and his began, but a little voice in the back of her head told her she must get away now, quickly, before he realised who she really was. With all the strength she could muster, she suddenly pulled away from him, nearly stumbling with the effort, and then began to run quickly through the bushes and away into the darkness.

It took Sydney several moments to recover himself, but when he did he followed after her, shouting out as he ran, "Sophia! Please don't go! Come back! Sophia!"

Abby ran as though the devil himself were after her until she finally arrived gasping behind the forge where she found her old dress on the crate and quickly changed into it. Then she took her hair down and combed it out with her fingers. But suddenly her legs could no longer hold her up and she sat down hard upon the old crate. Her whole body began to tremble as she replayed their kiss in her mind and emotions, so deep she never even knew existed, flooded through her, causing her to burst into tears—tears of frustrated desire, desperate dreams and joy mingled with sorrow. Joy that she had finally shared the most incredible kiss she could have ever imagined with Sydney and sorrow that he believed it had been with Sophia.

---

Sydney ran through town looking for Sophia, but she was nowhere to be found. She had run in the opposite direction of the hotel so he assumed she had not yet returned home. He looked around for Abby and Annie, hoping they might have seen her run by, but they were nowhere to be found, either. He finally sat down on the bench across from the Post Office to catch his breath and replay what had just happened between them in his mind. Sophia must have been trying to prove to him that she did love him and wanted to be with him. That is the only explanation he could come up with for the sudden passion she displayed in her kiss—a kiss that had been everything he had always dreamt of and more! He just had to find her so he could talk to her and find out exactly what it meant. And he was desperate to kiss her like that once more.

Abby finally got her trembling under control and tried to dry her eyes. She thought of Annie and how frantic with worry she must be wondering how things had turned out, but all she wanted to do was go home and be alone with her thoughts. She was just walking away from the forge when she heard Annie calling out to her.

"Abby! Abby, wait!"

Annie ran up to her, looking very excited. "Oh, Abby, you will never believe what just happened to me!" Abby turned around and Annie could see the tears on her friend's cheeks. "Oh, Abby, what's wrong? What happened with Sydney? Did he discover it was you after all?"

Abby shook her head. "No, everything worked perfectly. He thought I was Sophia."

"Then why are you crying?"

Abby looked down and her voice broke as she said, "Because I kissed him, Annie, and it was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced!"

"But isn't that what you wanted to happen?"

"Yes, but don't you see? He thought I was Sophia and he kissed me so passionately! I realise now how much he loves her. A man wouldn't kiss a woman the way he kissed me if he didn't love her."

Annie put her arms around Abby and let her cry on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Abby. But maybe this was a good thing. Now that you know how he feels about Sophia you can start to move on with your life. It might be time to let him go."

Abby sobbed even harder. "How can I, Annie? I love him now more than ever!"

"Shhh..." Annie said soothingly as she rubbed her back. "I think you should go on home now and give yourself some time to think. Perhaps it will all look different to you in the morning."

Abby nodded. "Yes, I think I will. I don't know how I'm going to face Sydney tomorrow."

"Well, he doesn't know it was you now, does he? You must act the same as you always do—as if nothing at all has happened."

Abby was silent for a moment as she dried her tears again. Then she looked at her friend. "I'm sorry, Annie, weren't you about to tell me something before?"

Annie's hand rose unconsciously to her lips. "It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. You go home now and get some sleep."

Abby gave her friend a hug, and after retrieving her horse from behind the Post Office rode as fast as she could back to the manor.

Sydney spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in his bed. He never did find Sophia that night, but he was determined to seek her out first thing in the morning. When morning finally did arrive, he dressed quickly, choked down some breakfast, and then when Harry arrived uncharacteristically whistling a cheery tune, he put him in charge of opening the Post Office so he could hurry over to the Golden Lion Hotel.

Jason Fielding intercepted him as he came into the lobby. "Well, Dowling, you're out early this morning," he said.

"Good morning, Fielding. I need to speak to Sophia. Is she about?"

"Well, mornings are her busiest time, can't this wait until later?"

"No, I'm sorry, it is very important that I speak to her now. I promise it won't take long."

Fielding sighed. "Very well. If you want to wait in the parlour I will fetch her for you."

"Thank you, Jason."

Sydney went into the parlour and paced nervously about until Sophia finally arrived. "Sydney! I didn't expect to see you this morning. Is something the matter?" she asked.

Sydney hurried to close the parlour doors and then he went to her and took her hands in his. "No, nothing is wrong, my dear Sophia. I just couldn't wait to see you again after last night. Why did you run away like that?"

Sophia looked blankly at him. "Last night? But I didn't see you last night, Sydney."

Sydney stared at her for a moment. "But of course you did. We met in the garden behind the hotel, don't you remember?"

Sophia furrowed her brow and shook her head slowly. "Sydney, I wasn't outside of this hotel at all last night. Are you sure you're all right? You didn't get hit on the head or anything, did you?" She was now looking at him with concern.

Sydney stared at her again and then he began to smile as he whispered, "It's all right, we're all alone in here—there is no need to be coy!"

Her concern turned to agitation. "Coy? Sydney, I have no idea what you are talking about!"

"The kiss, Sophia! That amazing kiss we shared last night in the garden! I can't stop thinking about it! I couldn't wait to see you this morning so we could talk about what it meant."

Sophia was now staring at him as if he had gone mad. "Sydney Dowland, I don't know who you were kissing last night in the garden, but it certainly wasn't me!"

Sydney shook his head in confusion. "I-I don't understand. You were there and wearing your purple dress…I couldn't have imagined it!"

Sophia stepped back from him. "You must have imagined it, Sydney, because I was here all evening. You can ask Mr Fielding, he will vouch for my whereabouts. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do and I think you need to go and find that other woman who amazed you with her kisses." She gave him a hurt look before quickly going out the door, leaving him standing there completely dumbfounded.

---

Sydney remained in a funk for the rest of the morning, unable to understand why Sophia would deny kissing him the night before. Was she ashamed of their kiss? Or perhaps regretting it? It just didn't make sense and the more he dwelt on it the worse he felt.

Abby met Harry coming out of the Post Office as he was just about to begin his rounds. "Good morning, Abby!" Harry greeted her in a suspiciously cheerful manner.

Abby stared at him with amusement. "Good morning to you, too, Harry. You sure seem in a good mood!"

Harry smiled. "I am indeed!"

"Tell me, Harry, how is Sydney's mood today?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, now that you mention it, he seems rather unhappy about something, but he hasn't said what. Perhaps he's still upset that Sophia didn't want to come out last night."

"Oh, I see," Abby said in a small voice.

"Why? Are you going to ask him for a raise?" Harry laughed.

Abby forced herself to smile. "No, I was just curious. He seemed down yesterday so I was hoping he was feeling better. But you sure seem happy about something, Harry!"

Harry beamed at her. "Yes, very much so! Tell me, Abby, have you spoken to Annie since last night?"

"No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

Harry's cheeks turned pink. "Oh, I was just wondering how she was this morning." He cleared his throat, looking rather embarrassed, and then tipped his cap to her as he went on his way. "Have a good day, Abby!"

"You too, Harry!" Abby shook her head as she watched him go, wondering what that was all about. She would have to find Annie during her break and ask her if something had happened between her and Harry last night. For now, she took a deep breath and went inside the Post Office, reminding herself that Sydney had no idea it was she he had been kissing the night before. It didn't help her very much as her stomach remained filled with butterflies at the prospect of seeing him again.

"Good morning, Sydney," she greeted him, trying to sound as normal as possible.

He barely looked up at her. "Is it?"

Abby gave him a wary look. "Is something the matter, Sydney?"

Sydney sighed. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with, Abby."

Abby went and stood next to him behind the counter and then nudged his shoulder, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity she felt from coming in contact with him again. "Come on, Syd, you've listened to a lot of my troubles over the years. It's time I returned the favour. Now, something is obviously bothering you and I want to help."

Sydney leaned against the counter and rubbed his eyes. "Let's just say that something very special happened between Sophia and me last night and now she is denying it."

Abby felt her stomach drop. She hadn't considered the fact that Sydney would talk to Sophia about the kiss. Of course he would talk to her about it and of course Sophia would deny it!

"Oh, dear," she said out loud before she could stop herself.

Sydney looked at her. "What?"

"I-I mean, oh dear, that is odd! W-What did she deny happened?"

Sydney was silent for a moment as though considering his answer. Finally, he said dispiritedly, "Nothing, it's not important."

He looked so unhappy that Abby suddenly felt terribly guilty. "I am so sorry, Sydney."

"For what? You didn't do anything."

Abby shook her head. "Oh, Sydney, I…" She was interrupted by customers coming into the Post Office and for the rest of the day there wasn't a quiet moment for them to talk again.

Later that afternoon, Sydney left to try speaking to Sophia again and Abby was left wringing her hands with worry. She hadn't considered the repercussions of her actions on Mischief Night. Now that he had already confronted Sophia about the kiss Abby was too afraid to tell him the truth knowing how angry he would be with her. Why oh why did she run away after the kiss? Why didn't she just reveal herself to him afterwards? Now the dye had been cast and Abby could only wait to see if it would all blow over.

As soon as Harry came back to watch the Post Office whilst Sydney was still away, Abby slipped out to find Annie at the Pratts' shop. Annie looked up at her and smiled. "Are you feeling better today, Abby?"

"I'm afraid not. Oh, Annie, I've got myself in a terrible fix!" she exclaimed.

Annie looked at her with concern. "What do you mean?"

"It's Sydney—he's already gone to Sophia to talk to her about the kiss last night and she completely denied it happened. Now, Sydney is terribly upset about it."

"Oh, dear, I was afraid that was going to happen," Annie said.

"What am I going to do, Annie?"

Annie sighed. "I think you had better tell him the truth, Abby, before this goes any further."

"But he'll be so angry with me!"

"Yes, and even more so if Sophia won't see him again. Tell him now, Abby, before it's too late."

Abby sat down across from her friend and buried her face in her hands. "I didn't think this through very well, did I?" she said with despair.

Annie patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Go tell him now, Abby. Maybe it's not too late for him to fix things with Sophia."

Abby nodded as her eyes filled with tears. "He's going to hate me."

"He's not going to hate you. Yes, he will be angry, but the only way to make things right is to tell him."

Abby sat there a moment longer, not quite ready to face Sydney just yet. Then suddenly she remembered something. "Annie! Harry asked after you this morning and he seemed in an unusually good mood. Did something happen between you two last night that I don't know about?"

Annie's face broke into a smile. "Yes, something did happen, Abby—something wonderful!"

Abby's eyes widened and she leaned forward, grasping her friend's arm. "What? What happened? Tell me!"

Annie looked down at her sewing, her face now bright red, and said softly. "Harry kissed me last night."

"Harry kissed you?" Abby exclaimed. "Annie, why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to, Abby, but you were so upset last night that I didn't have the heart."

"Oh, Annie, I am so sorry! You should have told me! This is big…this is huge!" Abby shook her head in amazement. "How did it happen? You must tell me everything!"

Annie told her about Harry disguising himself and waiting for her by the forge. When she had finished, Abby just sat there with her mouth agape. "Incredible! I had no idea that Harry could be so romantic! So how was it? The kiss, I mean."

Annie blushed again. "It was perfect. Oh, Abby, I am so happy!"

Abby squealed and pulled Annie into a hug. "And I am so happy for you, Annie! I can't believe you didn't tell me this sooner! So what happens now? Are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know. That will be up to Harry," Annie said demurely.

"Well, judging by his mood this morning, I wouldn't doubt he is waiting outside to see you again right now, at this very moment!"

"Do you really think so?" Annie asked, suddenly feeling shy and rather anxious.

"Let's go see!" Abby laughed and pulled Annie to the front of the store. "Oh, my goodness, he is standing outside!" she cried.

Harry was indeed outside the Pratts' shop, pacing nervously back and forth and occasionally glancing up at the store as though hoping to spot Annie in the window.

Annie clutched her friend's arm, burying her face in Abby's shoulder.

"You must go out there and speak to him, Annie. The poor man looks desperate!"

Annie stole a glance out the window and then both girls broke into giggles. "I will, I just need a moment to gather my courage."

"All right, I will leave you to it, then. I have to get back to the Post Office now anyway and help Sydney close up for the night."

Annie stopped her. "You will tell him, won't you, Abby?"

Abby sighed. "I'll try."

As she went out the door, Harry looked up expectantly only to be disappointed to see it was only Abby. Abby walked up to him and placed her hand on his arm while whispering, "She's over the moon, Harry. Well done!" She gave him a little wink and Harry's happiness suddenly beamed forth like a beacon of light.

With much trepidation did Abby return to the Post Office knowing she would have to tell Sydney the truth about what happened on Mischief Night. It wasn't a good sign that he had already put the closed sign on the door ten minutes before the official closing time. As she went inside he looked up at her and nearly shouted, "Where have you been? I came back here to find Harry all by himself. I count on you to be here to close up when I am not here, Abby."

"I-I'm sorry, Sydney. I was speaking with Annie. I didn't mean to be gone for so long."

Sydney grunted then went back into the kitchen, leaving Abby standing there wringing her hands. Suddenly, she heard Sydney swear out loud and then the sound of a glass smashing against the wall.

"Sydney! Are you all right?" Abby cried. She ran back to find him sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

Without looking at her, he growled, "I'm fine, Abby. You can go home now."

Abby didn't budge. "What did Sophia say, Sydney?"

He glared up at her and she could see his face had gone all blotchy. "I said, go home, Abby!"

"Please, Sydney, I need to tell you something," she pleaded with him.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. Please, just leave me alone." He covered his face again with his hands.

Abby nodded reluctantly and started to go, but before she left she turned back to him. "Does she really mean that much to you, Sydney?" she asked sadly.

Sydney was silent for a moment and when he finally replied he spoke so quietly that Abby had to strain to hear him. "I never realised how much until last night. Now I've lost her."

"No, Sydney, you mustn't…"

He interrupted her. "Please, just go home now, Abby. I need some time to myself."

"But, Syd…"

"I said, GO HOME!" he shouted and then abruptly pushed away from the table and ran upstairs, slamming the door to his bedroom.

Abby then burst into tears and ran out of the Post Office knowing now that if he ever found out the truth he was going to hate her forever.

---

Abby knew she had to tell Sydney the truth, but as more days passed she lost all courage to do so. He did apologise for shouting at her the following day, but fear again kept her silent. She began to justify it in her mind that if Sophia held an innocent case of mistaken identity against him then she wasn't the right woman for him to begin with and Sydney was better off without her. And indeed, in time, Sydney was back to his normal self and Abby began to relax around him.

One chilly Sunday in late November, Abby was just coming from having lunch with Annie at Laura and Richard's house when she spotted Sydney walking down the street. She fell into step beside him and linked her arm through his. She was just telling him about her afternoon at Laura's house when she was interrupted by a woman's voice calling out behind them.

"Oh, Miss Middleton! Sophia! Please wait!"

Both Sydney and Abby turned around to see who was calling for Sophia only to see the woman stop abruptly when she saw Abby's face.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon, miss. I thought you were someone else—you look just like her from behind!" The woman tittered nervously. "Do forgive me, I feel such a fool!"

Abby smiled at her. "That's quite all right, ma'am. I've done the same thing myself."

The woman bobbed her head in thanks and then hurried off. Abby continued walking until she realised Sydney wasn't next to her anymore. She looked behind her and saw him still standing in the same spot and staring at her with a strange expression on his face. A feeling of dread suddenly came over her.

"Why are you staring at me like that, Syd?"

Sydney tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"W-What was me?" she asked warily.

He strode up to her and took her by the arm, leading her to a private spot away from the street.

"Mischief Night. It was you, wasn't it? You were the one who kissed me!" His eyes were now glittering dangerously at her and she shrank away from him.

"Mischief Night? I don't know what you're talking about," Abby protested weakly, but she was now unable to look him in the eye.

"Don't lie to me, Abigail!" he said angrily. "It had to be you. It's all beginning to make sense now."

Abby bit her lower lip and tried to keep the tears that were threatening at bay.

"All right, it was me," she finally confessed, but before she could explain herself he reared back and turned away from her, running his hand through his hair in agitation.

"Why? Why would you do such a thing? Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to confront Sophia about that kiss? She had no idea what I was talking about and accused me of seeing another woman behind her back! Now she won't even speak to me!"

Abby went up to him and grasped his arm. "Please, Sydney, I am so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen. It was Mischief Night and I was …well…being mischievous. And I…I wanted so badly to know what it would be like to kiss you. I knew you would never want to kiss me so I thought if you thought I was Sophia…"

Sydney groaned and lightly banged his forehead against the wall. "How could I have been so stupid to mistake you for her?"

"It wasn't your fault! It was dark and I had Annie make me a dress just like Sophia's. And you heard that lady just now say that I look like Sophia from behind."

When he didn't say anything Abby could only stand there wringing her hands. "I'll go to Sophia and explain what happened. I'll make it right for you, I promise."

"No! Just leave her be, Abby. I'll talk to her myself—if she'll even see me, that is." He stood there looking down at his hands with a frown and was silent for such a long time that Abby was unable to hold her tears back any longer.

"Please, I didn't mean any harm, really I didn't. I knew I should have told you, but I was too afraid. Oh, Sydney, please don't hate me! " she sobbed.

He gave a great sigh and finally looked up at her. "Oh, Abby, I don't hate you. I could never hate you." He walked over to her and put his arms around her. "I am angry with you, though, and you can't blame me for that."

Her shoulders continued to shake as she cried into his chest and he felt his anger begin to dissipate. He never could stand to see her cry. "Don't cry, Abby. Now that I know what happened I can explain it all to Sophia. I am sure she will understand."

She sniffed loudly. "It won't happen again, I promise."

"All right, then." He pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to her. "Come on, dry your tears now."

As she wiped her tears away he began to chuckle in spite of all that had happened. "You know, I was beginning to think I was going mad—that I must have imagined the kiss the way Sophia so vehemently denied being a part of it."

"I really am sorry it caused so much trouble, Sydney. I just wanted to kiss you—I never considered the consequences," she said dolefully. She was now looking down, feeling too ashamed to look him in the eye.

As he stared at her bowed head he tried hard to force the memory of that kiss from his mind. That it had been Abby who had kissed him like that—little Abby who, as far as he knew, had never kissed a boy in her life—had in one kiss set his entire body alight, something that Sophia's kisses had never done. How was that possible? He didn't have those kinds of feelings for Abby, and yet, even at this very moment, it was as though his body was completely disregarding what his head was telling him and was pushing him towards her, wanting nothing more than to take her face in his hands and claim her lips once again with his own. Instead, he gave himself a mental shake, telling himself the feelings he experienced during that kiss were for Sophia, that he thought it had been Sophia he was kissing all along. He reminded himself that Abby was still only sixteen years old and that Sir Timothy would have his head if he knew he had been kissing his daughter. It was time he put an end to this once and for all.

He reached out and took her hands in his and regarded her solemnly. "Abby, you must listen to me now."

When she refused to look at him, he put his finger under her chin and lifted her face so she would have to.

"This has to stop, Abby. You have to get over these romantic notions you have for me. I am far too old for you and you know it. I cannot have those kinds of feelings for you. Do you understand what I am saying?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "How can you deny what we felt during that kiss? I know you felt it as strongly as I did!"

"I thought I was kissing Sophia, Abby," he said gently. "If I had known it was you…"

She pulled her hands away from his and stepped back whilst glaring at him. "Judging by the way you reacted to that kiss, I would bet everything I hold dear that Sophia never kissed you the way that I did."

Sydney suddenly looked embarrassed. "That is neither here nor there, Abby. The point is that I thought you were Sophia."

Abby grunted, "Whatever you say, Sydney." Then she turned as though to walk away, but he grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him again.

"Listen to me, Abigail. I am in love with Sophia. I am not in love with you! I love you only as a sister, a very dear little sister. I need you to understand this, to get over this infatuation you have with me. I mean it, Abby; nothing can ever happen between us!"

He knew he was doing the right thing by setting her straight, but then why did he feel as though he had just betrayed his dearest friend? The terrible hurt he now saw in her eyes felt like a knife going through his heart and suddenly he was frightened—frightened that the awful words he had just spoken to her were said more to convince him than to convince her.

Abby stood there feeling his words as they penetrated through her skin and bones, where they finally reached her heart and burrowed deep within it until they succeeded in shredding it into little pieces. She realised now that she would never have the one person she loved most in this world and would never be able to share the rest of her life with him the way she had always dreamt of doing.

She looked into his eyes and gave him a little nod of defeat. Then, with a sad little lop-sided smile, she reached up and touched his cheek one last time. "Goodbye, Siddy," she said softly, and then turned and walked away.

The following day, for the first time in six years, she did not show up for work at the Post Office.

Chapter 9

Timothy sat at his desk holding in his hand the second letter he had received from his former mother-in-law, Lady Claire Spencer, pleading with him once again to send Abigail to her.

"My health is not what it once was, Sir Timothy," said Lady Claire in her slightly unsteady hand. "I wish to see my only granddaughter properly brought out into society as is befitting a young lady of her standing. I know it would be my daughter's fondest wish that I orchestrate her debut in her stead here in London. If you could send her at your earliest convenience I would be most grateful. I realise it will mean Abigail spending the holidays away from home, but it would make this old woman very happy to have her here for Christmas. I should like to get to know my granddaughter before I depart this earthly plane. I await your kind reply…"

Timothy sighed and knew he would have to address this immediately, but first he wished to discuss it with Dorcas. It was going to be difficult to convince Abigail to leave her home—and the Post Office—to live amongst virtual strangers for the next six months, if not longer, and he was not looking forward to the inevitable tears and protestations that were sure to follow. But he could not ignore Lady Claire's requests any longer, and whilst he believed Abigail to be rather young to be coming out, she would be seventeen years old by the time the Season began. He knew she would be in good hands with her own grandmother guiding her, and was sure it was what Adelaide would have wanted.

"What do you think, Dorcas?" he asked his wife who had just come into his study.

Dorcas read Lady Claire's letter and then folded it thoughtfully. "Perhaps this would be best for Abigail, Timothy. I've been worried about her. This is the third day in a row that she hasn't gone to the Post Office. She hasn't told me why yet, but I am sure it has something to do with Sydney and his continued affections for Sophia."

Timothy looked solemn as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I hate to see my daughter hurting, Dorcas. If Sydney is breaking her heart then I agree that Abigail should go to her grandmother's as soon as possible. A change of scenery will do her good, and now that she will be making her debut into society, she will have the opportunity to expand her horizons, meet new people and see that there are lots of good men out there who would make a very fine husband for her—when she is ready, that is."

Dorcas still looked worried. "Yes, perhaps it would be best for her to meet new people. I just know how difficult it is trying to get over a first love." She looked up at him meaningfully. "I know I never did."

Timothy reached out and clasped her hands, kissing them each in turn. "I never got over my first love, either, my darling girl," he said softly as he bent down and kissed her on the lips. "I just want Abigail to have the opportunities that come with being a young lady of society. To see what the world has to offer her before she sets her heart too firmly on any one man. She deserves that."

"I agree, Timothy. Perhaps it's best we speak to her now."

Timothy nodded. "Yes, I want to get this settled as soon as possible."

Dorcas went up to fetch Abby by herself as she wanted to have a word with her before bringing her to her father. She found her sitting in a chair looking blankly out the window.

"Abby?" Dorcas said softly.

"Oh, hello, Ma," Abby said. She smiled briefly at her mother before turning back to the window.

Dorcas stood next to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. "Abby, why have you not been working at the Post Office? What has happened?"

Abby continued to stare out the window. "I don't belong there anymore, Ma. I won't be going back."

Dorcas pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "What do you mean you don't belong there anymore, dear heart?"

Abby sighed. "Sydney has made it very clear to me that he loves Sophia and only Sophia. He says I need to get over him. He doesn't want me around anymore," she said resignedly.

Dorcas put her arm around Abby's shoulders. "Of course he wants you around, Abby! I'm sure he didn't mean that. But I am truly sorry about Sophia. I know how much you must be hurting, darling."

Dorcas was expecting tears, but Abby remained oddly silent, as though she had given up and accepted her loss. It made Dorcas feel even more worried for her. "Abigail, your father has something he wishes to speak to you about."

"What is it, Ma?"

"Well, he really should tell you himself. Come, he's waiting for you in his study."

Abby followed listlessly behind her mother until she stood in front of her father's desk. "What is it, Papa?" she asked.

"Sit down, please, Abigail, there is something I need to discuss with you," Timothy said.

Abby sat down and stared down at her hands, not appearing very interested in whatever it was her father had to say.

Timothy cleared his throat. "I've had a letter from your grandmother, Lady Spencer, and it is her particular wish that you join her in London so she can prepare you for your coming out."

"My coming out?" Abby asked blankly.

"Yes, Abigail. It is something all young ladies do in our class. You will be presented to the King and Queen and then you will spend the Season attending balls and dinners and other social gatherings."

"What for?" Abby asked.

"Well, darling, it is a little ritual in which to announce to the world that you are now an adult and eligible for marriage."

Abby sighed and wanted to say, "Why bother? The only man I want to marry now belongs to someone else." But instead she just said, "Do I have to?"

Timothy studied her for a moment and then looked up at Dorcas who gave him a nod of encouragement.

"Darling," he began, "your grandmother is most eager to help prepare you for this very special time in your life. She misses your mother and you are her only granddaughter. Her health is beginning to fail and it is her greatest wish to see you make your debut into society. She wants to get to know you, Abigail."

Timothy began to feel frustrated when Abby remained silent. He tried again, "Abigail, I think it would be good for you to go to London and meet new people and experience new things. You owe it to yourself, darling. I know it is what your mother would have wanted for you."

Abby finally looked up at him. "When do I have to go?"

Timothy glanced over at Dorcas again. "Well, your grandmother has asked that you come as soon as possible…which means you would be spending Christmas with her."

Abby winced at the thought of spending Christmas away from her family, but then she thought of Sydney and how he would surely bring Sophia with him to their Christmas dinner. They would be laughing together, exchanging presents…kissing under the mistletoe. Abby gave a shake of her head as though trying to banish the image from her mind, then looked resolutely at her father. "All right, I will go, Papa."

Timothy looked relieved. "That is excellent, darling, I think it is going to be a wonderful experience for you and your grandmother is going to be thrilled. I will write to her now and let her know you will be coming soon."

Abby stood up. "No need to write to her, Papa. I will leave tomorrow and arrive sooner than any letter could."

"Tomorrow?" Timothy asked with surprise. "Are you sure you want to leave so soon?"

"The sooner, the better," Abby replied and then left her parents standing there whilst she went upstairs to pack.

Sydney stood deep in thought as he drummed his fingers on the counter top. He couldn't say he was surprised that Abby was no longer coming to the Post Office after he had told her he didn't love her, but the way she had said goodbye to him seemed so…final. He felt terrible for hurting her so badly and he also felt guilty for the words he said to her; guilty because he wasn't so sure that what he said to her was altogether true. He did love Sophia, but he also could not stop thinking about that kiss. He had gone to Sophia and explained what had happened on Mischief Night, but whilst she seemed to understand, even managed to laugh a little over it, things were now different between them. Sophia seemed more reserved as though she didn't quite believe him when he said there was no other woman he had feelings for. He was going to have to work hard to prove himself to her. But he also hated leaving things as they were with Abby and thought about going to the manor to speak to her. The one thing he didn't want was to lose her friendship and the closeness they had always shared.

Harry glanced over at Sydney and could see that his employer and friend looked unhappy. "Syd, is everything all right? I mean, I can't help but notice that Abby hasn't been in to work all week. I hope she's not ill?"

Sydney sighed and pushed away from the counter. "No, Harry, she's not ill. I'm afraid she won't be working here anymore."

Harry, not one to pry, simply replied, "Oh, I see. Well, I am sorry for that. I will miss her around here."

Sydney nodded sadly. "So will I, Harry."

Sydney watched as Harry gathered his post bag and headed out the door. Now that he was alone he was able to think a little more clearly, and after a few moments he made up his mind to seek Abby out the next day after he finished work. He would give her one more day to herself and then he would try to speak to her again and hopefully make amends. He couldn't move on with Sophia until he knew Abby was all right.

As soon as Harry left to go on his rounds, he made a quick stop at the dressmaker's shop to find Annie who looked up with surprise to see him there. "I'm sorry to disturb you Annie, but do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Harry," she said, putting her sewing down and following him outside and away from the prying eyes of Pearl and Ruby Pratt.

When they were in a sufficiently private spot Harry asked, "Annie, have you spoken to Abby lately?"

"No, Harry, I haven't. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her here in town the past few days. Has something happened?" she asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "All I know is she hasn't shown up for work this week and Sydney isn't saying why."

"Oh, dear," Annie said with a furrowed brow. "Thank you for telling me. I will go to the manor and try to see her after I finish here at the shop. How has Sydney been acting? Does he seem upset about anything?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, he has seemed rather preoccupied lately...and quiet. I just assumed he and Abby had a row or something."

Annie placed her hand on his arm. "I think I know what this is about, but I will go to her tonight and make sure she is all right."

Harry nodded. "Good. You will let me know how she is, won't you?"

"Of course, Harry. Well, I had better get back to work before the Miss Pratts come looking for me." She rolled her eyes, making Harry laugh, but as she went to leave Harry caught her arm and pulled her back to him for a kiss. After a few moments, she finally had to place her hands on his chest and push him away as she laughed, "I really need to get back to work now, Harry, and so do you!"

Harry reluctantly let her go. "Tell Abby we miss her!" he called out after her.

"I will, Harry!" she replied with a wave of her hand.

Annie hurried to the manor as quickly as she could knowing something terrible must have happened for Abby to quit the Post Office so abruptly.

Dorcas happened to be passing by the door when Annie knocked so she was quick to answer it. "Annie, what a nice surprise," Dorcas greeted her young cousin.

"Good evening, Lady Dorcas," Annie said. "I've come to see Abby. Is…Is she all right, ma'am?" she asked worriedly.

Dorcas put her arm around Annie's shoulders. "She will be fine. She is up in her room if you would like to see her."

"Thank you, Lady Dorcas. I was so worried when Harry told me that she stopped coming to the Post Office."

"That is very kind of you, Annie. I think she will be very happy to see you."

Annie nodded her thanks and then went up the stairs to Abby's room where she tapped on the door.

"Come in," she heard Abby say.

Annie was surprised to open the door and find Abby stuffing clothes into a large trunk. "Abby, what are you doing? Are you going somewhere?"

Abby looked up at her friend. "Oh, Annie, I'm so glad you're here. I wanted to say goodbye to you before I left for London tomorrow."

"London? Abby, what is going on? Harry told me you haven't worked at the Post Office all week. I've been so worried!"

"I'm sorry, Annie. I didn't mean to worry you. I just…well…wasn't up to talking about it before."

Annie frowned. "Talk about what? What happened between you and Sydney? Even Harry is worried about you."

"How are things between you and Harry, Annie?" Abby asked as she continued to pack.

Annie finally went over to her and grabbed her arm. "Don't change the subject, Abby. Tell me what is going on with you!"

Abby sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. "Sydney figured out it was me whom he kissed on Mischief Night."

Annie sat down beside her. "Oh, dear, what did he say?"

Abby looked down as she twisted her hands together. "He was angry. He said that he loved Sophia and could never love me…that nothing could ever happen between us and that I needed to get over him."

Annie reached over and placed her hand over Abby's. "I am so sorry, Abby. Why didn't you come and tell me? I could have helped you through this!"

"I-I just couldn't. To speak about it makes it too real. I know he doesn't want me around anymore so I left the Post Office. Now my grandmother wants me to come to London so she can prepare me for my coming out next spring."

"Next spring?" Annie exclaimed. "How long will you be away?"

"My Papa says at least six months."

"Oh, Abby, what am I going to do without you? I'm going to miss you so much!" Annie said sadly.

"I will miss you, too, Annie, but at least you have Harry now. You probably wouldn't have much time for me anymore now anyway."

"Abby, you are my best friend. I will always have time for you! And Harry wanted me to tell you that he misses you at the Post Office. He's been so worried about you."

Abby smiled. "Dear Harry. Thank him for me, will you?"

Annie hesitated a moment before saying, "Harry says that Sydney's been real quiet and preoccupied since you've been gone. I think he misses you, too."

Abby stood up and began to gather more clothes again. "Well, Sydney's made his choice, hasn't he?" She stuffed the last of the clothes inside the trunk and closed its lid with a loud thunk. Then she patted the top of it with her hand. "The sooner I am away from Candleford the better."

After giving Annie her grandmother's address, she hugged her friend tightly. "Goodbye, Annie, I'm going to miss you," she said tearfully. "Tell Harry goodbye for me, too. I hope to be dancing at your wedding soon!"

Annie hugged her back. "I am going to miss you so much! Candleford is going to be so dull without you!"

"You must write to me as much as possible," Abby said. "I won't know a soul in London besides my grandmother, and the last time I was there she wasn't exactly fun. I am counting on your letters to entertain me!"

"Of course I will write and keep you updated on everything that is happening here." Annie gave her one last hug. "Oh, I miss you already!" she cried.

Abby walked downstairs with Annie and Timothy ordered his carriage to take Annie home as it was now dark outside. Abby stood waving goodbye to her friend until the carriage was out of sight and then, with a heavy sigh, returned to her room for her final night at the manor.

By dawn, Timothy had herded his family into the carriage to take Abby to the train station over in Inglestone. She was quiet on the way, wondering what was in store for her in London. She barely knew her grandmother, having only seen her a few times in her life and not since she was a little girl. Her grandmother had always seemed very stern and rather forbidding. But even that was preferable to staying in Candleford where she would have to witness Sydney marrying Sophia.

As they stood on the platform waiting for the London bound train to arrive, Dorcas put her arm around Abby's shoulders. "I'm going to miss you, Abigail," she said. "The house will seem empty without you."

"I will miss you, too, Ma," Abby said as she leaned against her mother's shoulder. "I hope Grandmother won't be too difficult to live with."

Timothy overheard her words. "Just remember that she is your grandmother, Abigail, no matter how difficult she may turn out to be. You must treat her with the respect due a lady of her standing—not just as your grandmother, but as Lady Claire Spencer."

"Yes, Papa."

"And don't forget to bring me back something from London!" Ben piped up.

Abby ruffled his hair. "I won't, you spoilt brat," she teased her little brother.

The train finally arrived and after the porter took her trunks, Abby hugged her mother goodbye and then her little brother, who looked suspiciously like he was going to cry. Then Timothy put his arm around her and walked her to the door of the train.

"The manor will be lonely without you, Abigail," he said as he kissed her forehead. "If you are ever unhappy in London you know you can always come home at any time."

"Thank you, Papa," she said, trying to hold back her tears.

"Listen to your grandmother now, she will make a lady of you. But most of all, enjoy the experiences you are about to have. You will always have Candleford, my girl, but soon you will have the world."

Abby hugged her father tight and then hurried into the train before she would start to cry. As the train moved away, faster and faster, she continued to wave goodbye to her family until they were no longer in sight. Then she sat back in her seat and wondered if Sydney would care that she was no longer in Candleford.

At that moment, Annie was knocking at the door of the Post Office, having come extra early into town so she could tell Sydney about Abby leaving.

"Annie, is something wrong?" Sydney asked when he opened the door, still bleary-eyed with sleep.

"I'm sorry to bother you so early in the morning, Sydney," Annie said hurriedly. "But did you know that Abby is leaving today for London? She will be gone for six months!"

"What?" Sydney exclaimed. "No, no one told me she was going anywhere! Why is she going to London?"

Annie explained about Abby's grandmother wanting her to come live with her and guide her through her coming out. "I wanted to make sure you knew so maybe you could say goodbye to her."

"Why wouldn't she have told me herself?" Sydney lamented.

"Sydney, Abby believes you don't want her around anymore. She said you made it very clear to her that you could never love her. She was devastated. I don't think she would have agreed to leave Candleford otherwise."

Sydney ran his hand through his hair. "Oh, God, I never meant for her to think I didn't want her around, Annie! I have to talk to her—what time did she say she was leaving?"

"I don't know, but I imagine sometime this morning."

"Thank you for telling me. If you'll excuse me, I need to get over there right away."

"Of course, Sydney. I just hope it's not too late!"

"So do I!" He grabbed his coat from behind the door and then quickly made his way to the stables.

By the time Sydney reached the manor, he could see Timothy's carriage coming up the drive. His heart sank knowing he was already too late as they were obviously returning from somewhere. He jumped off his horse and met his mother as she stepped out of the carriage.

"Ma, Annie just now told me about Abby leaving. Is she gone already?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. Yes, she is already on her way to London."

"Why didn't you tell me she was leaving?" he cried. "I would have come to say goodbye to her!"

Dorcas looked weary. "She didn't want us to tell you, Sydney. She was convinced you wanted nothing more to do with her."

"But that is absurd!" he exclaimed. "I love Abby as my family and as my friend. I never said I wanted nothing more to do with her. How could she even think that?"

Dorcas patted his arm. "Perhaps it is best that this happened, Sydney. Since you have chosen to love Sophia, Abigail needs to move on with her life and meet new people. London with her grandmother is the best place for her right now."

"But I never wanted this to happen!" Sydney was growing more and more upset. "Please, you have to believe me that I never meant to hurt her like this!"

"I know you didn't, Sydney," Dorcas said. "In fact, I feel partly to blame in this since it was I who told you to make it perfectly clear to Abigail that you loved Sophia. I am sure with time and distance Abigail will get over this and realise you were just being honest with her."

Sydney looked helplessly over at Timothy who was now regarding him rather coolly. "Please, Sir Timothy, surely you can understand my position? I know that Abby is far too young for me. I have spent my life protecting her as my little sister. I only wanted to make it clear to her that I was in love with Sophia and that she needed to get over any romantic notions she had of me. I never ever said that I wanted nothing more to do with her."

Timothy's gaze softened. "Yes, I do understand, son. You have always been very good to my daughter ever since you were a little boy and for that I am grateful. She always was inordinately fond of you, but perhaps this was the awakening she needed to help her grow up; to get over her childish notions once and for all. I'm not blaming you, Sydney. I just hate seeing my daughter hurting."

"Thank you, Sir Timothy. I just hope one day I can make it up to Abby and convince her that I will always be there for her as her brother and as her friend."

Dorcas asked him to stay for breakfast, but Sydney declined knowing he would have to get back to the Post Office before it was to open.

"I suppose I'll have to find myself a new employee," he said sadly to his mother.

Dorcas touched his cheek sympathetically. "You know I would be happy to help you at the Post Office until you can find a replacement for Abby."

"Thank you, Ma," he replied as he took her hand and kissed it. "It would be nice to see you behind the counter again!"

He gave her a hug and shook Timothy's hand. Then he rode home, cursing at himself all the way for causing Abby so much pain and for chasing her away before he could determine what his own feelings truly were for her.

---

Abby arrived to rain and the bewildering hustle and bustle of King's Cross station in London just a few hours later. She managed to summon a porter to collect her luggage and secure a private carriage to her grandmother's address within moments so was soon on her way. Her grandmother lived in Mayfair, one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods in London. The area was only faintly familiar to Abby since it had been years since she had last been there with her father. Her trepidation began to increase the closer she came to the Spencer mansion and suddenly she wished she were back in gentle Candleford again. She closed her eyes, praying that her grandmother would be more agreeable than she remembered from years ago.

When at last she stood on the doorstep, she took a deep breath before ringing the bell. A servant immediately opened the door and stood there looking with disapproval at her trunks before saying, "May I help you, miss?"

"I am Abigail Midwinter, Lady Claire's granddaughter. I have come to see my grandmother."

The servant's eyes immediately widened. "Of course, Miss Midwinter, please forgive me. Do come in."

Abby followed him inside the foyer where he motioned for her stay. "Wait here, please, whilst I summon Her Ladyship."

Abby stood uncertainly as she gazed about the grand foyer. Moments later the servant returned, looking rather red in the face.

"If you will follow me, please, Miss Midwinter, I will take you to Her Ladyship."

He led her into a grand parlour where her grandmother sat in a large winged-back chair. "Come here, child," she said to Abby who approached her grandmother with a tentative smile.

Lady Claire held her spectacles up to her eyes as she inspected her granddaughter. "Well, Abigail, I asked your father to send you soon, I did not expect you to arrive the very next day!"

"I'm sorry, Grandmother. It was my idea to come so quickly. There wasn't time to send a letter."

"Hmmm…" Lady Claire continued to inspect her. "You have grown much since I last saw you, Abigail. You have your mother's height, but other than that you are very much your father's daughter."

Abby didn't know whether to apologise or not for looking like her father so she said nothing.

"How is Sir Timothy, child? I understand he remarried shortly after…" Her voice trailed off and her expression went dour.

"My father is quite well, thank you. He sends his deepest regards."

"Hmmm…" Lady Claire said again. "Well, Charles will see you to your room where you may freshen up. You will be summoned when lunch is ready." Lady Claire reached over and pulled a long tasseled rope which hung next to her and the man named Charles appeared instantaneously.

"Please show Miss Midwinter to her room, Charles."

Charles bowed and led Abby up a huge curved staircase and down a long hallway where he opened the door to a breathtakingly beautiful room that was twice the size of the one she had at the manor. Her trunks had already been brought up and a young maid was in the process of hanging up her clothes. The maid finished quickly and then curtseyed to Abigail. "I have drawn a bath for you, miss." She indicated to a small room connected to the bedroom where Abby could see a large bathtub. "If there is anything that you ever need, miss, I am at your service. "

"Thank you," Abby said to her with a smile. "What is your name?"

"Oh, sorry, miss, my name is Janey." The girl curtseyed again.

"Thank you, Janey. My name is Abby."

Janey gave her a nervous smile and then quickly left the room. Abby sat down on the huge bed and sighed. She had never felt more alone in her life.

Luncheon was an awkward affair for Abby as she sat alone with her grandmother who continued to observe her silently. Finally, she said, "Abigail, I am sure your father has told you why I wanted you to come to me."

"Yes, Grandmother."

"Your coming out will be the most important event of your life. You will be exposed to the most influential people in England who may ultimately determine your destiny. You are the daughter of a Lord and a Lady, Abigail, and I have taken it upon myself to find you a husband who is suitable for a young lady of your pedigree. It is what your poor mother would have wanted, God rest her soul."

Abby sighed, wondering what she had got herself into. She had only imagined herself marrying Sydney—someone whom her grandmother would definitely not approve. She couldn't imagine marrying anyone else even though she knew Sydney would never marry her anyway.

Lady Claire continued to watch Abigail eat her lunch. "I can see I have much work to do to prepare you, starting with your table manners."

Abby's fork was halfway to her mouth before she froze; looking uncertainly at her grandmother's disapproving face.

Lady Claire shook her head and then spent the next half hour explaining proper table etiquette, whose rules seemed more than ridiculous to Abby. No one had ever complained about her table manners before, but such little subtleties seemed to mean a great deal to her grandmother.

Then her grandmother poked her in her lower back.

"And stop slouching, child, and sit up straight! A lady's back must never come in contact with the back of her chair!"

Abby sighed and did as she was told. It was going to be a long six months.

When at last she was left alone in her room, Abby sat at her little desk and wrote a short letter to her parents telling them she had arrived safely. Then she wrote another letter to Annie, telling her all about her first day in Mayfair.

"Grandmother is quite the old dragon I remembered her to be," Abby wrote to her friend. "She finds fault in everything I do. I feel lonely already, Annie. How I wish you were here with me to keep me company! Will write more later. Please write soon! Love, Abby"

Abby was pleased to receive a letter from Annie two days later:

Dear Abby,

Candleford is empty without you. I am sorry you are lonely in London and that your grandmother isn't more agreeable. If it gets too awful for you there I hope you will come home right away! I don't like to think of you being so far away.

Abby, I hope you won't be angry with me, but I told Sydney that you were leaving for London that morning and he rushed over to the manor to catch you before you left. He was so upset to find you had left without saying goodbye. Harry says he has been a bear to be around ever since. He misses you, Abby. I haven't even seen him with Sophia the last few days.

I look forward to your next letter. Write soon and good luck with the Dragon.

With love from your friend,

Annie

P.S. Harry sends his love and has begged me to ask you to come home soon so Sydney won't be such a bear to work with.

Abby had tears in her eyes as she read Annie's letter. So Sydney missed her. She felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Candleford without telling him, but she really didn't think he would care. Perhaps she would write him a letter. She took out a piece of paper and dipped her pen in the inkwell, holding it tentatively above the page, but no words would come to her. She finally put her pen and paper away. It was best not to think about him for now.

---

Dorcas had to admit that it felt good to be back behind the counter of the Post Office once again. It also gave her the opportunity to observe her son so she could figure out what he was feeling now that Abby was gone. He said nothing at all about it, but he did seem quieter than usual and she heard him give great sighs from time to time. He continued seeing Sophia and taking her for walks or carriage rides on the weekends, but he didn't seem quite as happy as he used to after being in her company. Dorcas did wonder if it wasn't perhaps just her imagination that he didn't seem as happy, but her intuition was rarely wrong. One of the most telling things about Sydney's behaviour was that he had yet to take the initiative to find a permanent replacement for Abby. So Dorcas continued to help him out as needed and would be there for him when he was ready to open up to her.

Annie often waited for Dorcas to be at the Post Office before she would post her next letter to Abby, not wanting to upset Sydney, but occasionally Sydney would have to take her letter and post it for her. She wasn't aware of it, but the first time he took her letter he later copied down Abby's address in Mayfair. For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to ask his mother for it. He thought of writing to Abby many times, but then he would talk himself out of it, believing he should leave Abby alone to get on with her life. It wouldn't be fair to her to do otherwise. He hoped to get a letter from her himself, but each day that passed without hearing from her made that seem more and more unlikely to happen. The Post Office seemed lifeless without her.

One day, despite the chill of the December morning, Sydney sat outside on the bench across the street from the Post Office and reflected upon the coming Christmas, wondering if he would have anyone to celebrate it with or if Sir Timothy would take the family to London to visit Abby. Annie's eldest sister Laura Armstrong saw him sitting there, and with a smile came and sat down next to him.

"Well, Little Man, that is quite the woebegone face you have there," she said, calling him by the old endearment they used to use when he was a boy. She gave his shoulder a nudge.

"Hello, Laura, how is everything at the Armstrong household?" he asked.

"Oh, we're quite well, thank you. The boys are getting excited for Christmas, as you can imagine."

Sydney nodded. "I am glad to hear it."

"So," Laura proceeded cautiously, "I hear you're down an employee."

Sydney nodded again and looked sideways at her. "Any chance you would want to come back and work for me, Laura? I don't know how long Ma will want to fill in for Abby."

Laura looped her arm through his. "You miss Abby, don't you, Sydney?"

"Of course I miss her. But she's better off learning to become a lady with her grandmother in London. It is the life she should be living now, not languishing away in a small town Post Office."

Laura narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that what you really believe, Sydney? I never once detected in Abby the desire to be a part of the aristocracy, despite her parentage. The things she has always loved most, since she was just a very little girl, were this Post Office…and you."

Sydney looked down at his hands and was silent.

Laura continued on. "I remember her following you everywhere—her "Siddy" as she used to call you. She couldn't stand to be separated from you for a moment. I cannot imagine she's happy being away from you right now so far away in London."

Sydney looked even more miserable. "It's my fault that she's gone. I told her that I loved Sophia and that I could never love her the way she wanted me to. Now she thinks I don't want her around at all. She didn't even tell me she was going away, Laura, not even a goodbye."

Laura squeezed his arm. "I know, Annie told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Sydney."

"I mean, was it so wrong of me to tell her the truth about how I felt? It would have been far worse to let her go on having romantic notions of me. She's just sixteen years old—I am eight years older than she is! I cannot imagine Sir Timothy would even consider…." His voice trailed off and he just shook his head instead.

"Eight years? Is that all?" Laura feigned surprise. "My Richard is eleven years older than me and my Pa is eleven years older than my Ma. I'm glad we didn't let an age difference get in our way or I wouldn't be here and neither would my boys!" Laura meant to tease him, but when he failed to smile she looked seriously at him. "Sydney, if you know in your heart that you could never be in love with Abby then you did the right thing by telling her so. It wouldn't do any good to keep her on a string and continue to break her heart. She knows you love her as your family and she will realise this and come back home. You have to stop blaming yourself for her leaving, do you hear me?" She ruffled his hair like she used to when he was a boy until he finally smiled at her.

"Thank you, Laura. Thank you for listening and understanding."

"Of course, Sydney. I've always felt like a big sister to you—you can come to me any time you need to talk." She squeezed his arm again.

Sydney gave her a kiss on the cheek and then stood up. "Well, I had better get back to work now. Have a good day, Laura."

"You too, Little Man," she smiled at him.

As he walked away she called out to him again, "Sydney…"

He stopped and looked back at her.

"Just keep in mind that Abby is not always going to be just sixteen years old."

Sydney stared at her for a moment and she could have sworn he blushed. "I know, Laura," he finally said before disappearing inside the Post Office.

---

Abby had just awakened and was yawning in her bed when she heard a quick tap at her door followed by her grandmother bustling in.

"Abigail, get out of that bed. I won't have you sleeping away the day." Lady Claire frowned at her before making her way to Abby's closet and staring at her wardrobe.

Abby blinked at her and then looked over at the clock. "Grandmother, it is only seven o'clock!"

"Yes, yes, and we have much work to do if we are to get you properly fitted to be seen in public." Her grandmother began rummaging through her dresses, tossing some of them to the floor. "What on earth was your father thinking allowing you to be seen in such atrocities?"

Abby hurried out of bed and began picking up her clothes from the floor and placing them on the bed. "Grandmother, these are not atrocities! They are the height of fashion in Candleford!"

"Hmmph," Lady Claire sniffed. "I suppose they are acceptable for country living, but definitely not London! No, we will have to get you an appropriate wardrobe before you can be seen. We shall begin today." She rummaged once more through the dresses and pulled out the purple one that Annie had made for her. "This one isn't quite as bad as the rest. You may wear this one when we go out today. Hurry and dress, child. You must have your breakfast and then we shall set out to the finest shops in London." She then swept out of the room leaving Abby's head spinning as she hurried to wash and dress herself.

Abby truly believed her wardrobe was just fine until she saw what the London shops had to offer. She gasped when she was shown the most expensive gowns made by the finest couturieres not only in London but in Paris. Her grandmother smiled when she saw her reaction. "Do you understand now what real fashion is, Abigail?"

Abby just nodded as she reverently touched the fabrics before her. Two women bustled about taking Abby's measurements and then conferred in whispers with her grandmother before disappearing, only to return with several gowns for Abby to try on. Abby barely recognised herself in the mirror with each gown that she wore. They accented her figure most pleasingly, giving her an air of sophistication and maturity that was sure to turn heads before she had even officially come out to the world. She suddenly thought of Sydney and what his reaction would be if he could see her now.

Her grandmother sighed contentedly as she watched her granddaughter twirl in front of the mirror. "Despite not looking a thing like your mother, you are beautiful, Abigail. I wish your mother could see you now."

Abby smiled shyly as she regarded herself in the mirror. "Thank you, Grandmother. I can hardly believe that is me!"

Lady Claire nodded. "It just goes to show you what the proper wardrobe can do for a lady's figure. I have no doubt you will secure several offers of marriage before your first Season has even come to an end!"

Abby's smile faded as she remembered the real reason why her grandmother was doing this. She had no desire to find a husband here in London. She only wanted to be away from Sydney and Sophia, nothing more. But it would not do to convey that to her grandmother. Not yet, anyway.

Before the day was over she had a brand new wardrobe including the most fashionable shoes and undergarments. Her grandmother insisted she wear one of her new dresses home just in case one of her high society friends were to see them.

As Charles brought the boxes in from the carriage, Abby stood in the foyer removing her gloves and smiling to herself.

"Why are you smiling, Abigail?" her grandmother asked.

"Oh, I was just imagining the look on my ma's face when I show her these clothes! Fashion is her one weakness!" Abby laughed.

Lady Claire's face clouded over. "You only have one mother, Abigail, and she is dead."

Abby's smile froze. "Grandmother, I know my real mother is dead. I was speaking of my step-mother, Lady Dorcas."

Lady Claire now stood inches away from Abby and her large, blue eyes were suddenly like chips of ice as she hissed, "You are not to speak that woman's name in my house ever again, do you hear me?"

Abby's mouth dropped open. "But, Grandmother…" she began.

"That woman made your mother's life a misery, chasing after your father in a most disgraceful manner. How dare you even mention her name to me?"

Abby felt stunned. She had no idea her grandmother held such animosity for her step-mother or that she even knew who her step-mother was. "I-I'm sorry, Grandmother, but Lady Dorcas is the only mother I have ever known."

Lady Claire's hand darted out and grasped Abby's wrist and suddenly Abby found herself begin dragged down a hallway. Abby realised then that her grandmother had deceived her father about her health failing. The woman had a grip like a vice and was no more infirm than she was. Lady Claire dragged Abby into her late husband's study and placed her in front of a large portrait hanging on the wall opposite a large desk.

"That is your mother, Abigail, your one and only mother!"

Abby felt tears of indignation in her eyes from her grandmother's behaviour. She looked up at her mother's portrait, a virtual stranger to her, and tried to feel something, anything, for the woman who gave birth to her. But all she had retained of her mother were a few brief flashes of memory; a snippet of laughter here and there, her face being smothered with kisses, a holding of hands as they walked in a garden. All other memories of mothering came from Dorcas.

Lady Claire kept her vice-like grip on Abby's arm as she continued her tirade. "Your father disgraced the memory of your mother when he married that Postmistress from Candleford before your poor mother was barely cold in her grave! Why he wasn't shunned from society and stripped of his title I will never understand. And you, my own daughter's flesh and blood, come into my house and refer to that…that charlatan…that…that scheming opportunist as your 'ma'! She is no more a Lady than Charles is an Earl! Your father must have been half mad to marry such a woman. You should consider yourself lucky to have a grandmother to remove you from such influences."

Abby was now shaking with anger at her grandmother's abuse of the only mother she had ever known. She removed her arm from her grasp and pulled herself up to her full height which, she noted with satisfaction, was taller than her grandmother's. She tried to keep her voice steady as she said, "Grandmother, I know this is my mother and I am very sorry she died before I got the chance to know her. But you are wrong about my step-mother and I will not stand here and listen to you abuse her. She is the woman who raised me with nothing but love and kindness all of my life and who never once made me feel I was anything less than one of her own."

Her grandmother was now looking close to apoplexy, but Abby continued on, "Lady Dorcas is the kindest, wisest, most intelligent woman I have ever known. She nursed me through sickness, dried my tears more times than I can count, talked to me, listened to me, guided me and gave me all the love that I know my real mother would have wished for me since she could not be there for me herself. Lady Dorcas loves my father more than anything in this world and has made him very happy which has made me very happy. Now I am sorry to upset you, but that is how I feel and if you continue to abuse my ma and my papa then I am going upstairs right this minute to pack my things. I will not stay here a moment longer."

Abby turned and began walking away.

"You will not turn your back and walk away from me, Abigail!" Lady Claire cried. "How dare you speak to me in such an insolent manner? How dare you! I am your grandmother!"

Abby turned back to her, being careful not to show any sign of weakness. "It is up to you, Grandmother. If you wish to orchestrate my coming out into society then you will not speak ill of my step-mother or of my father. If that is not possible then I am leaving on the first train back to Candleford."

Lady Claire huffed and puffed and looked as though she were about to explode, but Abby just stood there looking at her calmly with her arms crossed over her chest as though waiting for a child to get over his tantrum.

"I have never been treated thusly in my life! I am ashamed of you!" Lady Claire exclaimed.

"I am sorry, Grandmother, but I am quite resolved on this issue. Please excuse me, but I have to pack if I am to catch the next train which, if I am not mistaken, leaves in two hours. I do hope you will be able to return the clothes." Abby began to walk towards the door again and this time Lady Claire did not stop her. She made it to her room and had just pulled out her trunk when Charles suddenly appeared in her doorway looking quite flustered.

"M-Miss Midwinter, Her Ladyship has requested that you refrain from leaving. Sh-She has accepted your terms."

Abby suppressed a smile. "Thank you, Charles. In that case, you may tell my grandmother that I will be happy to stay."

Charles gave her a nervous bow and quickly left. Abby sat on the edge of her bed and sighed loudly. She had won this battle, but she had no doubt her grandmother was going to find many other ways to make her life there completely miserable.

Chapter 10

Abby began feeling more and more depressed as Christmas approached. Knowing how her grandmother felt about her parents, Abby was relieved when they decided to stay in Candleford for the holiday instead of coming to London to see her. They had wanted to, but Abby told them she thought it best she spend it alone with her grandmother. Her father assured her he understood as he knew Lady Claire all too well and did not want to make things uncomfortable for Abby. So now Abby had nothing to look forward to unlike all the other Christmases that came before. It was going to be awful not being with her family in the cosy setting of a Candleford Christmas. London was so cold and impersonal and her grandmother was hardly jolly. But then she pictured Sydney kissing Sophia under the mistletoe and knew she would rather be alone in London than having her heart broken all over again in Candleford.

Things were finally beginning to thaw between Abby and her grandmother and she even managed to talk Lady Claire into Christmas shopping with her one day. Abby had brought some of the money she had made at the Post Office with her to London and was eager to buy some wonderful things for her family and friends. She found beautiful silk shawls for her mother, grandmother and Annie which were imported from India, a pair of fine leather gloves for her father and, to her grandmother's horror, a real shrunken head in a novelty shop for her little brother, knowing he would go into ecstasies over it, and a wool scarf for Harry. The only person she had trouble finding the right gift for was Sydney. She went from store to store, but could find nothing that she thought he would like. Finally, she passed a shop that sold toys and games and her gaze was arrested by a most handsome chess set sitting in the window. She remembered playing chess with Sydney from time to time when she was a little girl, and just as she had always beaten her father at the game, she always beat Sydney as well. Sydney had vowed he would beat her one day and if he did he would never let her forget it. Then he took over the Post Office and they had never got around to playing again. She smiled as she stared at the beautifully carved pieces on the board. Perhaps Sydney would be reminded of the fun they used to have playing together years ago.

Within moments the chess pieces had been carefully packed in their box and gift wrapped and Abby was eager to get home so she could begin writing her Christmas letters to include with each gift.

To her surprise, there was a letter waiting for her when she did get home. Her heart leapt when she saw Sydney's handwriting on the envelope. Charles helped her carry her gift boxes up to her room and as soon as she was alone again she held the envelope in her hand and stared at it. Her hands trembled as she opened it and took out his letter.

Dear Abby,

You left without saying goodbye. Now it is nearly Christmas and still I have not heard from you. I am so sorry that in my clumsy way of trying to protect you I ended up hurting you instead. And it breaks my heart to think that you believed I no longer wanted you around. Dear heart, that is the last thing I would ever want. You have always meant the world to me. You are my dearest friend in the whole world.

The Post Office is lonely without you—even Harry is gloomy. And now Ma tells me you won't be coming home for Christmas. I fear this is because of me and I am never going to forgive myself for driving you away.

I miss you, Abbs. Please write to me.

Always your

Siddy

Abby broke into great gulping sobs as she finished his letter. She held it to her heart as she sat on the edge of her bed and wept until she had no more tears left within her. He didn't want her out of his life after all! He truly missed her! Now she wished she didn't have to stay in London over the Christmas holiday. She might even be able to bear seeing him kiss Sophia if only she could see him again. She was suddenly desperate to go home.

Realising she would soon have to go down to dinner, she soaked a cloth in cold water and held it to her eyes to erase the signs of her crying. Unfortunately, it didn't work quickly enough.

"Have you been crying, child?" Lady Claire asked as Abby joined her at the dinner table.

"Just a little, Grandmother. I had a letter from home."

"Not bad news, I hope?"

Abby shook her head. "No, just a letter from someone I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to."

Lady Claire studied Abby as she ate her soup. "I suppose you are sad that you won't be spending Christmas with your family this year."

"No, Grandmother, I am happy to stay here with you."

"Hmmm…" Her grandmother didn't seem convinced.

"I wouldn't leave you alone at Christmastime, Grandmother…unless you would like to come to Candleford?"

"Heaven forbid!" Lady Claire gave a shudder. "I wouldn't be alone, Abigail, I always spend Christmas with your Uncle Cedric and his two boys—terrors the both of them—at the family estate."

Abby looked confused. "I thought this was the family home?"

"Heavens no, child! This is just the house your grandfather bought for me as he knew I preferred London to the country. No, the Spencer estate is in Kent. After your grandfather died Cedric became Lord of the manor. Your uncle is eager to see you again, Abigail."

Abby nodded and sighed. It didn't look like she had a chance of going home after all.

They continued to eat their dinner, but Lady Claire noticed that Abby was only pushing her food around and barely eating a thing.

"Abigail, unless you are dying to spend your Christmas with two unholy terrors plaguing you the entire time, I suggest that you let me deal with Cedric and his brood and you can go home to Candleford until after New Year. I expect you back promptly, though, to complete your preparation for your coming out."

Abby looked up with disbelief. "Grandmother, do you really mean it?" she asked.

Lady Claire raised an eyebrow at her. "I always mean what I say, Abigail."

Abby threw decorum to the wind and got up to give her grandmother a hug. "Thank you, Grandmother! I do miss home terribly!"

"Hmmph," her grandmother replied, looking rather unsettled by the hug. "Finish your dinner, child, then go on up to bed. I'll have Charles take you to the train station in the morning. I had better telegram your father to meet you at the station."

"No, please don't tell him, Grandmother. I want to surprise everyone," Abby said.

"Well, since no one will be meeting you, then I insist on sending Charles with you so he can see you safely to Candleford."

Poor Charles, Abby thought to herself. "Thank you, Grandmother, but I would hate for Charles to go through all that trouble."

"Nonsense, he does what I tell him to do and a young lady does not travel alone!"

As Abby tucked into her meal with renewed appetite, she shook her head in wonder that her grandmother was being so accommodating after the way she had stood up to her the other day. Maybe the old dragon had a heart after all.

---

The next morning Abby was up bright and early for she and Charles would be catching the seven o'clock train to Inglestone. Her grandmother stood like a sentinel as Abby's trunks were packed into the carriage and then made sure Abby was dressed properly for travelling.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay, Grandmother?" Abby asked once again, feeling guilty for leaving her grandmother when she had been expected to stay.

"Of course I am sure, Abigail. You will be much happier spending Christmas with your family and I shall do my yearly tour of our Kent estate as I always do."

"Well, I did get you a present." Abby held out the handsomely wrapped gift to Lady Claire who looked at it with surprise. "Happy Christmas, Grandmother."

"Thank you, child. Shall I open it now or wait until Christmas?" she asked.

"Oh, do open it now, Grandmother!" Abby said excitedly.

Lady Claire carefully peeled away the wrapping paper and slowly opened the box. "It's beautiful, Abigail, thank you," she said as she took out the shawl and draped it across her arm.

"I chose the blue one because I thought it matched the colour of your eyes perfectly!" Abby said.

Her grandmother looked rather touched. "And so it does. That was very thoughtful of you, Abigail. Now, I have something for you as well."

Lady Claire went up to her room and came back down with a small box wrapped with a bow. "May I open it now, Grandmother?" Abby asked excitedly.

"Yes, I suppose it is only fair since you allowed me to open mine."

Abby eagerly opened the little box and her mouth fell open when she saw the diamond drop necklace inside. "Oh, Grandmother! This is…this is exquisite!"

When she looked up at her grandmother's face she could see that her eyes looked suspiciously moist.

"Your mother wore that very necklace during her first Season. She was wearing it the day she met your father. Now it is yours to wear for your first Season, Abigail."

Abby felt tears stinging her eyes as she held the necklace that had once belonged to her mother. "Thank you, Grandmother, I cannot wait to wear it."

Charles suddenly appeared and cleared his throat, reminding them it was time to go. Abby placed the necklace carefully back in its box, then surprised her grandmother again by giving her a hug. "Happy Christmas, Grandmother. I will see you in January!"

"Happy Christmas, child."

Lady Claire then stepped back and watched stoically as Charles helped Abby into the carriage.

"Goodbye, Grandmother! Give my regards to Uncle Cedric!" Abby called out as the carriage pulled away.

Her grandmother nodded and lifted a hand in farewell.

By the time Abby and Charles had arrived in Inglestone it had begun to snow. Charles quickly hired a carriage to take them to Candleford before the snow could stick and deter their journey. The closer they got to the manor the more excited Abby became knowing how surprised her family was going to be. Abby then wondered if her parents had already sent her gifts to her grandmother's house. As it turned out, Abby arrived just as her father and mother were getting into their carriage to go to the Post Office.

"Ma! Papa!" Abby called out to them.

They both looked over with surprise. "Abigail, what are you doing home?" her father asked.

Abby quickly climbed out of the carriage and hugged them both. "Grandmother said I should go home for Christmas whilst she goes to Kent to stay with Uncle Cedric."

Timothy put his arms around her. "Well, this is a wonderful surprise, darling. Christmas wasn't going to be the same without you."

Dorcas smiled at her. "We have been given an early Christmas present, Timothy, to have our girl home."

"Indeed we have," Timothy beamed at them both.

"And what a beautiful new dress you are wearing! Your grandmother must have taken you shopping already!" Dorcas exclaimed.

Abby twirled around. "Oh, Ma, the London shops are fantastic! I have never seen such beautiful clothes in my life!"

"Just don't say that to the Miss Pratts!" Dorcas said, making them both laugh.

Abby then remembered Charles who was now struggling to get Abby's trunks out of the carriage. "Papa, Ma, this is Charles, Grandmother's butler. He was kind of enough to accompany me on the train."

Timothy went and helped Charles with the trunks and then shook his hand. "Good to see you again, Charles. Thank you for bringing Abigail home."

"My pleasure, Sir Timothy. It is good to see you again, too."

"You must stay for some refreshment before you leave, Charles," Dorcas said.

"Oh, thank you, Lady Dorcas, but I must get back to Her Ladyship as soon as possible."

Abby went up to him and grasped his hand. "Thank you again for bringing me home, Charles," she said. "Happy Christmas."

Charles bobbed his head and his cheeks went pink. "You are welcome, Miss Midwinter. Happy Christmas to you, too."

Timothy reached into his pocket and brought out some pound notes. "For your trouble, Charles," he said as he placed them in the butler's hand.

"Thank you, Sir Timothy!" Charles said, breaking into a rare smile.

After they had waved goodbye to Charles, Abby gave a little squeal. "I am so happy to be home!" she cried.

"And we are happy to have you home! Now, let us get inside before we all freeze!" Dorcas said with a smile.

After she had warmed herself by the fire, Abby looked over at her mother. "Ma, how is Sydney? Has he found a replacement for me yet?"

"No, he hasn't found a replacement for you—unless you count me filling in when I can," Dorcas replied. Then she said softly, "He misses you, Abby. He asks about you all the time."

Abby sighed, feeling horribly guilty. "I know, Ma. I got a letter from him just yesterday."

"Did you? Oh, I am glad," Dorcas said.

"I want to see him, Ma. Is it all right if I go now?"

"But it's snowing, darling!"

"Yes, but not much and I've ridden in snow before. I won't be gone long, I promise. I want to see Annie, too."

Dorcas sighed. "Well, all right, as long as you are careful."

Abby jumped up to find her coat and gloves, then went out to the stables to get her horse. Her insides began to quiver at the thought of seeing Sydney again. She hoped he would be happy to see her.

---

Abby felt half frozen by the time she reached the Post Office. She slipped off her horse and led it into the stable and then peeked into the window to see Sydney and Harry busily helping several customers who looked to be sending last minute Christmas packages to loved ones. She smiled as she watched them work and then decided to find Annie first until things slowed down at the Post Office.

As she was walking towards the Pratts' shop she saw Sophia emerge from the hotel followed by the hotel manager, Mr Fielding. They both looked skyward and laughed as they held out their hands to catch the little snowflakes that were slowly floating down to them. Abby was then astonished to see Mr Fielding reach over and raise the collar of Sophia's little coat around her neck to protect her from the cold. The smile she gave him in return only further astonished Abby as she watched them walk down High Street together. Abby quickly ducked into the Pratts' shop, eager to find Annie.

"Why Abigail," Ruby Pratt said with surprise, "I thought you were staying in London this Christmas."

"Good afternoon, Miss Ruby, Miss Pearl. I was going to stay with my grandmother in London, but she thought it best I come home instead. I will return after New Year, though," Abby explained. She suddenly felt self conscious as she noticed the sisters were staring her up and down.

"What a lovely dress you are wearing," Ruby said.

"A most exquisite design," Pearl agreed as she walked over and began touching the fabric, forcing Abby to turn around so she could see it fully. "You must have purchased this in London."

"Y-Yes, my grandmother took me shopping at some of the finest shops there," Abby replied.

"Ruby, we really must get down to London soon and see some of these new designs," Pearl said to her sister.

"Ooh, I would love to go to London, sister!" Ruby said enthusiastically.

"Miss Pearl, is Annie here today?" Abby asked.

Pearl was still studying her dress. "Oh, yes, Annie is in the back. You may see her if you like."

Eager to escape their scrutiny, Abby quickly thanked them and opened the door to the back work room.

Annie didn't look up when Abby came in the door. "I'm almost finished with this hem, Miss Pearl, should only be a moment longer," Annie said, assuming it was Pearl coming to check up on her.

"That is completely unacceptable, Miss Timmins," Abby said in her best Pearl imitation.

Annie's head flew up and she nearly screamed when she saw it was Abby. "Abby! What are you doing here? I thought you were staying in London over Christmas!" She ran up and gave Abby a big hug. "Oh, I am so happy to see you! I've missed you so much! How long will you be staying?"

"Hi, Annie!" Abby cried as she hugged her friend back. "I've missed you, too—more than you could ever imagine! My grandmother let me come home for Christmas. I'll be here until after New Year!"

"How wonderful!" Annie exclaimed. "Does Sydney know you're home yet?"

Abby shook her head. "No, I was on my way to see him, but he and Harry looked really busy at the Post Office so I decided to come here instead."

"He's going to be so happy to see you, Abby."

"I hope so. I got a letter from him just yesterday."

"Oh, I'm so glad he finally wrote to you! Every time he sees me he asks if I have heard from you. He looked rather hurt when I told him we had been exchanging letters every few days."

Abby felt a pang of guilt. "I feel terrible for never having written to him, Annie. I just didn't know what to say!"

"Well, he really has missed you, Abby. He feels terrible for having hurt you."

"I know. I will speak to him later, I promise." Abby then remembered what she had seen just moments before. "Annie, is Sydney still seeing Sophia?"

Annie thought for a moment. "Why, yes, I believe so. I don't see him with her quite as often, but then things have been really busy at the Post Office and at the hotel."

Abby lowered her voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, just now I saw her walking out with Mr Fielding!"

"Mr Fielding?" Annie exclaimed. "Well, he is her boss. Perhaps they were just taking care of some hotel business."

"I don't think so. They were laughing together and the smile she gave him looked anything but employee to employer."

Annie's brow furrowed. "Oh, dear! Are you sure of what you saw, Abby? It wasn't just wishful thinking?"

"I am very sure! He even drew her collar around her neck and then took her arm as they went walking."

"Poor Sydney! I will have to ask Harry if he's heard anything."

Abby looked almost gleeful. "Maybe Sophia isn't quite the lady Sydney thinks she is!"

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions, Abby. She and Mr Fielding might just be good friends and nothing more. We don't want to go stirring up trouble where there isn't any. Besides, it is really none of our business. I'm sure Sydney knows how to take care of himself."

Abby nodded, looking rather contrite. "You're right as always, Annie. I won't tell Syd what I saw. I certainly don't want to upset him on my first day back!"

"Of course you don't. Oh, Abby, I am so glad you're home! You will have to tell me how your visit with Sydney goes."

"I will, Annie. Speaking of which, I should try to see him now. The Post Office will be closing soon."

"Good luck, Abby." Annie gave her friend another hug.

"Thank you, I'm going to need it!"

Abby left her friend and then took a deep breath as she stepped outside. It was time to tell Sydney she was home.

Abby peeked into the Post Office window again before going inside and could see Harry sorting some of the packages and Sydney with his back turned as he was taking down a telegram. She gathered her courage and opened the door. Harry turned to see who had come in and a big smile lit his face when he saw it was Abby, but she quickly placed her finger to her lips for him to remain quiet so she could surprise Sydney. He nodded his head and beamed at her before discreetly disappearing into the kitchen to give them some privacy.

Abby walked quietly to the counter and stood with her hands upon it as she studied Sydney's broad shoulders and bowed head as he wrote down the message from the telegraph machine. She waited until the message had finished and then said, "So what does a girl have to do around here to get some service?"

She could see Sydney's back stiffen and then he whirled around to see her grinning at him.

"Abby!" he shouted joyfully as he ran from behind the counter and gathered her into a big bear hug. "What are you doing here? Ma said you were staying in London for Christmas!"

"I hope you're not disappointed?" Abby asked, feeling blissfully happy to be in his arms.

Sydney continued to hold her tight. "Of course not. Oh, Abby, I've missed you so much! I am so sorry that I hurt you. You have no idea how tortured I've been over it. You didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye."

"I know, Sydney, and I'm sorry. You wanted me to get over you so that is what I set out to do. I didn't want to be in your way anymore."

Sydney held her away from him so he could look into her eyes. "You have never been in my way, Abby, and I never wanted you to leave. And I certainly never wanted you out of my life. I am just so sorry that I made you think otherwise." He hugged her to him again and said quietly, "Did you get my letter?"

Abby now had tears in her eyes. "Yes, I got it yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't write to you, Siddy, I guess I was still too upset."

He patted her back. "That's all right, dear, I understand. But you're here now and that is all that matters!"

"Yes, for now. I have to return to London after New Year."

Sydney looked disappointed. "So soon?"

"I'm afraid so. I promised Grandmother I would go through with this 'coming out' business. She's bound and determined to find me a prince to marry!" She gave a humourless laugh.

Sydney felt an odd pang deep in his belly at the thought of Abby marrying. She was still so young! He couldn't imagine her becoming someone's wife and moving away forever. But perhaps it was time for him to realise she was nearing marrying age, and a beautiful girl like her would have no trouble finding a man to marry her—a rich, upper class man with money and a title. She wouldn't be his little 'Abbs' for long and the thought of it and the thought of some strange man taking her for his wife made him want to weep—or punch a wall.

Instead, he tried to smile. "Well, at least we have you here now and we shall have to make the most of our time together!"

"Oh, yes, Syd!" she said enthusiastically. "There is nothing I love better than a Candleford Christmas!"

"Then you shall have it!" he said with a flourish.

She smiled at him and in studying his face could see his eyes looked tired and he looked a bit pale. She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "Are you feeling all right, Syd? You look so tired."

He gave a little laugh. "I'm fine, Abby, it's just been very busy here at the Post Office. Ma has had to do her duties as the Squire's wife and make her Christmas rounds, bringing baskets and such to those in need, so we haven't had her help here at the Post Office. Poor Thomas has had to cover Harry's route as well as his own so Harry can help out here behind the counter."

Abby winced. "Oh, Sydney, I'm so sorry to have left you so short-handed. I will help you every day that I am here until I have to leave again."

"Thank you, dear heart, that would be a great help," he said with relief as he took her hand and kissed it.

She continued to study his face. "And how are things with Sophia?" she asked carefully.

He smiled almost a little too brightly. "Fine, fine, the hotel has been very busy with Christmas coming and all, as you can imagine, as has the Post Office, so we really haven't had a lot of time together."

Abby thought of Sophia and Mr Fielding walking out together and her heart went out to Sydney. "I'm sorry, Syd. I'm sure you must be missing her," she said quietly.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you to say. I'm fine, though—really I am. More than fine now that you are home!" He gave her another hug and then Harry stuck his head around the door frame. "Can I say hello now?"

Abby laughed. "Please do! Hi, Harry!"

"Hi, Abby, it's really good to see you again," Harry said as he came up and took her hands in his. "Been dull as sticks around here without you—no offence, Sydney."

"None taken," Sydney said good-naturedly. "And you're right—it has been dull as sticks around here."

Two customers came into the Post Office at that moment and Abby turned to Sydney. "You go upstairs and get some rest now, Syd. I'll take care of this and then Harry and I will close up for you."

Sydney began to protest, but Abby interrupted him. "I won't take no for an answer, now go!"

Sydney gave her his special smile, the one that caused his dimples to flash, and she felt her stomach go all fluttery. Then she shooed him away. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sydney."

"Thanks, Abbs. See you tomorrow!" He finally left her and Harry to the customers, which they quickly took care of, and then it was time to close up for the evening.

Harry looked over at Abby as they counted and locked away the day's cash. "I really am glad you are here, Abby, even if just for a short while. Sydney's been having a real hard time since you left. He's been working himself to death and I don't think Sophia's been there for him much, either. And he's been feeling really bad about you, too. He's really missed you."

Abby placed her hand on his arm. "I feel terrible about leaving the way I did, Harry. I thought it was what Sydney wanted so he could concentrate on Sophia. I had no idea he missed me so much. I'm going to help him as much as I can whilst I am here."

"I'm glad, Abby. I can tell that just seeing you again has done him a world of good."

Abby's smile turned thoughtful. "Harry, why hasn't Sydney hired anyone to take my place? I know my ma can only help out so much with all that she has to do at home. I've been gone a month. I would have thought he would have hired someone new by now."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I think he was waiting for you to come back. I don't think he's ready to let you go yet, Abby."

"And I'm not ready to let him go, either," Abby thought to herself. "Well, Harry, I had better get home before Ma starts to worry. I told her I wouldn't be out long. You can make your regular rounds tomorrow as I will be here to help Sydney."

"Thanks, Abby. See you tomorrow!" Harry said as he gathered his coat and hat before leaving.

"See you tomorrow, Harry!" She waved goodbye and then glanced around the beloved Post Office with a smile before turning out the lights and locking the door behind her.

---

Dorcas had been waiting anxiously by the door when Abby arrived home. "Were you and Sydney able to talk, Abby?" she asked.

Abby smiled at her as she took off her coat and gloves. "Yes, Ma, I think he was really happy to see me!"

"Of course he was happy to see you! I told you that he's missed you."

Dorcas continued to study her face. "And are you all right, Abby?"

Abby gave her a hug. "Yes, Ma, I'm fine, but I'm worried about Sydney. He looked so tired and pale tonight. Harry says he's been working too hard since I've been away."

Dorcas nodded. "Yes. Poor Sydney, I feel terrible that I haven't been able to help him out more at the Post Office. But I'm afraid that is how it always is just before Christmas. Things will quiet down for him once the holidays are over."

"Well, I plan to help him out as long as I am here, Ma, starting tomorrow. I can't stand to see him looking so exhausted. After all, it's my fault for leaving him short-handed," Abby said sadly.

Dorcas put her hand on her arm. "Oh, no, Abby, you mustn't think that. Your father and I wanted you to go to London so you could prepare for your coming out. Sydney knows it was only a matter of time before you would have had to leave the Post Office."

"But why hasn't he hired a replacement for me yet, Ma? I've been away for a month already."

Dorcas sighed. "I honestly don't know why. Maybe he just hasn't found the right person yet. But I think it's wonderful that you will be helping him out whilst you are here. I am so proud of you, Abby!" She put her arm around Abby and gave her a squeeze.

Abby blushed and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. "Thanks, Ma."

Sydney greeted Abby with a smile as she arrived for work the next morning. "It's good to have you back, Abbs," he said happily.

"It's good to be back! I've missed this place—even if I've only been away a month."

She searched his face for a moment and was relieved to see the strain and tiredness was gone from his eyes. "You look better this morning, Sydney. Did you sleep well last night?"

"I slept like a baby—first time in a month!" He smiled at her again. "It was very kind of you to have noticed."

"Well, I was worried about you last night. You shouldn't be working yourself so hard, Siddy, you'll make yourself sick."

An emotion she couldn't quite read flashed briefly across his face and he reached out and touched her cheek. "I'm fine, dear heart, really I am—and even more so now that you are here to help me today. I'm sure Thomas will be grateful, too, not to have to cover two routes."

Just as he said that, Thomas and Harry came in together, puffing out the cold air from their lungs and rubbing their hands together. "Good morning, Abby," Harry greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Abby greeted them back.

Thomas tipped his cap to her. "It is good to have you home, Abigail. You must come and say hello to John and Hannah and Mrs Brown. I know they would be delighted to see you."

"Thank you, Thomas. I will!"

Thomas and Harry quickly gathered the mail in their sacks and were soon on their way, leaving Abby and Sydney alone to deal with the customers, who were now starting to arrive with arms loaded with packages and Christmas letters. Abby turned and smiled at Sydney who gave her a little wink in return and then they remained busy for the rest of the day.

Just as Harry arrived back from his rounds, Sydney was called away to his forge to sort out a few problems. By the time he returned Abby noticed he looked tired again, especially since there were several more customers waiting in a long queue. He joined Abby and Harry behind the counter, but Abby, seeing the exhausted look on his face, pulled him into the kitchen for a moment.

"Sydney, you've done enough for today. Harry and I can handle the rest. Go upstairs and get some rest before you fall over."

Sydney shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Abby. This Post Office is my responsibility and I'm not going to leave…."

Abby stopped him by putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't argue with me, Sydney. Harry and I have this all in hand. Go upstairs and lie down right now."

She could feel him smile beneath her fingers. "Yes, ma'am," he said as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, Abby."

She waited until he had gone upstairs before going back to help Harry. Later, she found Sydney's housekeeper and cook, Mrs York, and asked her to keep an eye on him and to make sure he was eating enough.

"He has been picking at his food a bit the past few weeks, Abby, but it seems like his appetite returned in full last night. He ate everything I put in front of him!" Mrs York chuckled.

"Thank you, Mrs York. Make sure he eats everything again tonight, won't you? I've been a bit worried about him."

Mrs York patted her arm. "It is sweet of you to watch out for him, my dear. If you ask me, I think he's been depressed ever since you went away. Now he is perking up again!"

"Do you really think so, Mrs York? I thought with Sophia being here he wouldn't even notice I was gone."

Mrs York waved her hand like she was shooing a fly. "Bah, that Sophia is too busy worrying about that hotel and making sure that boss of hers is happy to be giving our Sydney much thought. If you ask me, she's got her eye on someone else, if you know what I mean."

Abby felt hope leaping inside of her that someone else was confirming her suspicions about Sophia and Mr Fielding, but at the same time she felt indignation on Sydney's behalf for the way Sophia was treating him after all that he had done for her. No wonder the poor man was depressed! Well, she would just have to double her efforts to prove to him how much he was loved. She gave Mrs York's hand a squeeze.

"Thank you for watching out for him, Mrs York."

With Christmas Eve coming the following day, Abby brought her presents for Annie and Harry with her to the Post Office. Annie would be going home to be with her family in Lark Rise after she finished her work at the Pratts' shop that day and Harry would be going to his sister's home to celebrate.

"Oh, Abby, it's so beautiful!" Annie exclaimed when she saw the brightly coloured shawl that Abby had given to her. Harry watched admiringly as Annie placed it around her shoulders.

"It looks beautiful on you, Annie. It really brings out the colour of your eyes and hair!" he said appreciatively.

Annie blushed. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry liked his new wool scarf as well and immediately took off his old tattered one and wrapped the one Abby gave him around his neck. "I feel warmer already!" he laughed. "Thank you, Abby."

"You're welcome, Harry. Happy Christmas!" Abby replied.

Annie then leaned towards Abby and asked, "So what did you get Sydney for Christmas?"

"I got him a very handsome chess set," Abby replied.

"A chess set!" Annie exclaimed. "Why a chess set?"

Abby explained how she and Sydney used to play chess years ago and how much they enjoyed the game. "He vowed he would one day beat me!" she laughed.

Harry nodded his head. "He'll love it, Abby. I happen to know he's still keen on the game as he and I have been playing occasionally down at the tavern with my old set. He was just telling me the other day what a formidable player you used to be. He's getting pretty good himself now. I always thought I was a strong player, but now I have a hard time beating him myself. You might finally have a little competition, Abby!"

"I doubt it, Harry," Abby said with teasing smugness, "but it will be fun to watch him try to beat me anyway."

Harry laughed whilst Annie gave her a hug goodbye. "Happy Christmas, Abby!" she said and then she whispered in her ear, "Are you going to try to get Sydney under the mistletoe this year?"

Abby giggled and whispered back, "What do you think?"

Annie began to giggle, too. "Good luck!"

"Thank you, I'll need it!" Abby said, making them both giggle again.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head at them. "Come on, Annie, I'll see you home before it gets dark. Happy Christmas, Abby!"

"Happy Christmas!" Abby stood and waved goodbye to them and then returned to the Post Office to say goodbye to Sydney before going home.

"Will you be helping us decorate the Christmas tree tomorrow, Syd?" she asked him.

"Of course I'll be there! I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied.

"Good! Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Abbs. And thank you again for all your help." He gave her a quick hug goodbye and then sent her on her way.

---

Christmas Eve dawned bright and clear and bitterly cold. Thomas arrived at the Post Office with his thick, wool scarf wrapped around his neck and face so high that only his eyes were showing. He had his little dog Cassie with him who was also bundled up in a little wool sweater. Sydney didn't know how the petite Jack Russell could move her stubby legs around the bulk of the sweater. Sydney patted her on the head and then quickly ran into the kitchen to return with a leftover sausage from breakfast. "Happy Christmas, Cassie," he said as he bent down to offer it to her. She daintily took it from his fingers and then happily devoured it in two bites.

Sydney laughed as Thomas beamed at him. "She does love her sausages, sir!"

Since it was not only Christmas Eve but a Saturday to boot, the Post Office would be closing at one o'clock that day and Thomas would have only the morning rounds to make. Harry had been given the day off, as he had a longer journey to reach his sister's home, and Sydney had insisted that Abby stay home to enjoy the holiday during her brief time in Candleford. He could handle the Post Office by himself for a few hours before joining his family to decorate the Christmas tree.

"Take my carriage into Lark Rise, Thomas, that way your rounds will go quicker. It is too cold to ride that bicycle this morning," Sydney said to his postman.

"Thank you, sir, I do appreciate it!" Thomas replied. "And this is from Mrs Brown and me. Happy Christmas, Mr Dowland." Thomas handed Sydney a rather bulky but prettily wrapped package and Sydney knew what it was before he even opened it. Margaret Brown was well known for her hand-knitted sweaters.

"Thank you, Thomas, and please thank Mrs Brown for me as well," he said with a grateful smile. "When you return this afternoon I will have your Christmas bonus and a few things for John and Hannah waiting for you."

"Thank you, sir. I had best leave now if I am to finish by one o'clock—Mrs Brown has been making calves' foot jelly for me and I can scarcely wait to taste it!"

Sydney laughed. "Far be it from me to keep you from your calves' foot jelly, Thomas! The horse and carriage are ready to go and waiting for you out back."

After Thomas had gone, Sydney placed the Open sign on the door and was soon kept busy by a slow but steady stream of customers. He was glad to be working alone as it gave him a chance to think about his meeting with Sophia the night before. He had gone to the hotel to bring her a Christmas gift and had hoped to have a nice chat with her. They had both been so busy the past few weeks that they had little time to see each other. But Sophia had seemed rather distracted and almost nervous around him. She thanked him for the gift and said she would wait until Christmas morning to open it and then she gave him a small gift in return. Then, when he asked her to sit with him in the hotel lobby so they could talk, she had looked around nervously before sitting down and explaining how busy things were at the hotel for the holidays. Soon the conversation began to lag and Sydney began to feel as if he had overstayed his welcome. As he stood up to take his leave he bent down to give her a kiss, but to his dismay she suddenly took a step back.

"I-I'm sorry, Sydney, but I really should get back to work now. I hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas!" she said with a nervous smile.

Sydney frowned slightly. "Of course. I'm sorry to have kept you. Happy Christmas, Sophia."

"Happy Christmas, Sydney."

He walked home feeling rather disconcerted. He was beginning to realise that Sophia was slipping away from him and he had no idea what he might have done to cause this to happen.

He continued to ponder this as he helped the last of the customers and soon Thomas arrived back from his rounds, signalling it was time to close for the day. Sydney hurriedly placed the Closed sign on the door and gave Thomas his Christmas gifts before sending him home to his calves' foot jelly. Then he gathered his coat and hat and loaded the presents he had bought for his family into the carriage before making his way out to the manor. At least he would be spending Christmas with people whom he knew without a doubt truly cared for him.

As he made his way down High Street, he was stopped by a small girl holding a basket of mistletoe. She offered him two sprigs for a penny. She looked painfully thin and cold as she stood there holding the sprigs out to him with a hopeful look on her face. Sydney's heart went out to her. He reached into his pocket and brought out a pound coin and placed it in her hand as he took the sprigs from her. The way her little face lit up when she saw the coin was his reward. Then he unwound the scarf from his neck and placed it around hers.

"Happy Christmas, little one," he said.

She looked down at the beautiful scarf with awe and then gave him a huge smile as he waved goodbye to her. Then he placed the sprigs of mistletoe in his coat pocket, smiling as he thought of giving one to his ma so she could chase Sir Timothy around with it. They were still the two most in love people he had ever seen. He hoped one day to have someone to share that kind of love with for the rest of his life, too. Sadly, he now realised that someone, most likely, wasn't going to be Sophia.

---

Sydney had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the sun was now replaced by ominous looking dark clouds. Judging by the increasing chill in the air it looked like they might be in for some snow. He lifted his collar around his neck and was only too glad to arrive at the manor where he could warm himself by the fire.

Dorcas greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How were things at the Post Office today, Sydney?" she asked.

"Fine, Ma. Busy, but not overwhelmingly so," he replied.

"I am happy to hear it. I was worried about you being there all alone today."

"I didn't mind it, Ma. It gave me a chance to do some thinking."

"Oh?" Dorcas searched his face. "Is everything all right, dear?"

He took her hand and kissed it. "Yes, Ma, everything's fine. I just came to a realization, that's all."

Dorcas wanted to hear more, but they were interrupted by Ben galloping down the stairs when he heard Sydney had arrived. "Hi, Syd, wait until you see the tree we just brought in!" he said in a voice that had begun as deep and then broke up an octave. Now that he was thirteen years old his voice had begun to change and it was a never-ending source of embarrassment for him when it cracked in mid sentence.

Sydney playfully punched Ben in the shoulder as he laughed. "Voice still giving you fits, is it? Don't worry, it will settle down soon."

Ben blushed and punched him back. "Come on and I'll show you the tree!"

"Hold on, Ben, I have some presents to bring in and then I have to get my horse into the stable. It looks like it's about to snow outside."

"Presents? I'll help you bring them in, Syd," Ben said eagerly as he ran out the door.

"Thought you would," Sydney said wryly. He chuckled as he watched him go. "He looks more and more like Sir Timothy every day, doesn't he?" he said to his mother.

Dorcas smiled proudly. "Yes, he does. Actually, he looks just as I remember Timothy looking at that age. Sometimes when I look at Benjamin I feel as though I have stepped back in time."

Sydney looked rather wistful. "It must be something to marry someone you have known your whole life, see the changes they go through and then see what you once were in your own children."

"Yes, it has been a blessing." Dorcas sighed contentedly.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said as he reached into his coat pocket and brought out the sprigs of mistletoe. "Speaking of Sir Timothy, I thought you might enjoy chasing him around with one of these." He handed her one of the sprigs which caused her to laugh out loud.

"Oh, I shall put this to good use, I promise you!"

Sydney laughed at the sudden brightness in her eyes and then absently placed the remaining sprig in his vest pocket.

Sydney was just about to follow Ben outside when he saw Abby coming down the stairs. She was wearing one of her new London dresses and her raven hair was cascading in waves all around her shoulders. The dress accented a womanly figure he had never noticed in her before and she looked so beautiful and so grown up that he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"Hi, Siddy! Happy Christmas Eve!" she said happily as she ran up to him and gave him a hug.

"Happy Christmas Eve, Abbs," he said as he hugged her back and placed a kiss on her soft, warm cheek. She looked so happy to see him that a warm glow flooded through him and he no longer felt the need to seek out the warmth of the fireplace.

"Papa said he thought it looked like snow was coming. Wouldn't that be perfect for Christmas, Syd?" she said as she ran to the door to look outside just as Ben was coming in with his arms filled with packages.

"Yes, it would be perfect for Christmas," Sydney agreed as he followed her outside in time to see the first flakes beginning to fall. He was just about to take his horse to the stables when a groomsman suddenly appeared and took the horse for him. He had forgotten the luxuries that came with manor life.

With nothing left to do outside they turned to go back into the warmth of the house. Abby gave an involuntary shiver as she hadn't put a coat on before going outside. Sydney took his own coat off and placed it around her shoulders. "Don't want you catching pneumonia now," he said as she looked up at him with a grateful smile.

"I hope you are both hungry as Cook has made quite a feast for our lunch!" Dorcas said as they came inside.

"I know I'm hungry!" Ben exclaimed, his voice jumping up an octave once again.

"Oh, you're always hungry!" Abby admonished her little brother as he ran past them to the dining room.

Timothy arrived home just in time to sit down with them. He had been out giving Christmas bonuses to his steward and other staff. "Mmmm…something smells good," he said as he put his arm around Dorcas and gave her a kiss. He felt her smile beneath his lips. "You have mistletoe duties later," she whispered to him.

"I do, do I? Well, where is it? I shall start performing my duties now," he laughed softly as he put his other arm around her and pulled her close.

Dorcas giggled. "Behave yourself, the children are watching!"

"Then they shall see how much their father loves their mother!" he said as he kissed her soundly on the lips causing Abby to giggle and Ben to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Dorcas finally managed to push him away, but her cheeks were now bright pink and her eyes were shining even more brightly as she sat down at the table. Sydney couldn't help but laugh at them knowing the mistletoe was already working its magic for his ma. He loved seeing her so happy. Abby must have been thinking the same thing because she looked over at him and gave him a little wink which suddenly caused a strange tingling sensation to occur deep inside of him. The kiss they had shared together on Mischief Night suddenly flashed unbidden in his mind and he had to tear his gaze away from her before it could cause other reactions to occur in his body. Reactions he had no business having over his young friend. He took his wine glass instead and quickly drained its contents whilst he searched for a way to change the subject.

"I had a letter from Pa yesterday," he managed to say. "He sends his regards and wishes us all a happy Christmas."

"How is James doing these days, Sydney?" Dorcas asked. She would always be grateful to the man who allowed her to raise his son.

"He's doing quite well. His businesses have been booming in Manchester. He sent me another cheque for my share of the profits, in fact." James had made Sydney a shareholder in all his companies and sent him the profit shares quarterly. Sydney had accumulated quite a bit of money in his savings account. Perhaps one day he would be able to acquire his own manor in which to raise a family. "George and Molly are half grown now. I really should pay them a visit soon before they forget their big brother."

"I am very glad to hear it, Sydney. James has done really well for himself." Dorcas patted Sydney's hand and smiled at him.

Sydney squeezed her hand back. "Thanks, Ma."

Dorcas looked over at Timothy and could see he was feeling uncomfortable with all this talk of James Dowland, who had once been a part of her life, so she sent him a gaze filled with such smouldering promises that any feelings of jealousy were wiped clean from his mind. He sent her a gaze back that said he was looking forward to her fulfilling those promises.

They continued to enjoy their lunch in relative silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts for what this Christmas might bring. Sydney found his gaze straying to Abby despite his efforts to keep his mind off the beautiful woman she had seemingly become overnight, not knowing that she was also stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She had finally accepted the fact that he would never love her the way that she loved him, but it hadn't stopped her from dreaming of him and of what might have been between them. A sigh escaped her before she could stop it. If only…

---

They spent the rest of the afternoon finding the perfect spot to place the Christmas tree and then spent a happy few hours placing the ornaments and candles whilst watching the snow fall outside the windows. Abby laughed when she found the ornaments that she and Ben had made when they were very young. It was obvious they had been made by little hands and were half falling apart, but Dorcas refused to part with them so up they went on the tree. Sydney found one of the ornaments that Abby had made for him years and years ago with 'Siddy' scrawled across it in her childish hand. He held it in his own hand for a few moments longer as he glanced over at her, smiling at how her eyes were shining with the excitement of Christmas. Then he placed it carefully on the tree.

Enough snow had fallen by the time they had finished that Ben and Abby ran outside to play in it. Ben immediately pelted his sister with a snowball and she was quick to return the favour. Dorcas and Timothy smiled at each other as they listened to their children's laughter and squeals.

After Ben started to overwhelm Abby with snowballs she shouted, "Sydney, get out here—I need your help!"

Sydney ran out to join them, laughing as he helped Abby send Ben into retreat. As he crouched down behind a bush, Abby couldn't help herself. She scooped up a handful of snow, and whilst Sydney was preoccupied with trying to spot where Ben had gone, she came up behind him and shoved the snow down the back of his shirt. He yelped in surprise and jumped up, looking incredulous at her that she would do such a thing, and then scooped up a handful of snow of his own.

"Right, now you've asked for it," he said with a look that sent her squealing and running away from him as fast as she could.

Of course, with the dress she was wearing, she couldn't get away fast enough and he soon caught up to her. She squealed again as she backed herself against a tree and raised her arms up to ward off the snow he was sure to throw at her. Instead, he reached over her arms and plopped the snowball right on top of her head.

"Sydney!" she yelped as the snow cascaded down her face and crept below the neckline of her dress.

He couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face and she grabbed the lapels of his coat to push him down, but it only caused her to slip herself. He grabbed hold of her to keep her from falling, but the momentum caused him to push her back against the tree, his body now pressed against hers. His laughter faded as his face was now inches from her own, and he watched with fascination as bits of snow slid slowly down her cheeks and over her lips where he suddenly wanted to taste that snow. He felt the warmth of her breath on his face and he was beginning to feel he was no longer in control of his own body.

"Syd…" she whispered, her lips parting, nearly driving him mad, until a massive snowball smashed into the back of his head.

"Ha! Ha! Gotcha!" Ben yelled with glee.

Abby groaned with frustration that her little brother had interrupted them yet again and she could only watch as Sydney left her to chase after the little assassin.

Sydney must have caught up to him quickly because she soon heard Ben screaming out, "Stop! I give up! You win!" Ben now had snow everywhere on him and his lips were starting to turn blue.

"Come on, Ben, let's get you inside and warmed up," Sydney said as he hauled the boy up to his feet and pulled him towards the house.

Ben laughed as he shook the snow off his head. "That was fun, Syd!"

"Yes, it was," Sydney agreed. He looked up at the sky to see the snow was now coming down faster and heavier and the temperature seemed to have dropped even more. He shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself and turned to see if Abby was following. She was several steps behind them and looked chilled to the bone. He ran back to her and put his arm around her shoulders, trying to keep her warm until they got inside.

"I'm sorry I got your head all wet," he said as he tried to suppress a smile.

"That's all right—I deserved it," she said as she leaned against him.

Dorcas took one look at Ben when they came inside and immediately sent him upstairs to take a hot bath. Abby followed him up, eager to change into some dry clothes.

Dorcas then turned to Sydney. "Sydney, I think you had better stay the night here tonight. I haven't seen snow like this in years and I don't want you out in it after dark."

"Oh, but, Ma, I don't think…"

"I insist, Sydney. Your room is all prepared for you. Besides, I like having you stay here with us over Christmas." She reached up and brushed the hair from his eyes and then patted his cheek. "I think we would all like for you to stay," she added, giving him a meaningful look.

Sydney nodded. "All right, Ma, I'll stay, but I haven't a change of clothes or anything with me."

"I'm sure Timothy has something you can wear, darling. In fact, I think he should find something for you now—you are soaked to the skin!"

"Well, all I need right now, really, is a dry shirt. A certain little miss put snow down my back."

Dorcas tried not to laugh. "Did she now? And what did you do in return?"

Sydney looked sheepish. "I, uh, dropped a snowball on her head."

Dorcas shook her head at him. "Well, that explains her wet hair." Then her eyes began to twinkle. "That reminds me of the snowball fights Timothy and I used to have when we were children."

"What are you reminded of, darling?" Timothy asked as he came into the room looking for her.

"I was just telling Sydney about how we used to throw snowballs at each other when we were children." She turned and gave Sydney a wink. "I used to win, of course."

"Oh, did you, now?" Timothy said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I seem to remember trapping a certain someone behind a rock until she begged for mercy."

Dorcas's face turned blasé. "I'm sure I don't remember any such thing ever happening, Timothy."

"Really? I remember it quite clearly, darling. Care for a little rematch?" He gave her a wicked grin as her eyes flashed at him.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Yes, I think perhaps it is time to remind you who the superior snowball thrower is!"

She then gave Sydney a wink, which made him laugh, before scampering out the door with Timothy at her heels.

The butler took Sydney upstairs to find a dry shirt for him to wear. By the time he came back downstairs Abby was also returning with a dry change of clothes and stopped at the foot of the stairs when she heard squealing coming from outside.

"Is that Ma I hear out there?" Abby asked with raised eyebrows.

Sydney laughed as he stood at the window. "Yes, Ma and Sir Timothy are having a little snow battle."

Abby joined him at the window in time to see Dorcas plaster the side of Timothy's head with a snowball and then watched as he chased her down until she squealed and laughed. Then Timothy caught Dorcas and shook the snow from his head onto her own, causing her to laugh even more whilst squirming to get away. Timothy held tight to her, though, and then suddenly pulled her to him, kissing her soundly and muting her laughter.

Sydney blushed to witness such an intimate scene and as he turned his gaze away he saw that Abby was watching him with a little smile on her face.

"It's nice to see two people still in love after so many years, isn't it?" she said. Her gaze was intense, causing a little ripple to run through his belly.

"Yes," Sydney said with a quiet nod of his head. "Yes, it is." He looked away from her, unable to hold her gaze as he remembered their near-kiss during their own battle in the snow, knowing it would be wrong to encourage her.

"Well," he said, making his voice as light as possible, "you should be sitting by the fire, young lady, and making sure your hair is dry before you catch a chill." He then steered her into the parlour where he made her sit next to the cheery fire that blazed before them. Then he occupied himself by staring at the Christmas tree.

"Sydney," Abby said after a moment.

"Hmmm?"

"Will Sophia be joining us for dinner tomorrow?"

She could see the muscles in his back tense, but he didn't turn around.

"No, she will not. The hotel is completely full so she has to work."

Abby felt a profound sense of relief to know she would have Sydney all to herself during Christmas, but she could tell that it bothered him. "Well, I think it's beastly of Mr Fielding to make her work over Christmas!" she said.

Sydney reached out and poked one of the ornaments, making it bob from side to side. "I don't think she minds, to tell you the truth."

Abby didn't think she minded, either. Sophia was probably all too happy to work alongside her Mr Fielding through every holiday of the year. She hoped Sydney was finally starting to realise what was going on at the hotel.

"I'm sorry, Syd," she said. "You must be disappointed."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was, but I'm not anymore."

Abby was about to ask him why when her parents came bustling through the door at that moment, laughing and shaking snow from their hair and coats.

"Well, that was quite invigorating!" Dorcas exclaimed. Her cheeks were rosy with exertion and there was laughter in her eyes.

"It certainly was, darling," Timothy said as he helped her remove her coat. "Perhaps a little too invigorating. I think you should go upstairs and have a little rest before dinner, don't you?"

Dorcas caught the twinkle in his eye and nodded. "Oh, yes, a nice little rest will be so….refreshing. I think you should have a little rest too, Timothy."

"I agree, wholeheartedly, darling. Lead the way!" They practically bolted up the stairs together causing Sydney to burst out laughing.

"What's so funny, Syd?" Abby asked.

Sydney continued to chuckle as he took in Abby's puzzled expression. "Nothing, Abbs…nothing at all."

Their Christmas Eve dinner was sumptuous and beautifully lit by candles all about the room and on the table. The manor did have gas lighting, but the family preferred candles at Christmastime, finding them cosier and more romantic as they accented the mysticism of this most sacred holiday.

Sydney tried to keep his gaze focused on his food and not on Abby who looked almost ethereal in the candlelight. She wore a dress of midnight blue and the light from the candle in front of her reflected in her eyes like twin flames and bounced radiantly from her sleek black hair whenever she turned her head. It was mesmerising. He realised he was in danger of falling in love with her, but then he remembered what Abby had said about her grandmother's determination to find her a prince to marry. He could only agree with the old woman that Abby did indeed deserve to marry a prince—a man who could give her a palace to live in and anything else her heart desired. He had no doubt that an offer of marriage would come from such a man during Abby's very first season. What man would be fool enough to resist her? He found himself suddenly feeling very inadequate and rather depressed. He knew he mustn't do anything to encourage her affections and stand in her way of an advantageous marriage. She deserved better than him.

He gave an audible sigh without realising it causing Abby to glance sharply at him. She assumed by the melancholy look on his face that he was depressed over Sophia and knew she would have to do something to keep his mind off of her. She caught his eye and smiled encouragingly at him. She now knew the perfect solution for keeping his mind otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening.

After dinner had ended they all retired to the parlour where they lit the candles on the tree and admired its beauty whilst drinking coffee and hot chocolate. Ben begged his parents to allow him one present to open that night, but they shook their heads and told him he would have to wait until Christmas morning. Abby stood by the fireplace, looking even more beautiful in its light, and Sydney had to turn away from her to quell the feelings that were growing inside of him. Instead, he went to the door and stuck his head outside to see if it was still snowing, which it was, and wondered briefly if they would be able to get to the church in the morning. He stepped further outside and breathed in the icy cold air, finding it bracing and helpful for clearing his mind. He then looked up and closed his eyes, allowing the feathery snowflakes to brush against his face like soft kisses.

It was silent and peaceful and wondrous to see the snow glowing bluish white in the darkness like St Elmo's fire. He wanted to stand there forever, or at least until the frigid air froze solid the little flame that was beginning to burn deep within his heart. How long he could continue keeping his distance from her he did not know. He only knew he would have to try in order for that flame not to grow any larger and consume them both. It would be selfish of him to do otherwise.

"Syd?" Her voice called out to him, making him grimace as the flame flared yet again, scorching a little piece of his heart.

"I'm here, Abby," he said with a sigh.

"Syd, are you all right?" She came and stood next him, linking her arm through his.

"I'm fine, Abbs."

"Are you thinking about Sophia?" she asked gently.

"No, I'm not thinking about her. I was just enjoying the beauty of this night."

Abby looked around and sighed. "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it? I wish it snowed like this more often."

Sydney nodded. "So do I."

They stood there several minutes longer, admiring the night together, until Abby gave a little shiver.

Sydney put his arm around her. "Let's go back inside—you're freezing!"

"No, I'm all right—please, just a few minutes longer."

He began to rub her arm as she leaned against him for warmth. Suddenly he didn't feel the cold anymore.

"Syd?"

"Hmmm?" He was trying to keep his gaze fixed on the woods across the way, but he could see her looking up at him out of the corner of his eye.

"You almost kissed me today, didn't you?"

His arm stopped moving and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. He was silent for a moment before she heard a soft "Yes."

"My dratted brother," she grumbled.

He held her away from him. "No, I was glad he stopped me because it would have been a mistake."

She tried hard to keep her voice steady and not look as hurt as she felt. "Why?"

He thought for a moment before answering, not wanting to push her away again and lose her altogether. "You're young, Abby…"

"Oh, don't start that again, Sydney," she protested.

"No, listen to me!" He cupped her cheek with his large, warm hand and she instinctively leaned into it. "You're young and you will soon be introduced to lots of new people—people with whom you will belong. Your grandmother wants you to marry a member of the peerage and have all that life has to offer a woman of your class. I want that for you, too, Abby."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Doesn't it matter what I want, Sydney? Don't I get a say in what makes me happy?"

"Of course it matters, but at your age you're still learning and figuring out what makes you happy. Look at me—I thought Sophia was what I wanted and now I…I don't. The younger we are the more our feelings can change with the wind."

He felt her warm tears reach his hand and it made him feel wretched. "Abby, what I want is for you to go out into the world for a bit and give yourself a chance to meet other men, to see what the world has to offer you. I don't want to be the person who stands in your way."

She didn't want to argue anymore with him on Christmas Eve. She couldn't stand for him to distance himself from her if she continued to push him. She would just have to find some way to convince him that he was what she wanted and that he was all she had ever wanted or would ever want.

For now she just nodded her head and wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "Well, I'm going back inside now. I'll leave you alone to enjoy the night."

"No," he said, feeling horrible for hurting her once again, "I'll go with you. I've been out in the cold long enough."

Before they reached the door he caught her hand in his and stopped her. "Please tell me we're still friends?"

He looked so worried that she couldn't help but smile at him. "Of course we're still friends, Siddy. You will always be my dearest friend in the whole world."

He smiled with relief as he squeezed her hand. "And you will always be mine," he said.

"So," she said, trying to keep her voice light, "what do you say to a friendly game of chess tonight, Syd? It's been years since we've played."

Sydney was about to agree, but then he remembered Timothy's intimately small table with the inlaid chess board and thought how closely they would have to sit together as they played. Their heads would practically be touching as they leaned over the board.

"I don't know, Abby, it is rather late to begin playing now. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Abby bit back her disappointment. "That's fine. After all, I wouldn't want to keep an old man like you up past his bedtime."

Sydney stopped in his tracks. "Who are you calling an old man?" he said indignantly.

Abby shrugged. "You are the one who is always harping on about how much older you are than me."

"Well, I am older than you!"

"Precisely, and I wouldn't want to tire you out. Would you like me to help you up the stairs or can you manage on your own without breaking a hip?"

He gave her a withering look. "Don't be silly, I'm not tired in the least. And I'm not old!"

Abby gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, if you're not tired then I can only assume you are afraid of losing again. After all, you've never been able to beat me before. That's fine, I'll just see if Papa will want to play instead."

Her provocation was working as she could see the annoyance growing in his face. He leaned towards her and said, "I'll have you know Harry and I play quite often and I have improved considerably since you and I last played. Perhaps I'm trying to spare you from losing for the first time. After all, it is Christmas Eve and one must be charitable."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that a challenge I hear, Dowland?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, it is, Midwinter! May the best man win!"

"Don't you mean old man?" she asked innocently and then squealed as he chased her inside to the parlour.

The chess pieces were set up quickly and Ben came and watched them play that first game whilst Timothy and Dorcas sat next to each other on the sofa and continued to admire the tree. The clock struck ten as Abby made her first move and then the game began in earnest. One of Abby's strengths was the ability to see ahead by several moves and after a few minutes she already knew she had won the game. She tried not to laugh at the look on Sydney's face when she called out 'checkmate'.

He frowned at the board, trying to see where he went wrong, and then gave her a determined look. "That was just a warm up. Let's go again."

They quickly replaced the pieces and this time Abby let Sydney go first. He played with more confidence this time and the game lasted a little longer than the first one. Timothy came and watched them play; smiling proudly each time Abby took one of Sydney's pieces. Soon Abby knew she had won again and almost felt guilty calling out 'checkmate'.

"But…how?" Sydney looked at the board with confusion and scratched his head.

Timothy patted him on the shoulder. "She is formidable, isn't she?"

Sydney nodded absently as he continued to study the board. "I think I know where I went wrong this time. Let's play one more game."

Timothy heard Dorcas yawn and he could see that Ben had already fallen asleep in his chair. "Well, I think it's time we got to bed," he said to his wife as he gently shook Ben awake and began to blow out the candles on the tree.

"Is it all right if we play a little longer, Papa?"

"Of course, darling," he said as he placed a kiss on top of her head. "Only go easy on the poor lad, won't you?" He gave Sydney a wink.

Sydney rolled his eyes. "I may beat her yet, Sir Timothy!"

Timothy laughed as he put his arm around Dorcas. "Well, I wish you luck with that. Good night, you two. Don't stay up too late now."

"Good night, Papa. Good night, Ma," Abby said.

"Good night," Sydney called out as they walked up the stairs.

Then he turned back to the board with new determination. "Right, it's your move."

The fire had begun to dim in the fireplace so Sydney got up to add more wood to it. "Don't cheat now," he teased as he bent over the fireplace.

"As if I would need to cheat to win!" Abby said with disgust, making Sydney chuckle.

Despite the warmth from the now blazing fire, Abby felt a little shiver run through her. To be left alone with Sydney like this was exactly what she had hoped for. She would have to do her best to prolong this last game so the night wouldn't come to an end too soon.

She watched as he sat back down and began to roll up his sleeves, exposing muscular forearms that were lightly covered with dark brown hair. She had to resist the urge to reach out and run her hands up those bared arms. And then, as the room became even warmer from the fire, he opened the collar of his shirt, revealing the hint of even more dark brown hair at the top of his chest. Abby's heart began to beat faster and it was all she could do not to stare at him. She forced her gaze back to the board and stared at the pieces, trying desperately to stop imagining what he looked like with no shirt at all. Luckily, he was too busy staring at the board himself to notice her flushed cheeks. She was so distracted that she failed to notice that one of her knights was in danger until it was too late. Then, just as she thought she had recovered her position, he swooped in and took one of her bishops.

"See? I told you I've improved my game!" he said triumphantly. "I may just beat you yet!"

"Hmmph, you have a long way to go before you can beat me, Dowland," she sniffed.

Sydney raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, really? Care to make a little wager on that, Midwinter?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're on!"

Sydney smiled smugly at her. "So what will I get when I win?"

"You're not going to win."

"Come on, what are we betting?"

She thought for a moment. "Why don't we have the winner decide what the loser has to do at the end of the game? It will make it more suspenseful that way."

He nodded his head. "All right, I'm sure I'll have come up with a good forfeit for you by the time I win."

She made a face at him before they turned their attention back to the board.

Abby couldn't help but steal glances at him as he bent over the board in concentration. His head was so close to hers that if he were to look up she could easily kiss him. Such thoughts cost her another pawn.

She was unaware that he was also stealing glances at her whilst she studied the pieces. He felt himself weakening every time he looked at her, and more than once he had to stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through the soft, shiny hair that had tumbled down around her shoulders. The thought of touching her made the room feel even hotter and he absently unbuttoned his vest to cool off. The movement caught Abby's eye and as she took in the now open vest she saw something sticking out of its pocket.

"Syd, what is that?"

"Hmmm?" He followed her gaze and felt his face redden as he saw the mistletoe peeking out of his pocket. He pulled it out and handed it to her. "It's just a piece of mistletoe. A little girl was trying to earn a few pennies by selling it in town. I could hardly refuse her. I-I forgot it was there."

Abby twirled the sprig with her fingers, but to his relief made no request for him to use it. She did stare unwaveringly at him, though, for a long moment, and he could have sworn he saw the corners of her mouth twitch before saying, "I believe it's your move."

He gave a feeble laugh before returning to the board. He had a renewed urgency to win the game now as he suddenly realised what she would make him do if he lost.

His former bravado began to waver as she was now moving her pieces with purpose; swiftly and confidently and with no show of mercy. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow at her first check and he could feel her gaze upon him as she sent his remaining pieces further into retreat. Finally, he could run no more and his king was left unprotected. His shoulders slumped as he reached out and toppled his king with his finger in a show of defeat.

"I won," Abby said quietly.

"I know," he sighed. "So what is my forfeit?"

She stood up from the board and walked over to the fireplace where she stood staring into its flames whilst she continued to twirl the mistletoe between her fingers. Then she slowly turned to face him. "I think you already know what your forfeit is."

Her eyes glittered at him in the firelight, but there was no hint of teasing in them. If anything she looked dead serious.

Sydney stood up and reluctantly walked over to her. "Abby, I don't think this is a good idea."

"A bet is a bet, Sydney. Your forfeit is to kiss me under this piece of mistletoe and a gentleman doesn't welsh on a bet. You are a gentleman, aren't you, Syd?"

Her eyes flashed wickedly at him causing his heart to skip a few beats. He remained silent as he battled with himself.

"It's just one little kiss, Sydney," she continued. "This time next year I may be married to that prince you are so desperate for me to find, so this may be my very last chance to kiss you under the mistletoe."

The thought of her being married to another man by the following Christmas sent a pain through his heart. She was right—this may be the last chance he would ever have to feel her lips against his again.

"Fine," he said quietly as he took the traitorous little piece of greenery from her hand. He hesitated a moment, trying to convince himself it would be nothing more than a quick peck on the lips, as if he were greeting an old friend or an elderly aunt. One little kiss and his debt would be paid in full.

Abby felt her insides begin to quiver as he held the mistletoe over her head. She thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, causing the same electric shock to run through her body as it did on Mischief Night. Sydney must have felt it, too, for he pulled back quickly as if stung. But he didn't move far—he seemed to be held there in place as though caught by a strange magnetic force. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers—eyes that were filled with love and hope and dreams—despite his brain screaming at him to do so.

One corner of her mouth turned up slightly as she looked up at him. "Surely you can do better than that?" she said as her hands slid up his chest.

Suddenly, he found his hand behind her head as he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against her own. The force caused her to stumble back until her back was against the wall, his body now pressed to hers as her arms slid up around his neck, pulling him even more tightly to her. Their bodies molded together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle and his desire for her became so intense it made him gasp. He made a feeble effort to pull away from her, but she held tight to him, guiding his mouth back to hers and moving against him in such a way that it caused him to lose all sense of thought and reason. All his senses were overwhelmed with her—from the clean, flowery scent of her skin to the velvety touch of her lips and tongue that once again sent his body thrumming and aching with a need so great he nearly cried out.

"No!" he gasped as he finally tore his mouth away from hers and pushed himself away. "No, we can't…I can't do this to you. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He stumbled back, shaking his head and holding his hand up to keep her from coming any closer.

"Sydney…" She took a step closer to him, but he retreated even further.

"Don't…please," he said hoarsely, knowing that if she touched him again he would lose all control. He took a few more steps back. "I'm so sorry, Abby," he said again before turning and running up the stairs, leaving her alone in the dying firelight.

She could no longer trust her legs to hold her up so she collapsed in one of the chairs at the chess table and tried to catch her breath. Her lips still tingled from his touch and joy filled her heart as she replayed every moment of their embrace in her mind. There was no mistaking his passion for her now. What had happened just moments before proved he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. He could no longer deny it.

She began to smile as she stared at his toppled king lying there on the chessboard, knowing she had won more than just the game. Her gaze turned back to the staircase where he had disappeared and her voice called out softly, "Checkmate!"

---

Dorcas was dressed and downstairs even before the servants arose. She wanted to bring in all the presents and place them under the Christmas tree before Ben, Abby and Sydney came downstairs. She also wanted a quiet moment to herself to take in Christmas morning and to go over the coming day in her mind. She smiled when she saw that Sydney had already arranged his gifts to them under the tree. After she finished playing Father Christmas, she went over to the fireplace and started a nice blaze. Whilst she stood there coaxing the flames to life a small object on the floor next to the fireplace caught her eye. As she bent down to take a closer look she saw it was a rather crumpled piece of mistletoe. Knowing Sydney and Abby were the last two people in the room it had to have been left by them, and she wondered what exactly had taken place between them after she and Timothy had gone to bed.

As Dorcas stood up she glanced over at the chess table and could see it had been left in disarray—the chairs were still pushed out from the table and the pieces left as they were at the end of the game. She saw Sydney's king toppled over and knew that he had lost the final game. What else had been lost last night, she wondered as she stared at the mistletoe in her hand. She placed the little sprig in her pocket and set to work putting the chess pieces away and placing the chairs back in their proper places. Then she walked over to the window and stared out into the predawn world whilst she meditated on her children.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps making their way down the stairs. It was Sydney and he looked startled when he saw her standing there.

"Ma, I didn't think anyone would be up yet," he said. He looked terrible. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink and he was still wearing last night's clothes despite her having put one of Timothy's suits in his room for him to wear before she went to bed.

"Sydney, why are you up so early?" Dorcas asked.

One corner of his mouth turned up. "I could ask you the same thing, Ma."

When his mother failed to look amused he sighed and looked away from her. "I was just leaving for home."

"But, Sydney, it's Christmas morning—why are you leaving? Were you really going to just sneak away and not tell us?"

Sydney's hand went up to his forehead as he searched for what to say. "I was going to leave you a note. I will meet you all at the church later, I promise. I just need to…to go home and…check on things. I want to be able to change into my own clothes." He knew his excuse was flimsy, but he hadn't expected to encounter his mother before he left.

Dorcas studied him for a moment and then walked up to him. "Does your leaving have anything to do with this, Sydney?" She reached into her pocket and brought out the mistletoe, holding it up for him to see.

He took it from her hand as he stared at her in disbelief. "How did you…?"

"I found it on the floor next to the fireplace. Did something happen between you and Abigail last night? Is that why you are running away?"

Sydney groaned and ran his hand over his face and then nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, Sydney," Dorcas shook her head. "Tell me what happened."

"I'm sorry, Ma, I really don't want to talk about it. Let's just say I lost a bet and we'll leave it at that." He then strode into the foyer and quickly put his coat and gloves on.

"Sydney Dowland, you come back here right now and tell me what happened last night." Dorcas's eyes blazed at him and her mouth was set in a firm line.

He swallowed hard as he rarely saw her so angry. "It was a kiss, Ma, just a kiss, nothing more."

"If it was 'nothing more,' as you say, then why do you feel the need to run away?"

"I'm not running away! I just need…I just need time to think away from here…away from her."

Dorcas could see how agitated he was feeling and her gaze softened. "Have you fallen in love with Abby, Sydney? Is that what this is all about?"

He grimaced as he looked away from his mother's perceptive eyes and then nodded his head miserably. "Yes, I love her. I've tried so hard not to let myself fall in love with her, but she makes it impossible!"

Dorcas reached out and touched his cheek. "Did you tell her how you feel?"

"No!" he said vehemently. "And I'm not going to—nor are you to tell her, Ma."

"Sydney, why not? Why are you holding back from her?"

"Because I want her to have the chance at the life she was born to live—one of riches and the best of society. A chance to have a husband of proper birth, a man with a title and property and a huge mansion filled with servants who would wait on her hand and foot. Not stuck away in a tiny Post Office with a man who didn't even know who his own father was until he was ten years old."

"Sydney," Dorcas held his face in her hands, "I've told you before that you are wrong to think this way. Abby has never been interested in such grandeurs. She's only ever wanted you. She would have a wonderful life with you because she loves you, and you would be the most loving and attentive husband a girl could ever want."

"Perhaps, but I want her to have the chance to find out what else life has to offer her. Don't you see? Letting her grandmother introduce her to society is exactly what she needs to do. I don't want to stand in the way of that. Let her live in that world for awhile, be exposed to other men, and then we'll see what it is she really wants. I couldn't live with myself if I denied her this opportunity."

Dorcas felt tears stinging her eyes. "You are such a good man, Sydney. I am so proud of you for putting her needs first and letting her go like this. But, darling, Abby already knows what she wants. Her grandmother can introduce her to every eligible man in the world and Abby would still come to the same conclusion: she wants you."

Sydney took her hands and kissed them. "Yes, but she must have this chance to find out for sure—for her sake as well as mine. In the meantime, she mustn't know I am in love with her. Please, Ma."

Dorcas nodded, looking sad. "All right, Sydney. You must do what you think is right."

Sydney kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Ma, and Happy Christmas. I'll see you at the church."

"Happy Christmas, darling. Will you come back with us for presents and dinner afterward?" she asked plaintively as he opened door.

Sydney nodded. "Of course I will. I just need a little time to myself to, as Minnie would say, 'gird my loins'." He gave her a rueful grin and went out the door.

The snow was deep enough that it took some time for Sydney's horse to pull his carriage through to town. He was relieved when he finally made it home and to the solitude of his Post Office, but he did regret missing the lavish family breakfast back at the manor. His stomach began to grumble its displeasure, and with his housekeeper away visiting her own family for the holiday, he was on his own for cooking. He set about lighting the stove and heating up some strong coffee before frying a few eggs along with some bacon for his breakfast. Once he had eaten he drew a hot bath and then tossed his clothes aside as he undressed. As he did so, the piece of mistletoe he had recovered from his mother fell to the floor from one of his pockets and he bent to pick it up. How such a tiny piece of greenery could cause so much trouble he did not know, but all his efforts to keep things platonic between him and Abby had been wasted because of it or, to be honest, his own weakness.

He groaned as he replayed their kiss in his mind, remembering how it had excited him and how his hands had trembled with unfulfilled desire as he stood in his room with his back to the door, praying she wouldn't follow him. He had even turned the key in the lock just in case knowing if she did come to him in the night he would not have the strength to turn her away. Then he sat up the rest of the night, unable to sleep, knowing things had now been set in motion that he no longer had any control over.

After he had bathed and shaved the stubble from his face, he was glad to see he still had a few hours left until he had to be at the church. He crawled into his bed and closed his eyes, hoping that when he awakened he would have some clarity of mind on what to do about the situation.

Abby hadn't slept a wink, either, and came downstairs with dark circles under her eyes and fearing that Sydney would be avoiding her. She was sure the way he had run from her after their kiss that he was going to put some distance between them, and she knew she would have to somehow put his mind at ease to keep that from happening.

"Happy Christmas, darling," Dorcas greeted her as she made her way into the dining room.

"Happy Christmas, Ma," Abby said, trying to smile.

Dorcas noticed the circles under her eyes and said carefully, "You look tired, dear. Didn't you sleep well last night?"

Abby shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. The excitement of Christmas and all…" Her voice trailed off and before anything more could be said her father entered the room.

"Happy Christmas, my darlings," Timothy said as he kissed Abby on the cheek and Dorcas on the lips, making her smile.

Ben soon followed, looking excited. "Mother, can we open presents before church this time?"

Dorcas placed her hand on top of her son's head. "Absolutely not, Benjamin. Besides, Sydney won't be here with us until after church so presents will have to wait. Now sit down and have your breakfast."

Abby looked quickly at her mother. "Sydney's not having breakfast with us?"

Dorcas glanced over at Timothy before choosing her words carefully. "No, Abby, Sydney wanted to go home to check on the Post Office and to get a fresh change of clothes. He said he would meet us at the church later."

"Oh," Abby said with disappointment. She knew the real reason he didn't want to stay for breakfast—it was so he could avoid her. She slumped in her chair and suddenly had no appetite.

Dorcas placed her hand over Abby's. "He's coming back to open gifts with us and will be staying for dinner," she said reassuringly.

Abby didn't feel reassured. If anything, she felt guilty for ruining Christmas for him. He was missing a lovely breakfast because of her. She would have to find some way to make it up to him.

As soon as breakfast had ended it was time to leave for the church service and Abby felt her stomach fluttering at the thought of facing Sydney again. She couldn't bear it if he was to treat her with indifference after the passionate kiss they had shared the night before. Would it be indifference or would it be anger?

She was relieved to see Annie with her family in the churchyard so she hurried over to her to wish her a happy Christmas.

"Abby! Happy Christmas!" Annie exclaimed as she gave her friend a hug. Then she whispered in her ear, "So, did you get Sydney under the mistletoe yet?"

Abby withdrew from Annie's embrace and Annie could see that something was wrong. "What is it? Where is Sydney, anyway?"

"Oh, Annie, I can't tell you now, but I think I pushed Sydney too far this time." Abby looked so dejected that Annie gave her another hug.

"Don't be silly, Abby, nothing you could do would push Sydney away from you."

"But he left before dawn and didn't even stay for breakfast with us."

Annie frowned. "Oh, I see. Well, I'm sure he'll be here soon. He probably just had something to do at home first. What happened, Abby, to make you so worried?"

Everyone began filing into the church at that moment so Abby could only tell Annie she would talk to her later. She rejoined her family and by the time they had found their seats there was still no sign of Sydney.

Sydney woke up with a start and quickly looked over at the clock. He sprang out of bed when he saw that he was already late for church. He dressed as quickly as he could, dragged a comb through his hair and then ran for his horse. By the time he reached the church the doors were already closed and he knew all eyes would be upon him when he walked in late. He took a deep breath and opened the door as quietly as he could. Luckily, the congregation was standing and in the middle of singing a hymn so he slipped in relatively unnoticed. He quickly spotted his family and felt his belly clench when he saw Abby standing between his mother and Ben in one of the pews. Taking another deep breath he slipped in beside Ben, giving his mother an apologetic look for being late. His glance then fell on Abby's profile as she sang, completely unaware that he had arrived. She looked almost angelic in her Christmas gown and singing most earnestly in her beautiful, clear voice. It brought a smile to his face.

Finally feeling his gaze upon her, Abby turned and her eyes widened when she saw him looking at her. He smiled tentatively at her and then looked down at Ben's hymn book so he could join in the song.

Abby felt a rush of relief to see him there and his smile helped assuage her fears. Maybe she hadn't ruined Christmas after all.

As soon as the service ended and everyone had exited the church, Timothy found Queenie and handed her a little gift. "Happy Christmas, Queenie."

"Oh, Sir Timothy, thank you, but I didn't expect a present from you," Queenie said looking surprised.

"Nonsense," Timothy said with a wave of his hand. "It's Christmas and I wanted you to have this."

Queenie opened the gift and her hand flew to her heart when she saw the ruby and diamond necklace that lay inside. She looked up at Timothy with disbelief. "I…I couldn't possibly accept such a treasure!" she gasped.

"Yes, you can and you will," Timothy said firmly. "I found this necklace tucked away amongst the family jewels, and as it turned out, it once belonged to your great grandmother, Lady Adrianna. I think it only fitting that it should now belong to you."

Queenie looked down at it as if she were holding the crown jewels themselves in her hand. "But it's so grand! Way too grand for a simple old woman like me."

Timothy scoffed as he took the necklace and stood behind her whilst he placed it around her neck. "Queenie, there has never been anything simple about you, and you are every bit as grand a lady as any I have ever known. This necklace belongs to you and I won't hear another word about it."

Queenie's cheeks had gone pink and she suddenly had tears in her eyes as she fingered the necklace around her neck. "Thank you, Sir Timothy. It is a treasure indeed."

"You are very welcome, Queenie. I trust Minnie got the Christmas goose I sent over yesterday?"

"Oh, yes, that goose has been cooking all morning! That was most kind of you."

Timothy gave a modest nod of his head. "Well, Benjamin is growing impatient to open his gifts so I had best get everyone home. Happy Christmas, Cousin Queenie," he said as he tipped his hat to her.

"Happy Christmas, Cousin Timothy! And thank you again!"

Sydney had followed Abby out of the church and placed his hand at the small of her back to steer her towards a more private spot. Then he turned to face her.

"Abby, I want to apologise for what happened last night," he began.

Abby interrupted him. "No, Syd. I am the one who should be apologising to you. I'm sorry I forced you into kissing me when I knew you didn't want to."

Sydney shook his head and looked down at his hands. "No, Abby, I am the adult here and I should have put a stop to it right then and there. I was weak when I should have been strong and it was very wrong of me to have kissed you like that. Even worse, I just left you standing there. I ran off like a coward. You didn't deserve that and I am truly sorry."

Abby realised that whatever she was to say next could forever change their relationship. It was enough for her to have felt the undeniable passion in his kiss, even if he wasn't yet ready to admit it to her. He probably hadn't even admitted it to himself. Her best course of action would be to practise patience and ease his mind.

"I am not a child, Sydney. I knew exactly what I was doing so don't go taking all the blame."

He still looked tortured so she placed her hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes with a reassuring smile. "Sydney, it was Christmas Eve, there was mistletoe—and you lost a bet! It was just a kiss according to mistletoe tradition and you were settling a debt at the same time. It's over and done with and I promise never to put you in that position ever again."

"But…" he began to protest.

"No buts," she said. "Look, I only have another week until I have to go back to London. Let's not say another word about it, all right? It's Christmas and I want to enjoy it and what little time I have left here in Candleford. I don't want things to be awkward between us."

He reached out and stroked her cheek. "You really have grown up, haven't you? All right, we will just put this behind us and say no more about it."

She smiled at him and linked her arm through his as they walked back to where her parents and Ben were waiting.

Dorcas was relieved to see Abby and Sydney looking at ease with one another again. "Shall we go home and open presents now?" she said to her little family.

"Yes, presents!" Ben said excitedly.

Timothy laughed and put his arm around his son's shoulders. "Come on then, let's go home."

Ben's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the shrunken head that Abby had given to him for Christmas. "Oh, Abby, this is the best Christmas present ever!" he exclaimed as he held it up, causing his mother to back away with a horrified look.

"I thought you would like it, you little ghoul," Abby laughed.

Dorcas wrinkled her nose. "Where on earth did you find such a ghastly thing, Abby?"

"I found it in this funny little shop in London," Abby replied. "When I saw it I knew it was perfect for Ben. It rather looks like him, too, doesn't it?"

"Hey!" Ben frowned, causing everyone to laugh.

Then Abby handed Sydney his gift. "Happy Christmas, Siddy."

"Hmmm…what can it be?" Sydney held the gift up to his ear and shook it a bit.

"Just open it, Syd!" Abby said.

He finally tore off the decorative paper and opened the box. "Oh, Abby, it's beautiful!" he exclaimed when he saw the inlaid wooden chess board and the handsomely carved chess pieces. He held one of the knights up as he studied it. "This is even nicer than Harry's chess set! He is going to be so envious! Thank you, Abbs." He walked over to her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"You're welcome, Syd. Now you can practise whilst I'm away in London. Maybe by the time I return you will be able to win a game!" She gave him a teasing look as he made a face at her.

Then he gave her a gift. "Happy Christmas to you, too, Abby."

Her eyes shone as she took the little box in her hand and quickly untied its bow. Then she gasped when she saw what was inside. It was a delicate gold bracelet with little diamond chips set all around which sparkled in the light. "Oh, Sydney, it's beautiful!" She held it up so her parents could admire it.

Dorcas raised her eyebrows and looked over at Sydney knowing that this was no trinket given lightly, but Sydney's gaze was focused on Abby. He looked so very pleased by Abby's reaction.

Abby then ran over to him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Sydney, I love it!"

Sydney took the bracelet from her hand. "Here, let me help you."

She held her arm out to him as he fastened the bracelet around her tiny wrist and their eyes met as she stood before him. But she managed to tear her gaze away after a moment, afraid of making him feel uncomfortable again.

"I feel like a princess!" she said happily as she admired the way the bracelet sparkled on her wrist.

Sydney's smile dimmed a bit as he imagined she may just end up being someone's princess soon if her grandmother had her way about it.

"I'm glad you like it," he said softly.

The rest of Christmas Day passed by quickly and after filling himself fit to bursting with Christmas dinner, it was time for Sydney to get back to the Post Office. After saying his goodbyes to everyone, Abby walked outside with him.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, Syd," she said as he mounted his horse.

"Thanks, Abby, it will be wonderful to have your help tomorrow for it is sure to be a busy day. And thank you for the chess set. We shall have to break it in before you leave."

Abby smiled. "I would like that. And thank you again for the beautiful bracelet."

"You're welcome. I hope when you are an old married woman living in a castle far away you will wear it one day and remember me."

"I won't be living in a castle, Syd, and I could never, ever forget you."

He gave her a sad smile. "I hope not. Well, good night, Abbs."

"Good night, Siddy."

She watched him ride off towards town before going back inside again. She kissed her parents good night and made her way up to her room where she sat up for a long time, staring at the elegant bracelet that Sydney had placed on her wrist and suddenly wondering what had happened to the little piece of mistletoe he had held over head the night before.

Chapter 11

Abby spent a very happy week after Christmas working alongside Sydney at the Post Office. She made the most of every moment knowing she would be going away soon. True to her word, she did not bring up their kiss again, nor did she press her feelings upon him. And Sydney, for his part, returned to treating her like a little sister, despite the inner turmoil that existed within him. It wasn't easy keeping her at arm's length.

There were times when Abby was busy with a customer, or transcribing a telegram when she would feel his eyes upon her, but when she turned her head he had already looked away or was pretending to be busy with something else. She remembered her mother's words about 'the ball being in Sydney's court now' and decided she would let the undeniable passion of their kiss stew within him, until he was ready to accept his feelings and admit them to her. Perhaps this upcoming long separation would be what was needed for him to discover how he felt about her. She hoped so, anyway. At least by the time she returned after the season ended she would be seventeen years old and officially of marriageable age. Then he would have no more excuses.

One afternoon, when they were leaning side by side against the Post Office counter with nothing to do, Sydney asked, "So, are you looking forward to being presented to King George and Queen Mary this spring?"

"No!" she exclaimed.

Sydney looked at her with surprise. "What do you mean no? Most people would give anything for the opportunity to meet them."

"I know, but…" She looked down at the counter and fidgeted with the stamp book, avoiding his eyes.

"But what, Abbs? You're not scared, are you?"

She shook her head. "No. Well, maybe a little."

"There is nothing to be scared of, Abby. It's not like they're going to throw you into the dungeons or anything."

"Yes, but what if I trip and fall right as I am walking up to them?" She looked at him with worried eyes.

"You won't," he said reassuringly.

"How do you know? Grandmother told me such horror stories of girls getting sick right in front of the King and Queen. One girl even fainted!"

Sydney shook his head at her, looking bemused. "You are not going to trip, or get sick, or faint. Besides, even if you do, I'm sure it will provide a nice diversion from the usual monotony of perfect curtsies for Their Royal Highnesses."

Abby looked dubious. "Grandmother would be furious and I would become the laughingstock amongst her peers. No prince would want to marry me then."

Sydney placed his hands on her shoulders. "Now, Abby, what really do you have to lose? Even if the worst happens, which it won't, you can come right back home where there are people here who love you no matter how clumsy you are. And if a prince won't have you then I'm sure Farmer Ted is still looking for a wife."

"Farmer Ted!" Abby's eyes suddenly blazed at him as she slapped him hard on the shoulder.

"Ow!" He began to laugh as she continued to pummel him until he caught her wrists and held her tight. "Now stop worrying and just enjoy this rare opportunity. And remember, you have nothing to lose."

"Just my dignity," she said woefully.

Sydney nodded gravely. "Yes, but you will always have Farmer Ted."

Abby suddenly wrenched her hands away from his and began pummeling him again until he ran laughing away from her to the other side of the counter.

"Think about it, Abby," he said, trying to stay out of reach of her hands. "When was the last time you ever tripped?"

She stopped and thought about it for a moment. "I don't remember. I must have been a little girl."

Sydney suddenly smiled. "I remember you falling only once, and it changed my life."

"How on earth did my falling change your life?"

"Well, you were a very little girl and my father had come to take me away to live with him in Manchester. I didn't want to leave Ma, or the Post Office…or you…so I was very upset and no one could talk my father into letting me stay. As we were driving away in the carriage you, Abby, came running after us, screaming my name until you tripped and fell. It was you running after me like that that made my father realise I belonged here and he finally let me stay."

Abby stared at him for a long moment until she said with a little shake of her head, "I don't remember that."

"Well, I will never forget it. You couldn't have been more than three years old at the time and your poor little knees were all scraped up after you fell. But if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't be here right now, nor would I have this wonderful life here at the Post Office. I owe all of this to you, my little friend."

He smiled at her then, his special dimpled smile that always made her go weak in the knees, and she felt her cheeks blushing. Then she gave him a pert little smile of her own. "Well, perhaps you will be able to pay me back someday."

"With pleasure, how so?" he asked, but at that moment a customer came in the door, interrupting their conversation. Sydney hurried back behind the counter and was all business once again.

Abby stood aside and watched him as she answered him in her mind. "Perhaps I will need you to run after me one day so I can stay here, too."

---

As Abby's final week in Candleford was coming to a close, Sydney had an idea which he presented to Timothy.

"Sir Timothy, do you think your little lake is sufficiently frozen over for ice skating?" Sydney asked.

Timothy thought for a moment. "Hmmm…it should be. We have been exceedingly cold this past month, but I will go down there today and make sure. What do you have in mind, son?"

Sydney smiled. "I thought it would be nice to gather our friends together on New Year's Day and give Abby a little going away party. You know how much she used to love ice skating. I thought we could make a day of it."

Timothy clasped Sydney's shoulder. "I think that is a fine idea. Afterward, we can come back to the manor for a special tea."

"That would be perfect! Thank you, Sir Timothy. As soon as you let me know about the quality of the ice I will put the word out."

Timothy and his steward ventured down to the lake and pronounced the ice thick enough for skating. Then they set about hiring some men to clear the ice of twigs and other debris to make for a nice smooth surface.

Sydney invited Harry and Annie first, of course, and they thought a skating party was perfect. Annie said she would spread the word to Minnie and Alf and their family as well as her parents.

Then he invited Thomas and Margaret and their two children. Thomas seemed rather dubious about skating, but Margaret was thrilled. She clasped her hands to her heart rapturously. "Oh, Sydney, what a lovely idea! I adore skating!"

"You do?" Thomas looked at her with surprise.

"Oh, yes, my brother and I used to skate all winter. But it's been so long I do hope I remember how!"

Sydney smiled at her. "I am sure you will do just fine, Mrs Brown—especially if you skate as well as you play cricket! Sir Timothy said he will have extra pairs of skates for anyone who might need them."

"How wonderful! Of course we will be there. Thank you for inviting us, Sydney."

"My pleasure, Mrs Brown."

Then Sydney headed over to Doctor Armstrong's practise and invited him and Laura and their three boys.

"What a fun idea, Sydney! Of course we will be there for Abby. I'm sure the boys will enjoy skating, too," Laura said.

"And I will bring plenty of splints and wraps in case anyone should sprain an ankle, or worse, on the ice," Richard said with a laugh.

"That is a very good idea, doctor," Sydney said. "I have no doubt I will be the first one needing a splint!" Sydney had never really mastered the art of ice skating.

The last people Sydney invited were Pearl and Ruby Pratt. He hesitated at first, but then remembered how hurt they always were when excluded from any festivities. With a sigh he went into their shop and extended an invitation.

"A skating party at the manor?" Pearl lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Well, yes, for Abby. She loves to skate. Afterward, Sir Timothy and my ma will be hosting a nice tea for everyone. I hope you will be able to join us."

"How kind," Pearl said, looking over at Ruby who nodded her head, "we wouldn't miss it."

"Excellent. Good day, ladies!" Sydney hurried out the door.

"An ice skating party," Pearl sniffed. "How terribly gauche."

"Terribly," Ruby echoed.

They both stared at the door for a moment after Sydney left.

"We must still have our skates somewhere…" Pearl said, suddenly looking thoughtful.

Ruby nodded and her eyes began to shine. "I'll go find them."

Abby was thrilled that Sydney had organised a skating party in her honour. She had been dreading her last day in Candleford, but now she had something to look forward to.

On New Year's Eve she finished her last day at the Post Office and sadly put the closed sign on the door. She stood facing the door for a few moments longer so Sydney wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Are you all right, Abby?" Sydney asked from behind the counter as he began counting the money he had taken in for the day.

She took a deep breath then turned to face him. "Yes, Syd, I'm fine. It's just that this was my last day here at the Post Office…"

Sydney nodded, looking just as glum as she felt. "I know. I am really going to miss you here, Abbs."

"And I am going to miss being here," she sighed.

He held an arm out to her. "Come here," he said.

She went to him and he gathered her in his arms for a hug. "Just remember, if things don't work out in London and you are unhappy there you can always come home. Candleford isn't going anywhere."

"I know," she said softly as she savoured the feeling of being in his arms and breathing in the clean, manly scent of him. "I'm just going to miss you so much—and Papa, and Ma, and Annie, and Harry…."

"And we will all miss you, too, you know that," he said, placing a kiss on top of her head. "But we still have the bonfire tonight and the skating party tomorrow."

Abby smiled. "Yes, I am really looking forward to both!"

The town had organised a special New Year's Eve bonfire in a clearing away from all the buildings and Timothy had hired a team of fireworks specialists to provide a show as the clock struck midnight. Everyone from Candleford and Lark Rise would be attending.

Abby hurried home to change her clothes and help her ma prepare hampers of food to bring to the bonfire since they would be there for several hours. Finally, they all piled into the carriage and made their way to the clearing where people were already milling about and setting up tables for the food. Alf and his friends were providing the music and people were already dancing about whilst children careened around laughing and chasing each other as children always do. Queenie sat watching the musicians, looking rather sad as she remembered how her Twister used to love joining in with his banjo. Seeing the look on her face, Alf put his melodeon down whilst encouraging his friends to continue playing, and pulled her into a dance with him. Soon she was laughing and gay once more.

The men lit the bonfire early since it was such a cold night and made sure they had plenty of wood to last to the end. Dorcas stood with her arm through Timothy's as they warmed themselves by the fire. Soon they were joined by Emma and Robert Timmins.

"Happy New Year, Cousin Dorcas, Sir Timothy," Emma said as she gave her cousin a hug.

"Happy New Year to you, too, Cousin Emma and Robert," Dorcas replied. "How are things in Lark Rise? I hope you had a nice Christmas?"

"Oh, yes, thank you. The house has been too quiet with only Annie at home now so it was a special treat to have all our children and grandchildren together again."

Dorcas smiled. "It sounds lovely."

Robert chuckled. "You know, we used to long for a bigger house when the children were at home, but now we rattle around with more space than we know what to do with. It was nice being crammed to the rafters once more over Christmas. Felt normal again."

Everyone laughed and then Robert took Emma away for a dance.

Timothy looked at Dorcas. "Shall we?" he asked as he held his hand out to her.

She rewarded him with a smile. "I would love to, Timothy!"

The music became livelier as everyone joined in the dancing. Abby watched wistfully as Annie and Harry danced and laughed together. She wished she had someone to dance with, too. She looked around for Sydney, but he was busy chatting with Laura. Then she was shocked to see Sophia arrive with Mr Fielding and a few of the other hotel employees. She noticed Sydney look over at Sophia briefly, but then he turned away again and continued his conversation. Sophia noticed him, too, and then whispered something to Mr Fielding after which they both left. Abby was relieved to see that Sydney didn't seem to care whether Sophia was there or not. He must have meant it on Christmas Eve when he said that Sophia wasn't what he wanted anymore. She began to wonder just exactly what it was that Sydney did want.

Abby continued to stare at Sydney's back whilst he spoke to Laura until Laura noticed her looking at them. Abby saw Laura smile and say something to Sydney who turned around and looked at her. Laura then gave him a little shove and he finally walked over to her.

"I was told a certain young lady was in want of a dancing partner," he said with a little twinkle in his eye. "That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

Abby pretended to think for a moment. "Oh, no, it couldn't have been me. I loathe dancing."

"Liar," he said as he held out his hand. "May I have this dance, Miss Midwinter?"

Abby beamed at him. "Why Mr Dowland, I thought you would never ask!"

They joined in with the others as they danced and swirled to the music. At one point Abby tilted her head back and laughed with joy as he twirled her about, and suddenly Sydney wished with all his heart that Abby wasn't the daughter of a Squire and destined to marry someone far grander than he was. All he wanted to do at that moment was whisk her away into the shadows and kiss her senseless. But he reminded himself that he had no right to her and could only be her friend. It was the bitterest pill he ever had to swallow.

They continued to dance around the bonfire until hunger brought them to the tables filled with food and drink. Midnight was now fast approaching and everyone waited with anticipation for the fireworks to begin. The musicians continued to play until Timothy looked at his pocket watch and shouted out, "Thirty seconds until midnight!"

Abby saw Harry pull Annie into a shadowy place and smiled knowing he was going to kiss her at the stroke of midnight. She herself stepped away from the crowd, not wanting to watch every couple share a kiss, knowing Sydney would never try to kiss her again after what happened on Christmas Eve. All she had to do was get through the next thirty seconds and it would be over.

"Twenty seconds!" Timothy called out.

Sydney looked around for Abby, but could no longer see her. Then he caught a movement near the tree line and could barely make her out in the shadows. He started to make his way towards her as Timothy shouted out, "Ten seconds!" and then everyone joined in the count down, "Nine, eight, seven, six…."

Sydney reached Abby who looked up at him with surprise. "Why did you have to find me?" she cried, suddenly feeling close to tears.

"Five! Four! Three!" everyone continued to shout.

Sydney felt his heart pounding knowing it was wrong for him to be doing this, but was completely powerless to stop himself. "Because I want to be next to you when the New Year begins," he said breathlessly.

"Two! One! Happy New Year!" The crowd shouted and cheered.

Suddenly, Sydney pulled Abby to him and kissed her hard on the lips. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she kissed him back almost desperately. She found herself clinging to his neck, never wanting to let him go.

The sounds of explosions in the air followed by bursts of colour lighting up the night sky startled them out of the kiss, but Sydney kept his arms around her. "Happy New Year, Abbs," he said softly.

"Happy New Year, Siddy," she whispered as she laid her head against his chest.

They continued to hold each other as they watched the fireworks exploding all around them, savouring each final moment together knowing that soon reality would be intervening and separating them possibly forever.

After staying up so late the previous night, everyone at the manor had a nice lie-in the following morning—everyone except Abby, that is, who never went to sleep to begin with. She couldn't stop playing their kiss over and over in her mind—a kiss that she hadn't instigated or tricked him into doing. She had been the one to retreat and he was the one who followed her and pulled her into the embrace. Did this mean that he was finally acknowledging his feelings for her? How could she possibly leave Candleford the next day if he was? She would have to find out for sure before the day ended.

Sydney hadn't slept a wink, either. He still did not know what possessed him to kiss her at the stroke of midnight. He had vowed to keep his distance so she could pursue the best life for herself, but there he was breaking his own vow and possibly ruining everything for her. He sighed as he had no idea what to do next knowing that he would have to face her soon, and knowing, too, that she would now be aware he was in love with her. How could she construe that kiss in any other way? He pressed his hands to his eyes and chastised himself for his impetuous act. There was nothing to do now but face the predicament he had got himself into and deal with it somehow, some way, with as little damage as possible.

The guests began to arrive around noon at the manor and Abby tried to smile graciously as she greeted them, all the while feeling her insides in turmoil at the thought of seeing Sydney again.

"Abby, you look like you haven't slept in a week!" Annie said after she arrived and took in her friend's appearance. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, dear, is it that obvious?" Abby said, putting her hands up to her face. "It's true, I didn't sleep at all last night."

"What kept you awake? Are you anxious about having to go back to your grandmother's tomorrow?"

Abby took a quick look around and then pulled Annie into a private spot. "Annie, Sydney kissed me last night as the clock struck midnight."

Annie gasped and clutched Abby's arm. "Abby, that's wonderful! Did he tell you that he loved you, too?"

Abby shook her head. "No, he just said that he wanted to be next to me when the New Year began and then he kissed me."

Annie sighed. "How romantic! But why are you looking so upset? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Yes, of course! It's just…well…I don't know what it all meant. I mean, it almost felt like he was saying goodbye with his kiss. After the fireworks ended he didn't say anything—he just walked me back to my parents and then said good night to us all."

Annie looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe he didn't know what to say. Maybe he's still coming to terms with his feelings."

"But, Annie, how can I possibly leave tomorrow without knowing what it meant? I won't be able to think of anything else!"

"Perhaps you should try to talk to him today, Abby, and find out what his intentions are."

Abby nodded and then felt her heart flutter as she heard Sydney's voice in the foyer. "Wish me luck," she whispered to Annie.

"I always do," Annie said with an encouraging smile.

"Hello, Syd," Abby greeted him, trying to sound as normal as possible. She noticed he looked as sleep deprived as she felt.

"Hello, Abby. Happy New Year."

She smiled tentatively at him. "Yes, Happy New Year."

He smiled briefly in return and then turned away to look at their friends who had gathered by the waiting carriages. "Well, I think everyone has arrived. We should take them down to the lake now."

"Yes, of course," she said with a nod. "We mustn't keep them waiting."

The children had already run ahead with skates in hand to the lake whilst the adults journeyed by carriage since there was still snow on the ground. Timothy thoughtfully had his men place benches on the shore of the lake and small campfires were already lit to keep people warm. The children could now be heard shouting and laughing as they raced each other across the ice and Ben, being the oldest of the children, naturally became their leader. As he stood on the edge of the lake and surveyed his minions, Hannah Brown, who was all of eleven years old, with her mother's brown hair and her father's bright blue eyes, came and stood shyly next to him.

"Happy New Year, Ben," she said in a voice that came out as barely a squeak. Her cheeks turned pink as she looked up at him for she thought he was the most handsome boy in Candleford.

Ben barely glanced at her. "Oh, Happy New Year, Hannah."

Hannah continued to look hopefully up at him. "Ben, will you skate with me today? I don't really know how very well and you're so good at it."

Ben scrunched up his nose. "Oh, I don't think…"

Before he could finish his sentence he heard his father, who had been standing nearby, clear his throat and say in a quiet, warning voice, "Manners, Benjamin."

Ben sighed, "Yes, Hannah, I will skate with you."

Hannah's little face lit up with a big smile and she grabbed his hand before he could get away. Ben had a long suffering look on his face as he pushed his feet forward on the ice, keeping hold of the little girl's hand so she wouldn't fall.

Timothy watched them go and was trying not to laugh when Dorcas came up to him. "What are you smirking at, Timothy?"

"Our son," he replied as he put his arm around her. "I think he's already attracting the attentions of the young ladies here in Candleford."

Dorcas smiled as she watched Ben skating with Thomas and Margaret's little girl. "Well, I think it is very sweet that Ben is letting Hannah skate with him."

"And hating every minute of it, judging by the look on his face," Timothy chuckled.

"Oh, he'll grow out of that soon enough. After all, he is your son," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"And what do you mean by that, my dear?" he asked.

"Well, you were about his age when you started chasing after me, remember?"

"Was I? I only remember being terrified of you when I was thirteen." He gave her a teasing grin.

"Good heavens, Timothy, why on earth would I have terrified you?"

"Because you were already becoming completely irresistible, darling, and I had no idea what to do with you."

Dorcas curled her arm around his waist. "You figured it out rather quickly, as I remember."

Timothy chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I did, didn't I?"

They continued to watch as Ben and Hannah made their way to the centre of the lake where Hannah promptly fell down and began to cry. Dorcas's first instinct was to hurry out there to help, but Timothy held her back.

"Wait, darling, I want to see how Benjamin handles the situation."

They saw Ben look around helplessly at first, but when no one came to their aid he knelt down next to Hannah and appeared to be asking her if she was hurt. When she continued to cry he reached into his pocket and gave her his handkerchief and then patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. Then he got behind her and put his arms underneath hers and lifted her carefully to her feet, after which he took her hand and slowly guided her back to her parents.

Timothy looked at his wife. "I think he'll do," he said proudly.

As Ben came skating by, Timothy called him over. "Well done, son," he said as he placed his arm around Ben's shoulders.

"Yes, that was very gallant of you to give Hannah your handkerchief, Benjamin. I am proud of you," Dorcas said, making Ben blush.

"How do I get my handkerchief back from her, Mother?" he asked as he looked over at Hannah, who was now looking at the handkerchief in her hand as if it were a treasure.

"You don't," Dorcas replied.

"But it has my initials on it! Everyone will think that I…that I like her or something!" Ben said, looking mortified.

Timothy pulled him aside. "Son, a gentleman does not ask for the return of a handkerchief. It is up to the lady to return it to him. In Hannah's case, I would not expect to have it returned."

"Why not?"

Timothy tried to suppress a smile. "Because I suspect she is going to keep it beneath her pillow for the foreseeable future."

"Aw, Father!" Ben exclaimed, looking completely disgusted.

"You should be flattered, Benjamin. Hannah is a very pretty little girl."

"Oh, Timothy, stop teasing him. Can't you see you're embarrassing him?" Dorcas said, giving him a disapproving look.

"Please, Father, can I go be with my friends now?" Ben pleaded.

Timothy chuckled. "Yes, yes, go on with you."

Timothy was just taking Dorcas's hand to skate with her when they were interrupted by Ruby Pratt screeching at the top of her lungs as she lost her footing on the ice. Pearl grabbed hold of her sister, trying to keep her upright, which made her hat nearly topple from her head with the effort.

"Timothy, perhaps you should offer your assistance to Pearl and Ruby. They can take hold of either arm until they get used to their skates."

Timothy gave her the same suffering look that Ben had had on his face, but he went and did his duty to the grateful ladies. Dorcas tried not to laugh at the pitiful look on his face as he skated away with his double burden.

Meanwhile, Thomas and Margaret were skating sedately in circles around the lake whilst their little dog Cassie barked and ran to catch up with them along the shoreline. Cassie would try to venture out onto the ice only to slip and slide until finally retreating back to the edge. Then Margaret, unable to restrain herself any longer, let go of Thomas's arm and suddenly went shooting across the lake, much to his astonishment.

"Margaret!" he called after her, but she was gone like the wind. With a joyful smile she turned on her skates and started sailing backwards. The children all stopped and watched her and then eagerly tried to imitate her moves. Then she journeyed to the centre of the lake where she began to slowly spin about, making little jumps and swinging her legs around to spin some more.

Thomas just stood there gaping at his wife's newly revealed talent and soon he heard Laura, Emma, Queenie and Dorcas clapping each time Margaret made a successful jump. Pearl and Ruby brought Timothy to a halt on the ice as they watched Margaret in disbelief for she had now pulled her arms in and was spinning faster and faster.

"Goodness! She's like a whirling dervish!" Ruby exclaimed with a hand to her throat as she watched Margaret spinning about like a top on the ice.

"Incredible!" Pearl said, completely awestruck.

Finally, Margaret came to a halt and raised her arms with a flourish as she did so. Everyone continued to clap and shout, "Bravo!"

Margaret blushed deeply, but she was smiling from ear to ear.

Cassie once again tried to reach Margaret, as seeing her mistress spinning about had made the little dog quite frantic, but she could only slip and slide in slow circles. Thomas finally took pity on the dog and scooped her up in his arms where she began to lick his face gratefully.

"M-My dear," Thomas stammered as he tottered his way to his wife, "that was…that was simply…incredible!"

Margaret smiled modestly at him. "Thank you, Thomas. Shall we continue our tour around the lake now?" Thomas nodded, still looking stunned, as he took her arm.

Abby and Annie, meanwhile, had been skating side-by-side as they were making the most of this last opportunity to chat for a long time. Sydney and Harry were still standing on the shore having a chat of their own. The girls stared at them as they skated by.

"Right," Annie said firmly, "I am going to get Harry away from Sydney now and you, Abby, are going to get Sydney to talk to you."

Abby nodded. "Yes, I think it's time."

It only took a moment for Annie to pull Harry away and then she nodded encouragingly to Abby, who slowly made her way over to Sydney.

"Come skate with me, Syd," she said as she held her hand out to him.

Sydney sighed. "You know I'm not very good on skates, Abby."

"That's all right, I won't let you fall. Please, Sydney? We have so little time left together before I have to leave."

Sydney took her hand. "You're right. I'm sorry, Abbs. Of course I'll skate with you."

He was a bit unsteady on his feet as he stepped onto the ice, but after a few minutes he gained his balance and was able to glide along next to her. They were silent at first, each unsure of how to broach the subject that was on both of their minds.

"Sydney," Abby finally spoke first, "I need to know something."

Sydney looked off to the horizon. "I know you do, Abby," he said softly.

By now they had reached a gentle curve in the lake and were out of view from the others. The lake was narrower at this end and tree branches nearly spanned the distance between its shores, creating a skeletal network above them. Abby stopped skating and faced Sydney, who became a bit unsteady as he tried to stand still.

"Sydney, I'm sure you're going to tell me that last night's kiss was another mistake so I'm not going to hold out any hope of it being anything more than you being caught up in the moment. But before I leave for London I have to ask, I have to know for sure, Syd, just what it meant to you. Do you…do you have feelings for me or was it just your way of saying goodbye?"

Sydney looked at a point over her shoulder as he battled with himself over what to say. What he wanted to do was take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her and never wanted to be parted from her ever again, but he knew he couldn't do that. He mustn't say anything that would keep her from going back to London.

He could feel her eyes riveted to his face as she waited breathlessly for his reply, and it took every ounce of his courage to finally face her and look directly into her beautiful eyes—eyes that were now looking at him with such love that it nearly took his breath away.

He took her hands in his. "Abby, you know how dear you are to me…" At that moment he felt one of his feet starting to slip, and in his effort to stop its momentum, his other foot went out from under him and he suddenly fell backward onto the ice, pulling Abby along with him. She landed right on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs with a loud 'Ooof!'

"Oh, Syd, are you all right? Are you hurt?" Abby cried as she tried to lift herself off of him, but it was difficult for her skated feet to gain any purchase.

Sydney was finally able to draw some air into his lungs. "I…I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me."

Abby's movements on top of him nearly made him lose his breath again, but for an entirely different reason. Her continued efforts to get up nearly undid him.

"For the love of God, Abby, will you please stop squirming?" He grimaced and closed his eyes, trying to maintain some control over the primitive impulses that were suddenly threatening to take over his body.

She gave him an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry, Syd. Am I hurting you?"

"Not exactly," he said, trying to stifle a groan. "Perhaps if you could roll off of me before trying to stand up…"

"Of course, I'm so sorry," Abby said, her face turning bright red as she realised what she was doing to him. She rolled to the side and then quickly got to her feet so she could help him up.

"That's all right, Abby, I can get up on my own," he said, turning away from her as he tried to struggle to his feet on the slippery ice.

Abby looked worriedly at him. "Perhaps I should fetch Doctor Armstrong. You hit the ice pretty hard, Siddy."

He waved a hand at her. "No, no, I'm fine, really. Just give me a moment."

"If you're sure…" Abby said doubtfully.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure." After a few moments he finally rose to his feet and Abby grabbed his arm to steady him. Then they began to make their way back to the party where Abby steered him over to where Doctor Armstrong and Laura were standing.

"Abby, I'm fine, really. No need to bother Doctor Armstrong," Sydney protested, but Abby ignored him.

"Doctor Armstrong, could you make sure Sydney is all right for me? He fell pretty hard on the ice a few minutes ago."

Richard was instantly in doctor mode as he forced Sydney off the ice and sat him down on a bench in front of a fire. "Did you hit your head, Sydney?" he asked as he felt around Sydney's skull.

"Just lightly, I landed more on my backside than anything."

Dorcas came running up when she saw the doctor examining Sydney. "Oh, Sydney, are you hurt?"

Sydney smiled at her. "No, Ma, I'm fine. I just had a little spill on the ice."

Dorcas still looked worried. "Well, I think we should get you back to the manor. I'm sure everyone is ready for their tea, anyway."

The children were soon herded off the ice and everyone was eager for refreshments after skating all afternoon.

Abby rode back with Sydney in one of the carriages and during the short journey she leaned over to him and whispered, "Don't think falling on the ice has got you out of answering my question from before, Sydney. You aren't going home until you've answered it."

Sydney nodded, but remained silent.

Timothy had ordered the tea set up in the great hall and all the guests exclaimed over the lavish amount of food and drink that had been prepared. Abby made sure to visit with everyone as they wished her good luck with her first Season.

Queenie grasped Abby's hand as she sat by her. "You, my dear, will have all the young men fighting over you after you make your debut. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be more beautiful than your grandmother, but you have succeeded. I wish she and your mother could be here now to see you. They would be so proud."

Abby suddenly had tears in her eyes as she hugged Queenie tight. "Thank you, dear Queenie. I only hope I can manage not to trip when I am presented to the King and Queen!"

Queenie laughed and held her face in her hands. "You needn't worry about that happening, dear. You have your mother's gracefulness. You will do us all proud."

It was nearly evening by the time everyone began to leave. Abby and Annie held each other tight as they said their goodbyes. "You must write and tell me every little thing that is going on here," Abby told her as she sniffed away tears.

"And you must do the same, Abby! I want to hear all about London society and what it's like to meet the King and Queen!"

"I will, Annie, I promise. And keep an eye on Syd for me, will you? Don't let him fall in love with the next pretty girl who comes to town!"

Annie laughed. "I will do my best. Did he talk to you about the kiss yet?"

"No, he was about to when he fell on the ice."

"Oh, dear! Well, don't let him go until he talks to you."

"I won't. Goodbye, Annie. I'm going to miss you terribly!" Abby hugged her again.

"Goodbye, Abby. I'm going to miss you terribly, too!"

Abby closed the door after Annie left and stood with her forehead pressed against it. She hated goodbyes and wished with all her heart that she didn't have to leave in the morning. But her hardest goodbye was yet to come. When she finally turned away from the door she nearly gasped to find Sydney standing there watching her.

He gave her a sad smile. "At least I get to say goodbye to you this time," he said.

"You're not leaving already, are you?" she asked.

"Yes, but I will be here early tomorrow morning to see you off."

"Syd, please don't go yet. I need you to tell me what last night's kiss meant. Please talk to me, Sydney. I couldn't possibly leave here without knowing how you feel about me."

Sydney took her hand and led her into the parlour, where they could have a little privacy, and then turned to face her.

"Abby, that kiss was very special to me. You know how fond I am of you."

"Fond…" Abby said dully.

"Yes, fond. You are such a special friend..."

Abby suddenly stepped away from him. "Stop, don't say anymore. I don't want to hear how special I am—I want to know if you love me or not. Can't you just be honest with me for once? I was there during that kiss last night and the one on Christmas Eve, remember? I know you feel more for me than 'fondness' and 'special friendship' so stop lying to me, Sydney."

Sydney hated himself for breaking her heart yet again, but he didn't know what else to do. If he told her he loved her then she would stay in Candleford and never make her debut into society. It was bad enough that he had to lie to her, but it was an even bigger sin to limit her life by keeping her here in Candleford.

"I'm sorry, Abby, but I can't tell you what you want to hear. I'm so sorry, dear heart. I only want what is best for you and that would be for you to go to London and meet other people—see what is out there waiting for you. Once you do, you may never want to come back to Candleford again. I want you to at least have that choice before you decide how you really want to live your life."

Abby was trying very hard not to cry. She did not want to cry in front of him anymore, nor did she want to feel this way any longer. She looked down at her hands. "If you really knew me, Sydney, you would know that I already know the kind of life I want to live. But you refuse to see it, don't you?" She shook her head sadly. "Well, I guess we have nothing more to say to each other, do we?"

Sydney closed his eyes and remained silent, trying to find the words to say that would make her understand, but they would not come to him.

By the time he opened his eyes again she was no longer in the room.

Chapter 12

Abby's first month back in London flew by quickly. All she wanted to focus on was becoming a proper lady in accordance with her grandmother's wishes. If Sydney wanted her to meet other men so badly then that was what she was going to do. She would charm them all until they were eating out of the palm of her hand and then she would make sure Sydney knew how popular she had become. How sorry he would be once all those eligible young men started clamouring for her hand in marriage! Well, he had had his chance and he threw it away.

With that goal in mind she worked hard and Lady Claire was impressed with how well she took direction. The best dancing instructors were brought in and Abby learnt every dance that she could possibly be exposed to at the many balls she would be attending. Her long legs and natural grace lent themselves to her becoming an excellent dancer. Her instructors were pleased with her progress and her grandmother was exceptionally proud.

It wasn't until she was alone in her room at night that the lack of distractions allowed doubts to creep into her mind and thoughts of Candleford impossible to push away. It didn't help that Annie wrote faithfully twice a week and kept her reminded of a certain Postmaster who had broken her heart. Two weeks into her stay in London Abby received a hastily written letter from her friend:

Dear Abby,

A most shocking thing has just occurred here! I could not wait to tell you so I have only just now shooed Harry away so I could write to you. Are you sitting down? Sophia has eloped with Mr Fielding! It is all the tittle-tattle of Candleford! Miss Pearl and Miss Ruby have been speaking of nothing else since news of it reached our ears. They ran off to God knows where and came back as man and wife (Sophia and Mr Fielding, that is, not Miss Pearl and Miss Ruby). I, of course, asked Harry how Sydney took the news and Harry said that Sydney didn't seem to care at all. All he said was, "I hope she will be very happy." That seems rather surprising since it wasn't all that long ago he was so in love with her.

Speaking of which, you never did tell me what happened when you confronted him about that New Year's Eve kiss. It must not have gone well for you to have not told me. If that is the case, I am so sorry, Abby. I gathered as much as Harry says that Sydney is back to being quite grouchy again.

Well, I thought you would want to know about Sophia and Mr Fielding. I hope you are getting on well in London and your grandmother isn't making you too miserable. Please write to me soon and let me know how you are doing! I am always here if you need me.

I miss you so much!

Love,

Annie

So Sophia ran off with Mr Fielding! Abby could not say that she was surprised. She had seen this coming for quite some time. At least it didn't seem like Sydney was still carrying a torch for the woman.

Abby set about writing a quick reply to Annie knowing she would be waiting anxiously for it. She expressed appropriate shock, but shied away from discussing her talk with Sydney. She didn't want to relive those feelings again in a letter. Hopefully Annie would understand.

In the middle of February, Abby celebrated her seventeenth birthday. Her parents and brother surprised her with a visit to London. Her grandmother suddenly found herself indisposed with a headache the moment they arrived so Timothy and Dorcas took Abby out on the town. They enjoyed a lovely day together followed by an elegant dinner at one of London's finest restaurants and an evening at the theatre. Before taking her back to her grandmother's Dorcas gave her two more gifts.

"Annie wished for us to give you this, Abby," Dorcas said as she handed Abby a prettily wrapped, but very flat package. "And this one is from Sydney."

Abby swallowed hard when she saw that Sydney had remembered her birthday. "Thank you, Ma."

"Aren't you going to open them, Abby?" Dorcas asked.

"N-No, I think I'll save them for later," Abby replied.

Dorcas gave her one of her knowing looks and then patted her hand. "I understand, dear."

As the evening came to an end, Abby was returned to her grandmother's house and she tearfully said goodbye to her family. "Thank you so much for coming to London to see me! I've missed you all so much," she cried.

"We miss you, too, Abigail. Happy birthday, darling," Timothy said as he hugged her and placed a kiss on her forehead. Then he held her away from him. "Look at you—my little girl is all grown up! I suppose the next thing I will be doing is walking you down the aisle."

Abby laughed through her tears. "Yes, I suppose so, Papa, if Grandmother has her way about it. It seems to be her one purpose in life to marry me off!"

Timothy touched her cheek. "Well, just as long as you choose wisely, child, and are happy."

It was Dorcas's turn to give her a hug and then she gave Abby a kiss on the cheek. "That was from Sydney, darling."

Abby was too afraid to speak for fear of bursting into tears. Dorcas seemed to understand and took her face in her hands. "Don't give up on him, Abby," she whispered.

Despite her efforts, two tears escaped down her cheeks. "I'm afraid I have to, Ma," she said sadly.

Dorcas shook her head. "You must always keep faith in your love, Abby. Never give up on it."

When Abby still looked doubtful, Dorcas looked meaningfully into her eyes. "You must trust me on this, Abigail."

Abby nodded and then hugged her mother again, wetting her shoulder with her tears. "I'll try, Ma," she whispered.

After her family had gone, Abby slowly made her way to her room and sat upon her bed where she stared at the gifts Annie and Sydney had sent to her. She opened Annie's first and gasped when she saw it was a photograph of the Post Office and standing in front of it were Sydney, Thomas, Harry and Annie. Harry and Annie had big smiles on their faces and Thomas stood proudly in his postman's uniform with his little dog Cassie by his side. Sydney, however, stood alone, looking rather sad. Abby found herself reaching out and lightly touching his image as tears gathered in her eyes. She stared at the photograph for a long time before remembering there was a letter included with it.

Dear Abby,

Happy birthday! I hope this letter finds you well. A photographer came through town last week and wanted to take photographs of all the local businesses. I happened to be outside when he took the photograph of the Post Office so of course Harry made me stand with him. The photographer was kind enough to give me a print when I asked him for one as I wanted you to have it to remember us by whilst you are in London. You can see by Sydney's expression that he has been rather sad lately. Harry is sure it is because you are gone again. Could that be true, Abby? Since you won't tell me what happened between you two on New Year's Day I can only surmise this to be true.

I hope you had a wonderful birthday. We miss you so much!

Love,

Annie

"Oh, Annie, I miss you, too!" Abby whispered to herself as she carefully folded the letter and placed the photograph on her nightstand where she could see it as she lay in her bed. How homesick she suddenly felt to see the Post Office again. Could it be true that Sydney was sad over losing her? Somehow she couldn't believe that to be the case at all. He had never once professed to be in love with her.

She looked down at Sydney's gift which was now in her hands and was almost afraid to open it. She dried her eyes with her handkerchief and then took a deep breath before opening the package. Inside was an exquisite musical ornament made of porcelain. It was of a handsome couple dancing as though at a ball—the lady in a beautiful blue ball gown and the gentleman in a dark brown suit. They stood on a round, porcelain stand that when wound with a key played a lovely melody Abby recognised as a waltz. She stared at it in awe that Sydney would buy her something so delicately beautiful. Then she took another deep breath as she opened the little note he had included with it.

Dearest Abby,

Happy birthday. I saw this and it made me think of you as you will be embarking on a whirlwind of balls and dances very soon. I thought the little lady dancer looked like you, too—so very beautiful. I hope you will look as happy as she does whilst you dance with all those princes whom I am sure will be queuing up to sign your dance card. It is times like these when I wish I could have been born a prince myself. If I were, I would claim every dance with you for myself.

Enjoy this special time in your life, dear heart, and remember how much we all love you here in Candleford. You are very much missed.

Love always,

Siddy

Abby hugged the letter to her heart and began to cry again until she had soaked her handkerchief with her tears. Then she placed the little ornament next to the photograph and watched as the melody of the waltz filled the air and the dancers danced round and round in perfect harmony.

As her Presentation at Court date approached at the beginning of April, Abby felt as though her nerves were stretched to their limit. Her grandmother was only adding to her increasing anxiety.

"Abigail, whatever you do, do not let your feet get tangled up in your gown as you walk towards Their Majesties. I remember poor Lillian Crowley, who did that very thing and nearly tore half her gown off. I will not have my granddaughter repeat such a performance and become the laughingstock of London."

Abby sighed, feeling her breakfast beginning to roil about in her stomach. "I will do my best not to trip, Grandmother."

"And you will not eat a single thing before your presentation, child. I remember hearing how Lady Fairmont stuffed herself full of breakfast and then became so violently ill with nerves during her presentation that it left the Queen herself gagging. I should have to go into seclusion if you were to do such a thing."

Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Please, Grandmother, I could do without hearing all these horror stories."

Lady Claire sniffed. "Well, I just wanted you to be aware of the pitfalls so you can avoid them at all costs."

"Yes, Grandmother, consider me warned."

At least the day before this momentous occasion she received a letter from her father which gave her some comfort:

Dear Abigail,

I know you must be feeling some trepidation at this moment with your Presentation at Court just a day away. I want you to know that your Papa is thinking of you and knows that you will come through it brilliantly. Do not let your grandmother intimidate you with stories of past disasters. She did the same thing to your mother and she came through just fine. Your mother once told me how she overcame her nervousness when presented to the Monarch. She said she pictured Their Majesties completely naked and was too busy trying not to laugh to be nervous. Perhaps you could try this yourself, although the thought of seeing King George without a stitch of clothing on would probably send me screaming from the room.

(Your Ma is reading this over my shoulder as I write and has just scolded me for suggesting such a naughty thing. I fear she is going to make me stand in the corner now for my punishment.)

You must write to us the moment it is over, Abigail. We will be waiting to hear from you. In the meantime, your Ma and I send our love and very best wishes.

Your very proud

Papa

Abby laughed as she read the letter and the anxiety she was feeling began to dissipate. Then an hour later a telegram was delivered to her:

Dear Abby. Wishing you luck tomorrow. Love Syd, Harry and Annie.

Abby laughed again and kissed the telegram with tears in her eyes. That the people she loved most in the world were thinking of her made her feel so much better. How she missed them! She would do splendidly before the Court knowing they would be with her in spirit.

The next morning her grandmother was in quite a state making sure Abby's gown, hair and train were just perfect. By the time they reached Buckingham Palace Lady Claire's hands were shaking as though it were she who was being presented to Their Majesties. Abby felt surprisingly calm and was looking forward to when it was all over with and she was attending the first of the balls.

After arriving at the Palace, they were first herded into an ante-room to wait. Abby stood with several other young ladies, each awaiting their turn, whilst Lady Claire joined the other dowagers who sat along the wall, keeping an eye on their young charges. Abby's ridiculously long train was folded over her shoulder whilst she waited and she tried to ignore the quivering voices of the other girls who were pleading to God not to let them stumble, or worse. Abby glanced over at her grandmother, who sat looking pale and nervous, and gave her a wink. Lady Claire just stared at her with disbelief that she could be so calm.

Then suddenly it was Abby's turn. She was ushered into the Presence-Chamber where she let down her train and two lords-in-waiting spread it out behind her. Then she entered the room lined with brightly uniformed courtiers and light dazzled upon her as she began her approach to King George and Queen Mary. As Abby walked steadily forward it seemed as though all sound had stopped and everyone else had faded away, leaving her the only person in the room. The rest seemed a blur. Later, she would remember how the King and Queen smiled benevolently upon her as she made a deep, flawless curtsey before them and then felt the Queen's kiss upon her forehead. It all happened so quickly she didn't have time to feel nervous or picture them naked which would have surely sent her into a fit of giggles. Rather disconcertingly, she thought King George smiled rather too admiringly at her, as though perhaps it was he who was picturing her without any clothes on! Then, blessedly, it was time for her to pass through as she kept her face towards the Monarch whilst making a succession of curtseys. As quickly as it had begun, it had ended and Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief that she had done nothing to cause her grandmother to go into seclusion.

She was now officially a lady.

It appeared that Lady Claire knew everyone and anyone who was a Somebody. At the beginning of Abby's first official ball of the Season, she spent more time being introduced to the most important families in attendance than dancing. Despite her previous declaration to charm every young man who came her way, Abby found herself feeling rather shy and uneasy being thrust in a room filled with people she did not know. Being raised in a small village like Candleford, where she had grown up knowing almost everyone, it was disconcerting to be thrown amongst strangers where she was expected to carry on conversations and dance closely with unfamiliar men. She was so distracted with trying to keep names straight and maintain a smile on her face that she barely noticed all the admiring glances she was receiving from not only the younger men in the room but the older men as well. Lady Claire smiled to herself knowing her granddaughter was sure to quickly make a very fine match. Abigail was clearly the most beautiful woman in the room in her estimation.

Once the introductions were made, Abby found her dance card was quickly filled. Her first partner was Lord Grayson who had a wide, congenial face with freckles and curly red hair. He smiled at Abby as they danced.

"I say, Miss Midwinter, I was afraid this Season would be devoid of pretty ladies until you walked into the room. I said to myself, 'Self, you must be the first to dance with this beautiful young lady.' Although I do realise you would rather be dancing with one of the more handsome young bucks waiting in the wings, I thank you for allowing this foolish old man to enjoy a dance with you."

He said this so kindly and with such humourous self deprecation that Abby did not feel uneasy with his words, even though he was correct in that she was not attracted to him. Despite that, he made her smile and put her at ease during her first dance for which she was grateful.

"Lord Grayson, it is a pleasure to dance with a gentleman such as yourself. You do me a great honour."

Lord Grayson bowed his head and would later profess how charming Miss Midwinter was to his peers.

Abby danced three more dances with men more her age, and whilst they were handsome enough and most attentive to her, she felt no attraction to them. She couldn't help but wish it was Sydney whose arms she was dancing in. Then, an older gentleman, not much younger than her father, claimed the next dance. Her grandmother had told her earlier that this was Lord Donnington who had recently been made a widower and remained childless. He was extremely wealthy, owned a large estate near Northamptonshire and was most eager to marry again and produce an heir. Abby immediately felt ill at ease with him for he held her a little too tightly and had a strange way of staring at her without blinking. She found herself looking anywhere but at his face as they danced and prayed the dance would be a short one. As she glanced about the room she noticed a handsome young man watching her from the sidelines with a rather amused expression on his face. He must have noticed her discomfiture with Lord Donnington for he suddenly made his way towards her and tapped Lord Donnington on the shoulder.

Lord Donnington finally blinked, much to Abby's relief who was beginning to think his eyeballs were going to dry up, and looked with displeasure at the young man.

"A thousand pardons, Lord Donnington, but I believe this dance was supposed to be mine."

Lord Donnington narrowed his eyes at him. "And I believe you are in error, young Harwell."

The young man called Harwell shook his head. "If Miss Midwinter would be so kind as to consult her dance card I believe I will be proved correct." He looked over at Abby and she could have sworn he winked at her. "That is, if Miss Midwinter does not object."

Abby would have said anything to get rid of Lord Donnington. She glanced quickly at her dance card then hurriedly closed it knowing a gentleman would not contradict a lady. "Y-Yes, Mr Harwell, you are correct. I am so sorry, Lord Donnington, for the confusion."

Lord Donnington looked nonplussed as Abby suddenly stood away from him. "I do beg your pardon," he said to Abby. He gave her a small bow and Harwell a scathing look before slinking away.

As Harwell took Abby in his arms she gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you for rescuing me, Mr Harwell. That man was rather disturbing."

"Please, call me Jeremy, and, yes, I could see how uncomfortable you were with him. I never could resist the urge to rescue a damsel in distress."

Abby blushed. "Did I really look so desperate?"

Jeremy laughed. "I have seen foxes cornered by dogs who looked less terrified than you whilst in Lord Donnington's clutches. So, Miss Midwinter, is this your first ball? It must be for I would not have forgotten your face."

Abby blushed again. "Yes, this is my first ball. Have you been to many yourself?"

Jeremy sighed. "Yes, far too many if you ask me. But my parents are determined to marry me off and see me settle down once and for all, so here I am."

"And after attending all those balls you still haven't found anyone you fancy?" Abby asked. She was surprised as he really was quite attractive with dark hair and even darker eyes and a pleasing mouth that was prone to grinning in such a mischievous manner it made her smile.

"Not until now," he said with a meaningful arch of an eyebrow which made her laugh.

All too soon the dance came to an end. "Shall I attempt to rescue you again tonight?" he asked before releasing her.

Abby smiled at him. "I would like that."

"Then I shall." He gave her a quick bow and another little wink before walking away.

Jeremy would rescue her twice more during the night, each time pulling the same trick with her dance card and leaving the other men shaking their heads in confusion as to how their memory could be so faulty.

Abby ended up enjoying her first ball very much indeed.

She would enjoy three more balls that same week and each time Jeremy Harwell was in attendance. He managed to secure an obscene amount of dances with her which caused more than a little disgruntlement amongst the other men who were eager to dance with the lovely Miss Midwinter. Unfortunately, Lord Donnington also attended the same balls and, thanks to Jeremy who made sure Abby's dance card was filled before Lord Donnington could get to her, could only stare at her throughout the night, making Abby feel quite uneasy.

"He is a strange one," Jeremy admitted to Abby as she expressed her discomfort at being stared at in such an odd, unblinking manner.

"Do you know anything about him?" Abby asked.

"Not really. Rumour has it that his wife died under some rather strange circumstances."

Abby shivered with revulsion making Jeremy chuckle. "Don't worry, Miss Midwinter, I won't let him anywhere near you tonight."

Another couple swirled up next to them and the rather attractive young lady looked over her partner's shoulder at Jeremy and said quite flirtatiously, "Good evening, Lord Harwell."

Jeremy returned the greeting less than enthusiastically and managed to twirl Abby in the opposite direction, making the other young lady pout.

Abby looked up at him with surprise. "Lord Harwell?"

Jeremy shrugged, looking rather sheepish. "My father is an Earl. I'm afraid I'm stuck with the title."

"You don't like being a lord?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

He gave her a pained expression. "It is dashed inconvenient as I am a younger son and will get none of the spoils that come with the title. Oh, Father will, I suppose, supply me with one of his smaller properties, but I believe he expects me to find a profession in the meantime."

"And I gather you are not eager to do so," Abby said, looking amused.

"Not in the least. I was born for a life of leisure, you see." He twirled her about yet again and gave her one of his mischievous grins. "All work and no play make Jack a dull boy and this Jack does not wish to be dull."

Abby laughed and shook her head at him. "No wonder you haven't found a wife yet."

"'Yet' being the operative word," he said as he held her tighter and smiled at her in such a way it made her feel a little light-headed.

Her grandmother would later chastise her for spending so many dances with Lord Harwell.

"You must not give more than three dances to any one man, Abigail, or tongues with wag. I am not so sure that Lord Harwell is the proper suitor for you, anyway. His father despairs of him ever making anything of himself and he is a younger son. You would do better to turn your attentions to some of the others. Lord Donnington, for example, has expressed to me his desire to know you better. He is, after all, the most eligible of all the men here."

Abby shuddered again. "No, please, Grandmother, I find Lord Donnington very disagreeable and he is much too old. He makes me feel very uneasy and, besides, Lord Harwell told me his wife died under strange circumstances."

Lady Claire huffed. "Stuff and nonsense! There was nothing untoward in Lady Donnington's unfortunate death whatsoever. Lord Harwell, not surprisingly, is telling you tales."

"I don't care, Grandmother, I don't like Lord Donnington and I refuse to have anything to do with him. Do not try to force him on me or I will take the next train home to my father."

Her grandmother sighed with frustration, but finally acquiesced. "All right, Abigail, I will tell Lord Donnington you are not interested in his attentions."

"Thank you, Grandmother," Abby said with relief.

"As long as you agree to dance with a wider variety of men other than Lord Harwell!" Lady Claire added.

Abby frowned. "Yes, Grandmother."

Abby told Jeremy her predicament and he agreed not to interfere anymore with her dances, claiming only two for himself during the other balls they attended. But he did keep an eye on her in case Lord Donnington tried to make further advances upon her.

Jeremy realised with a start that he genuinely liked Miss Midwinter, finding her a most amusing and beautiful creature. For the first time he began to look forward to the rest of the Season as long as he knew she would be there.

Yes, he thought to himself, Abigail Midwinter was a most agreeable young lady indeed.

Since Sydney still had not hired anyone new to take Abby's place at the Post Office, Dorcas continued to spend part of her day helping him out by sorting the mail and waiting on customers. She really did not mind doing it in the least for she enjoyed being back behind the counter of what had once been her whole life. She could also keep an eye on Sydney who seemed to have forgotten how to smile the past few months.

During one of their slower moments, Dorcas studied her son as he stared uncommunicatively out the window. "Sydney, have you had any letters from Abby lately?" she finally asked.

Sydney shook his head and looked even more morose. "No, not since she thanked me for her birthday gift."

"I see."

He could feel his mother's eyes still staring at him. "I don't want to talk about it, Ma."

"All right, Sydney, I won't press you, but if you need someone to talk to…"

"I'm fine, Ma, thank you," he said, making it clear the subject was closed.

Just then the afternoon batch of mail arrived and Dorcas hurried to begin sorting it. "Oh, how wonderful—another letter from Abby!" she exclaimed as she held up an envelope addressed to her and Timothy. "I don't suppose Timothy would mind if I opened it here so I could share it with you," she said as she looked up at Sydney.

Sydney shrugged and appeared to be uninterested. "Do whatever you like, Ma."

Dorcas sighed at him and then proceeded to open the letter and read it out loud:

Dear Ma and Papa,

The hour is late, but I wanted to write to you before I went to sleep for I shall probably sleep well into the day tomorrow. Grandmother has kept me going non-stop to every ball in London and every dinner we are invited to. She says we must make the most of this Season if I am to meet all the right people and secure the best offers of marriage. I don't know how many more people I could possibly meet for I am sure I have already met every single person in London already.

I am becoming more at ease with dancing with men I have only just met, but only one is amusing enough to dance with twice. His name is Lord Jeremy Harwell. Do you know his family, Papa? His father is an Earl. Grandmother does not approve of Jeremy for, as she says, he is only a second son, but I don't care which son he is for he has been great fun and fancies himself my protector from the men I don't like to dance with, such as Lord Donnington.

Dorcas gave a quick glance up at Sydney who was pretending not to listen, but she could see his hands were now balled into fists. She continued reading:

Lord Donnington, as Ben would say, gives me the willies and I had to threaten Grandmother with going home to Candleford if she allowed him near me. Now he just follows me with his strange eyes and I wish very much he would go away. But enough about him, with Jeremy there I know I am safe.

How is everyone in Candleford? Are you still working at the Post Office, Ma, or did Sydney finally hire someone to replace me? He hasn't written to me so I imagine he has forgotten all about me by now. Well, tell him hello for me and to Harry and Thomas. Tell them I miss them.

Must get to sleep now for I have yet another ball to attend tomorrow night. Grandmother is relentless!

Give Ben a kiss from his big sister. (Yes, I know he will hate that.) Please write soon!

All my love,

Abby

Dorcas looked worriedly at Sydney whose face had now turned the colour of old cheese.

"Well, it sounds like Abby is enjoying her first Season and seems to have already made a conquest!" she said with false brightness.

Sydney responded with a grunt.

"You did push her to meet other men, Sydney," she said gently.

"I know!" he exclaimed a little more loudly than he intended. "I'm sorry, Ma. I know I did and I am happy that she is enjoying herself. Although I don't like the sound of this man who keeps staring at her. What kind of people is her grandmother exposing her to anyway?"

Dorcas placed her hand on his arm. "You aren't happy, son. You haven't been happy since she went away. Why don't you go to her… tell her how you feel?"

He shook his head resolutely. "No, I won't do that to her. If this son of an Earl is what she wants then I don't want to stand in her way."

"Please, Sydney, don't make the same mistake that I did. Don't lie to the person you love thinking that you are doing them a favour. It will only lead to innocent people getting hurt and hearts to be broken. You deserve to be happy, too, darling."

But Sydney stubbornly remained silent and Dorcas realised it did no good to push him. She folded Abby's letter and placed it back in its envelope to take home to Timothy.

Sydney then suddenly grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "I need some fresh air," he muttered and nearly knocked into Harry who was coming in just as he was going out.

"I see Syd's mood is as cheerful as ever, Lady Dorcas," he said wryly. "Has something happened?"

Dorcas sighed. "I just read him a letter that I received from Abby telling us about all the balls she's attended. I'm worried about him, Harry."

"So am I, Lady Dorcas. He has it bad for her, doesn't he?"

"I'm afraid so. I wish he would just tell her before it is too late."

"So do I…for all of our sakes!" Harry said. "If he loves her then he should go get her and marry her right away before someone else beats him to it. I don't know what he's waiting for."

Dorcas looked at him with a hint of amusement. "Yes, Harry, why do you men always hesitate to ask the women you love to marry you? What is your excuse for not asking Annie yet?"

Harry took on a rather stunned look as he stood there and blinked at her. Then a grin slowly spread across his face. "You are absolutely right, Lady Dorcas. What am I waiting for? I love Annie and I don't want to risk the chance of someone better coming along and stealing her away from me like Syd is doing with Abby."

Dorcas's eyes twinkled at him. "Then why are you still standing here talking to me?"

Harry laughed. "Will you excuse me, Lady Dorcas? I have a very pressing matter to attend to."

"Of course, Harry. Good luck!"

Harry practically ran out the door leaving Dorcas shaking her head with amusement. What a beautiful thing young love was.

Then her expression saddened. If only she could convince Sydney as easily as she had convinced Harry to run after the woman he loved.

---

Dear Abby,

You will never guess what happened just now! Harry proposed! We are getting married!

I think all of Candleford must know now because I squealed so loudly when he asked me. Oh, Abby, it was so romantic! He knelt down on one knee, wearing his postman's uniform, and told me he loved me and couldn't live without having me by his side for the rest of his life.

Just writing this is making me cry again!

Abby, I want you to be my maid of honour. We have set the date for Saturday, 1 July. Can you possibly persuade your grandmother to let you come home early so I can get you fitted for your dress? Please say yes for I cannot imagine getting married without you here!

I'm sorry to make this letter so short, but I must run home to Lark Rise to tell Ma and Pa!

How I wish you were here right now, Abby. I need my best friend to be here for me at a time like this!

Love,

The soon-to-be Mrs Harry Smith!

Abby was thankful her grandmother was not around to see her jumping up and down and cheering in a most unladylike fashion as she read Annie's letter. Her best friend was getting married—and soon! Abby knew her grandmother was not going to be pleased that she would be missing the end of the Season to attend a wedding, but Abby did not care. Wild horses could not keep her from being Annie's maid of honour.

She sat down at her desk and quickly wrote a letter of congratulations to Annie expressing all the excitement she was feeling for her friend. Then it suddenly occurred to her that whilst she would be Annie's maid of honour, Sydney was most likely to be Harry's best man. She would have to stand there at the front of the church with Sydney whilst Annie and Harry exchanged vows and pledged their love for one another. How difficult it was going to be to stand there with the man she loved knowing he would never feel for her the way Harry felt for Annie. He would never ask her to be his wife since he only felt 'fondly' towards her. Her happiness for Annie dimmed a bit with such thoughts, but she soon gave herself a mental shake, vowing not to let her broken heart interfere with Annie's joy.

Once she had posted her letter she decided to take a little stroll outside to a small, lovely park not far from her grandmother's mansion. Having grown up in the country she longed for some greenery which was a rarity in a city like London. She knew her grandmother would not approve of her walking alone, but Lady Claire was currently attending a charity function and was not expected home for at least two more hours. Abby wanted this time to herself to think about Annie's upcoming wedding and how things would be between herself and Sydney once she returned home. After she left him on New Year's night, she did not see him again to say goodbye and he did not come to see her off at the train station. Things would definitely be awkward indeed. But then she remembered the beautiful ornament he had sent her for her birthday and the lovely letter he included with it. She shook her head in confusion. His behaviour was a collection of contradictions—he said he felt only fondness for her, yet his actions were more those of a man in love. Abby suddenly wished she could go home and speak to her ma and ask her what her thoughts were. Her mother had told her not to give up on Sydney and to have faith in her love. Did her ma know something that she did not about Sydney's true feelings? If he did love her then why did he continually push her away and make her believe otherwise? She had told him again and again that she loved him so what could the problem possibly be?

She stared out across the park where children were playing under the watchful eyes of their nannies and continued to ponder this when a familiar voice startled her out of her reverie.

"Miss Midwinter, don't tell me I have the good fortune to find you alone?"

Abby looked up with surprise to find Lord Jeremy Harwell staring down at her with a look of amusement on his face. "May I?" he asked as he indicated towards the empty place next to her on the bench.

"Lord Jeremy! What are you doing here?" she asked, looking around with trepidation that someone would see them sitting together without a proper chaperone.

"Please, I prefer just Jeremy. I happened to be strolling by when I saw a most beautiful young woman all alone in the park and gazing wistfully at the children as though she wished to join them." He gave her such a playful grin that she couldn't help but smile back. "May I ask what you were thinking about so seriously just now?" he asked.

"Lord…er…I mean, Jeremy, I'm afraid my grandmother would be very unhappy if she found out we were speaking alone. I only meant to come out for a little fresh air."

"Don't worry, Miss Midwinter, I won't do anything to jeopardise your reputation. I only wished to say hello. I must say, it is quite a treat to see you outside the ballroom. May I say how fetching you look in the sunlight?" He gave her such a teasing grin that she didn't know whether to take him seriously or not.

"Thank you, Jeremy. And I am sorry to sound so ungracious before. My grandmother can be quite formidable where I am concerned."

Jeremy bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I understand. I have two sisters myself." He followed her gaze to where the children were playing and then said quietly, "You still haven't told me what you were thinking about when I happened upon you."

"Oh, I am sure it is nothing that would be of interest to you," she said.

"Try me."

Abby sighed. "Well, I just had a letter from my best friend Annie who told me she is getting married soon."

Jeremy looked at her. "That is happy news indeed! So why the furrowed brow? Do you disapprove of her intended?"

"Oh, no, Harry is wonderful. I am so happy for them both, really I am. Annie wants me to be her maid of honour."

"I see. And this will be taking place in Candleford, correct?"

"Yes, back home."

He could see she was looking rather wistful again. "You must be a bit homesick and maybe even a little…envious of your friend marrying?"

Abby nodded. "Perhaps just a bit homesick. I miss my parents and Annie and…" she hesitated as she looked down at her hands with a frown, "…everyone."

Jeremy was perceptive enough to see that she wasn't telling him the whole truth. "Does this 'everyone' include perhaps a young man?"

Abby looked up at him so quickly that he knew he had guessed correctly, but then she shook her head. "I…I don't have a young man," she said and looked away again.

He studied her profile and frowned. "He's a fool, whoever he is, not to know how lucky he is."

"Sydney is not a fool!" she said before she could stop herself. Then she wished she could have bit her tongue off. Instead, she suddenly stood up. "I really must go home now. Good day, Lord Jeremy."

"Miss Midwinter," he said, stopping her before she could leave, "I will have you know that I am not a fool. I intend to see you every chance I get, with or without your grandmother's permission. I like you, Miss Midwinter, very much indeed. There is nothing I would like more than to know you better. If I have to meet you in parks or claim every dance with you at the next ball, and the ball after that, and the ball after that, then I will do so. You are a rare breed, Miss Midwinter, and I don't intend to let you get away."

Abby just stared at him, almost fearful of the sudden, very real, sincerity in his eyes, and did the only thing she could think to do—walk quickly away.

She couldn't deny the fact that it was gratifying to finally have a man want her for a change, but whilst Lord Jeremy was very handsome and most charming, she wasn't ready to let him or any other man into her heart just yet. For now, even though he had hurt her terribly, her heart belonged only to the Postmaster of Candleford.

---

Jeremy was true to his word and remained close to Abby at every ball they attended. At first she found his attentions flattering, but deep down she knew he was wasting his efforts on her. The more men she met and danced with the more she realised she could only ever love one man. She did find Jeremy amusing, though, and he was an excellent conversationalist. He made her laugh and he was oddly perceptive to what she was thinking and feeling, but sometimes he grew sullen as they danced together, as though growing frustrated with the lack of progress he was making at winning her heart. He was used to women flirting with him, trying to win his heart, but of course the one woman he would have welcomed such attentions from barely paid him any mind at all. It only made him more determined to have her.

Even Lady Claire was beginning to warm to Lord Jeremy as he was just as charming to her as he was to Abby, and he even managed to persuade Lady Claire to dance with him once or twice of an evening. She began to rethink his worthiness for her granddaughter. "Lady Abigail Harwell," she allowed herself to say out loud and then smiled at how nice it sounded.

"Abigail," Lady Claire said one morning at the breakfast table, "Lord Jeremy's mother has invited us to a special dinner next Friday. We must get you a new gown to wear for the evening as I have a feeling she will be regarding you as a future daughter-in-law." She smiled coyly at Abby and the toast Abby had been eating suddenly turned to sawdust in her mouth. She realised with a start that she had not yet told her grandmother that she would be leaving for Candleford before the following Friday. She had no choice but to tell her now.

"Grandmother, I am so sorry, but I must leave for Candleford next week. I am to be the maid of honour at my best friend's wedding."

Lady Claire's large blue eyes began to bulge alarmingly as she stared at Abby. "What do you mean you are leaving for Candleford next week, Abigail? When, exactly, were you planning to tell me this?"

Abby gave her a weak smile. "Today? I really am sorry, Grandmother, but I was afraid to tell you knowing how upset you would be."

"Upset? Upset does not come close to what I am feeling right now, Abigail! I have worked for months to prepare you for this Season and have spent a fortune on your wardrobe! How could you possibly sit there and tell me you are going to miss the most important balls of the Season for a… a…simple country wedding?"

Abby gulped, but stood her ground. "Grandmother, Annie has been my closest friend since childhood. I cannot miss her wedding. She needs me to be there for her during this most important event of her life."

Her grandmother's eyes suddenly turned steely. "No, that is simply unacceptable. You have an obligation to me to finish out this Season. You will just have to tell this friend of yours to find someone else to stand up with her."

"I am sorry, Grandmother, but I will not do that to Annie."

"You are about to receive a proposal of marriage yourself, Abigail! Do not be so foolish as to jeopardise your own future for some country nobody!" Lady Claire's head was now quivering with anger as she tried to restrain herself from shouting.

"Grandmother, I like Jeremy very much, but I am not in love with him and I have no intention of marrying a man I am not in love with."

Her grandmother's eyes began to bulge again. "That is nonsense, child! A woman must marry sensibly first and then love will eventually follow! You modern girls have been influenced by far too many sentimental romance novels which are nothing but a bunch of twaddle. I have come to find Lord Jeremy a most agreeable young man and he is already enormously fond of you. I will not have you make the biggest mistake of your life by throwing him away."

Abby looked down at her hands and shook her head slowly. "Yet in the end it is my life and my mistake to make, is it not?"

Lady Claire stood up so fast her chair nearly tipped over backwards. "Ungrateful child! I blame that…that…interloper Dorcas Lane for the nonsense that is spewing from your mouth! She is ruining you just as she has ruined your father! No doubt she is trying to keep you away from me just as she tried to keep your father away from your mother!"

Abby backed away, once more stunned by her grandmother's wrath towards her step-mother. "This has nothing to do with my step-mother, Grandmother! This is how I feel and have always felt. Now I realise you are upset and disappointed with me and I do not blame you one bit—I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes. However, I will not allow you to continually blame my step-mother for my actions!" Abby took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "Grandmother, Annie's wedding is set for the first of July. The Season doesn't end for weeks after that. After the wedding I will return and finish out the rest of the Season. But if you have your heart set on me marrying Lord Jeremy I can tell you unequivocally right now that I will not accept his hand… not this summer, anyway. I am simply not ready to marry someone that I barely know."

Lady Claire turned away from Abby and stared out the window. "What on earth am I to tell Lord Jeremy's mother?"

Abby sighed. "Tell her the truth. Tell her I am most disappointed, but an urgent matter demands my return home. I am sure she will understand."

Her grandmother suddenly looked very old and tired as she turned to face Abby. "I doubt she will understand, Abigail, anymore than I do. I am most disappointed in you." With that she abruptly left the room leaving Abby feeling like the most awful person in the world.

There was still one more ball for Abby to attend before she was to return to Candleford. As usual, Jeremy claimed the first dance, and with one look at Abby's face he could see that something was troubling her. It then became his mission to make her smile as he led her to the dance floor.

"Will you please explain something to me, Miss Midwinter?" he asked as he took her in his arms.

"If I can, Lord Jeremy," she replied.

"Please, call me just Jeremy, Miss Midwinter," he said with a sigh.

"All right, Jeremy, as long as you call me Abby,"

"It would be my privilege." He gave her a little bow. "Now, I am most perplexed by Lady Agatha's hair. Tell me, is that the latest fashion or is she wearing a cat upon her head?"

Abby rewarded him with a laugh; an appalled one, but a laugh nonetheless. "Jeremy! That is a terrible thing to say! Are you always so critical of your peers?"

"Not at all, I was merely curious."

"Well, Lady Agatha's hair is quite fashionable, I should think."

Jeremy looked rather dubious. "Well, you are a lady so I shall bow to your judgement."

But the longer Abby stared at Lady Agatha the more it did look like she was wearing a cat on her head. She began to giggle in spite of herself.

"Ah, you see it now, don't you?" Jeremy said with amusement.

She shook her head at him. "You are awful."

Jeremy then swung her around so they moved across the room. "Now, you must have a look at Sir Ralph. I was speaking to him earlier this evening and at first I thought he was growing a moustache. Then I realised what I thought were whiskers were actually his exceptionally long nose hairs! I could not stop staring at them as they waved about every time he breathed in, so I had to excuse myself before I lost my composure."

"No, do not make me look at Sir Ralph's nose hairs, Jeremy!" she hissed at him.

"Too late, we are already here," he said with a devilish smile. "Ah, Sir Ralph, I would like you to meet Miss Abigail Midwinter."

"I hate you," she whispered to Jeremy as she extended her hand to Sir Ralph. "Sir Ralph, it is a pleasure…"

Jeremy allowed her to dance with several other men before claiming another for himself. "Forgive me, Abby, but you do not look as though you are enjoying yourself. Come, now, tell Uncle Jeremy what is troubling you."

"I'm sorry, Jeremy, it has just been a long week with my grandmother. She is very upset with me for wanting to leave London for my friend's wedding. She won't even speak to me now."

"I am very sorry to hear it," Jeremy replied sincerely. "When are you going home?"

"This Wednesday. Annie needs me to be there to help her with the wedding plans and I need to be fitted for my dress."

"Ah, so that is why Lady Claire turned down my mother's invitation to dinner."

"I really am sorry about that, Jeremy, but I cannot let Annie down. She is my dearest friend in the whole world. Please convey my regrets to your mother."

Jeremy nodded. "I understand. Annie is very fortunate to have such a devoted friend. Will you be returning to London after the wedding?"

"Yes, I agreed to return right afterwards."

"Hmmm…" Jeremy said as he studied her face. "You sound like it is an obligation to return to London rather than something you would enjoy."

Abby shook her head. "No, it's not that, it's just, well, I don't really think this is for me."

"What isn't for you?"

"This. London. These dances and all these important people. I like the life I have in Candleford just fine and I miss the people who live there. I don't care about titles or wealth or luxuries."

Jeremy stared at her. "Extraordinary! Really, Abby, you are like no other girl I have ever met. For anyone else, those things are paramount to happiness."

"Well, not for me. The happiest I have ever been was when I lived at the Post Office."

Jeremy stopped abruptly in the middle of the dance floor. "Did you just say you lived in a Post Office?"

Abby's face suddenly turned red knowing her grandmother would be furious if anyone in her circle knew her granddaughter had been raised in a Post Office. "Y-Yes, I did. My stepmother owned the Candleford Post Office, you see, and after she and my father married they decided to continue living there until her adopted son could take it over when he turned eighteen. When I was ten years old we moved to my father's estate, but I never liked it nearly as much as our cosy little Post Office."

Jeremy seemed a bit stunned as he mulled over what she had just told him. "Tell me something, Abby. Is this adopted son, the one who took over the Post Office, the same man whose name you so innocently blurted out the other day?"

Abby found herself unable to look him in the eye. "Yes," she said softly.

"I see."

Jeremy continued their dance in silent contemplation. Then, as the dance came to an end, he tightened his arms around her and whispered in her ear, "I don't want you to leave."

"I have to, Jeremy," she whispered back. "I think it is for the best."

Before Jeremy could say anything else, the music started again and this time it was a louder, livelier tune that was greeted enthusiastically by the crowd. Jeremy took this opportunity to whisk Abby away to an empty corridor without anyone noticing.

"What do you mean you think it for the best that you leave?" he demanded once he determined they were all alone.

"I don't wish to talk about it right now, Jeremy," she replied.

"You can't leave me like this, Abby. You must know how I feel about you…I think I have made my intentions quite clear."

Abby was starting to look desperate. "Yes, I do know, Jeremy, and I am so sorry to cause you pain, but I am just not ready to love anyone else yet."

He rocked back on his heels. "Not ready to love anyone else? So you were in love with this…what was his name? Sydney?"

When she remained silent he began to scowl. "You are still in love with him, aren't you?"

"It doesn't matter because he will never be in love with me!" she finally blurted out as her eyes filled with tears.

Jeremy reached out and grasped her arms. "All the more reason to give me a chance!" he cried.

Abby shook her head and tried to pull away. "I can't, I just can't. I'm so sorry, Jeremy."

He still wouldn't let go of her. "So you are going to go back, then, and let him break your heart all over again, is that it? Why, Abby? Why would you do that when you have someone standing right in front of you who does love you?"

Abby began to cry. "Please, don't say that!"

"Then I guess I will just have to show you, instead." He pulled her to him and kissed her, softly at first, and then almost desperately as she began to kiss him back. But then, as though realising what she was doing, she pulled away from his grasp and fled down the corridor where she pushed her way back into the crowded hall and quickly lost herself amongst the lively dancers.

Chapter 13

After a chilly parting with her grandmother, Abby was quite relieved to board the train to Inglestone, accompanied once again, of course, by Charles who said nary a word the entire trip. She could tell by his silence that he disapproved of her upsetting Lady Claire by leaving London before the season had ended, but Abby could not help it—there was no way she would miss Annie and Harry's wedding. Besides, she now realised that coming to London in order to let her grandmother find a prospective husband for her was a complete waste of time. She did not want the life that was being offered to her. She would rather go home and live as a spinster than suffer a marriage with someone she did not love. If only her grandmother could understand such things. Instead, Lady Claire took it as a personal rejection of her own life and values and for that Abby was truly sorry.

As the train pulled into the Inglestone station, Abby could see her father and mother standing on the platform, arm-in-arm, as they searched the windows of the train hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she left Charles to take care of the bags as she rushed out and into her father's arms before the train had barely stopped moving.

"I am so glad to be home, Papa. Oh, Ma, I've missed you both so much!"

Dorcas hugged her tight. "We've missed you, too, darling. We allhave." Dorcas put special emphasis on the 'all' and Abby hoped it meant what she thought it meant.

Timothy spoke to Charles for a few moments before seeing him to his train back to London and then they were finally on their way to Candleford.

The first person Abby sought out once she had arrived home and had unpacked was Annie. She found her working away in the Pratts' shop as usual and Annie squealed so loudly when she saw Abby that Ruby startled and dropped the bobbin of thread she was holding, causing her to chase it across the floor. Pearl glared at them. "Some decorum, girls, if you please!"

"I'm sorry Miss Pearl," Annie said meekly. Then she giggled as she drew Abby into the back room and closed the door. Pearl and Ruby just shook their heads at one another and rolled their eyes.

"Oh, Abby, I am so happy you're here! I have so much to tell you!"

"And I have so much to tell you, too!" Abby exclaimed.

They spent a happy half hour together whilst Annie told her all about the wedding plans and what Abby could do to help. Then Annie set about fitting Abby for her maid of honour dress.

"Annie," Abby asked as Annie took her measurements, "did Harry ask Sydney to be his best man?"

Annie looked up from her measuring tape. "Yes, he did, Abby. I hope it won't distress you too much. I will completely understand if you would rather not be my maid of honour."

"Oh, Annie, no, I would never do that to you. Of course I won't be distressed. I just wanted to know for sure so I could prepare myself."

Annie stood up and looked seriously at her. "Abby, Harry thinks that Sydney pushed you away because he believed you deserved someone who could offer you a more prestigious life."

"But…But that is ridiculous if that is true!" Abby exclaimed.

"I know, but you know how Sydney is. He is too noble for his own good and would rather suffer himself than cause anyone else to be unhappy."

Abby considered this for a moment and then shook her head. "No, if he truly wanted me then he would have fought for me. He knows that I have always been in love with him."

Annie sighed. "Well, the only way to know for sure is to talk to him. He's been so unhappy since you've been away that Harry called him a miserable git the other day."

"He did? Oh, dear! But even so, I've chased after Sydney long enough. If he wants me then he knows where to find me. I refuse to humiliate myself anymore by throwing myself at him."

Annie studied her friend for a moment. "What about this Lord Jeremy fellow you mentioned in your letters? Could you possibly have feelings for him, too?"

Now it was Abby's turn to sigh as she told Annie about her last encounter with Jeremy. "I feel terrible for running off like I did as he has been really wonderful to me, Annie. I tried so hard to let myself feel something for him, but I just haven't been able to let go of Sydney. I am hopeless, aren't I? I am sure to end up an old maid unless I can get over him."

"You are not hopeless, Abby; you are a woman in love. Of course you couldn't lead Jeremy on when your heart still belongs to another. Talk to Sydney, make him tell you the truth before you both end up miserable and alone for the rest of your lives."

"I've tried talking to him many times before, Annie, but he always ends up pushing me away. Nothing I say or do changes his mind. I would feel like a fool throwing myself at him again."

Annie remained thoughtful as she continued her measuring. "Perhaps once he realises he may truly lose you to someone else it will spur him into action. Saying he wants you to marry someone else is one thing, seeing it actually happen is another. I'll bet if Sydney had been in London and had seen you dancing in Jeremy's arms he would not have been able to stand it."

"But you are assuming that he is in love with me, Annie. I am not convinced that he is."

"Well, then, you owe it to yourself to find out once and for all now, don't you?" Annie said, giving her a little smile. "There, you are properly measured and now I can get to work on your dress. Oh, Abby, I cannot believe I am actually getting married to my dear Harry in just two weeks!"

Abby hugged her friend. "I am so happy for you both, Annie! What a lovely life you will have together. Oh, I almost forgot! I spoke to my parents before I came here, and if you and Harry would approve, we would like to host your wedding reception at the manor! You wouldn't have to worry about a thing as it will be our gift to you."

"Abby! How wonderful of you and your parents! I will speak to Harry and my Ma and Pa about it right away." She hugged her friend once more. "How good it is to have you home again. I've needed my friend to help keep me calm until my wedding day."

Abby laughed. "I will do my best to help you in any way that I can, Mrs Harry Smith!"

Abby knew she should at least say hello to Sydney now that she was home, but she found she was not quite able to bring herself to go into the Post Office just yet. So, instead of passing by the Post Office on her way home, she went in the opposite direction.

As she entered the long drive up to the manor she encountered her father riding in the same direction and looking rather troubled.

"What's the matter, Papa?" she asked.

"What makes you think something is the matter, Abigail?"

"Your brow is furrowed and that is never a good sign."

Timothy chuckled. "I never knew my brow was so telling. It is nothing to concern yourself with, darling. I just had to help my steward get rid of a rather unruly employee, that's all. These things are never pleasant."

"I'm sorry to hear it, Papa."

He looked over at her. "Abigail, I really wish you wouldn't go to town by yourself. I know I have always allowed you your freedom before, but Candleford is not quite the sleepy little town it used to be. I am not so sure it is entirely safe for a beautiful young woman such as you to be out and about all alone."

"Oh, Papa, I assure you I have never felt threatened a day of my life in Candleford. But if it makes you feel any better, I promise to be extra careful from now on."

"Please do, darling. This nasty business with Dixon, who is the man I had to have physically removed from the estate today, has made me realise that even Candleford isn't immune to the baser elements."

She smiled in an effort to make him feel better. "Come, Papa, let's go home and play a game of chess. It has been far too long since we last played. I might even let you win this time!"

"What cheek from my own daughter!" Timothy laughed. "All right, but the last one home has to set up the board."

With that challenge, they both spurred their horses on and raced the rest of the way home.

Sydney did not know whether to feel hurt or relieved that Abby had come home and not yet come to see him. He knew he would see her eventually, as they were both to be in Annie and Harry's wedding party, and he was sure his mother would insist he come to dinner soon, but he still felt as though one of them should at least make the effort to say hello. It had been six and a half months since he last saw her and yet his feelings for her were stronger than ever. He couldn't forget the letter his mother had read to him, though, where Abby sounded quite fond of this Lord Jeremy fellow who fancied himself her protector. Perhaps he should just fade into the background and let her fall in love with this son of an Earl. Yes, that would be the right thing to do for Abby. And should she come to the Post Office to say hello, he would greet her as a brother would greet a sister, no more and no less.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his work, but it did no good. He couldn't keep his mind off her and how it felt to hold her in his arms and kiss her. Maybe it would be best to give the Post Office back to his mother and make his father happy by going to work for him at one of his companies in Manchester. He didn't know if he could stand to stay in Candleford any longer if it meant he had to witness Abby marrying another man who deserved her more than he did.

---

Abby had been home for two days and still had not gone to see Sydney nor did he make an effort to see her. Abby, rather unreasonably, began to accuse Sydney in her mind of not even caring about her anymore. After all, if he had cared about her, he would have rushed to see her the moment she arrived home. Well, if he didn't want to see her then she wasn't going to see him until she absolutely had to.

She had gone to town that very warm Friday afternoon so Annie could complete her second fitting for her dress, and also to help Annie choose the ribbons for the bows that would be placed at the ends of the church pews during the wedding. She was looking down at the ribbons in her hand whilst she walked towards the Pratts' shop, when she nearly tripped over a small mongrel that had darted in front of her. The poor little dog was limping and looked half starved and Abby, with her tender heart, knew she had to help it. She called out to the dog and it stopped and looked back at her, but when she came a bit closer it tucked its tail between its legs and limped quickly away. Abby followed, calling out to it as gently as she could. It stopped again and looked as though it wanted to trust her outstretched hand, but at the last moment it scooted off again just out of her reach. She was halfway down the road when the dog ran down a narrow passageway between the new tavern and the newspaper office. She quickly followed it, but by the time she reached the back of the buildings the dog had disappeared. With a shrug, she turned to leave when she heard something that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" a gravelly voice called out from the shadows.

Abby turned and saw a large, filthy looking man with a face full of stubble stand up and leer at her. She took a step back and started to run for the passageway, but quick as a cat the man lunged at her and grabbed her arm.

"I know who you are," he said as he pushed his face up close to hers. She turned her head as the smell of sour liquor and unwashed body assaulted her nose.

"You're the Squire's daughter. Quite the little princess you are, too, aren't you?" He gave a foul laugh and gripped her arm even tighter. "You know what your dear pappy did to me, princess? Huh?" When she didn't answer he pushed his face even closer to hers. "He gave me the sack, he did. Five years I worked for him and he gives ol' Harley Dixon the sack like it was nothin' at all."

"I…I'm sorry, Mr Dixon," she managed to squeak out, hoping to keep the man calm.

"Sorry?" he exclaimed. He teetered a bit as he continued to leer at her, obviously drunk. "Oh, he'll be sorry all right, chit. He took my job from me, but I'm not going away without gettin' a little somethin' in return." He suddenly shoved Abby against the wall, straddling one her legs between his own, and tried to lift her dress. She began to scream, but he slapped her hard and then clamped his hand over her mouth, pinning her to the wall with his body. Abby struggled as hard as she could, but it only made him laugh. His other hand yanked at the top of her dress until she heard the fabric ripping along her shoulder. Galvanised now by pure fear, Abby brought the leg he was straddling up as hard as she could; connecting with his male anatomy and making him double over with a groan. Taking advantage of his pain, she shoved him as hard as she could and ran for the passageway before he could recover.

She could still hear him cursing at her as she made her way out of the passageway. Sobbing now, she ran blindly down the street as fast as she could.

Sydney happened to look up from the counter in time to see Abby running past the Post Office window in obvious distress. He ran out after her, calling her name, but it was as though she couldn't hear him. Finally, he caught up to her and grabbed her arm to stop her. She was so hysterical that she struck out at him in fear.

"Abby! Abby, stop it! What's wrong?" he cried. Then he saw the red handprint on her face where she had been slapped.

"Oh, my God! Abby, what happened? Who did this to you?" Realising now that it was Sydney who had her she threw herself into his arms and sobbed into his chest.

"Abby, tell me what happened right now!"

She finally was able to choke out a few words, "A man attacked me behind some buildings. Oh, Syd, I was so frightened!"

Sydney's face went deathly white. "What man?" he growled. Then he noticed the tear in her dress and fear filled his heart. "Oh, dear God, Abby, what did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"

He saw Abby wince as he gripped her arm and he immediately took his hand away to see that her arm had been bruised by her attacker. Sydney nearly cried out when he saw the marks on her delicate skin and he pulled her to him, holding her tight. "You have to tell me who did this to you, Abby. Who was it?"

Her voice trembled. "He...He said his name was Harley Dixon and that my father had sacked him."

Sydney brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "I know who he is and I promise you he will not get away with this. Where is he?"

Abby began to cry again. "He was behind the tavern. I was following an injured dog and he grabbed me before I could get away."

"Abby, did he hurt you in any other way? Did he…Did he take advantage of you?" He asked as gently as he could whilst trying to control the trembling rage that was building inside of him.

Abby shook her head. "No. He tried, but I kicked him and pushed him away."

Sydney nodded. "Thank God for that. Come, dear heart, I'm going to take you to Doctor Armstrong so he can make sure you're all right."

He put his arm around her and quickly brought her over to Richard's office where Laura immediately made Abby sit down whilst Sydney explained to Richard what happened. "Make sure Abby stays here until I get back, doctor. I'm going to find Dixon and make him pay for what he's done."

"Oh, please, Sydney, don't go after him! I don't want you to get hurt! Please, I'm all right!" Abby began to cry again and clung to Sydney's arm.

Sydney kissed her cheek and then gently pulled away from her. "Don't worry about me, darling, I can take care of myself. Dixon is the one who needs to be worried."

He waited until Richard and Laura took Abby safely into the examining room and then he ran down the street towards the tavern. He found Dixon emerging from the passageway, only now he was with two of his friends and laughing raucously. Sydney ran up and grabbed the burly man by the shoulder, turning him around to face him before landing a solid punch to his face. Dixon fell to the ground with a grunt.

"Get up!" Sydney roared at him. "Get up, Dixon, you son of a…Get up!" When Dixon just laid there blinking up at him Sydney reached down and yanked him up by his shirt front before punching him again.

The two men who were with Dixon watched in stunned silence before trying to stop Sydney who had just delivered a vicious kick to their prone friend. One of them put his hand on Sydney's shoulder, but Sydney turned on him with such a vicious snarl that both men stepped back and began to walk quickly away.

Dixon managed to get to his feet and wipe the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve. "Dowland, what the hell is the matter with you?"

Sydney grabbed him by the front of his shirt again and slammed him against the wall. "If you ever so much as look in Miss Midwinter's direction again, so help me God, I will kill you, do you understand me?" he hissed through his clenched teeth.

Dixon's eyes opened wide and then he began to laugh. "The Squire's little chit? What's the matter, Dowland, you savin' her for yourself?"

Sydney didn't really know what happened next because a blinding rage took over him and the next thing he knew several men were pulling him away yelling, "That's enough, Dowland, you'll kill him!"

Dixon lay in an unconscious heap on the ground, his eyes were now swollen shut and blood was running out of his nose and mouth.

One of the men holding Sydney back was Robert Timmins, who happened to be on his way to see his daughter Annie when he heard the commotion. "Sydney, what in God's name is going on here? Why were you beating this man?"

Sydney tried to catch his breath and gather his wits. "He attacked Abby, Mr. Timmins. He hurt her," he gasped.

Robert swore under his breath. "All right, go home, Sydney, we'll take care of this. Is Abby all right?"

Sydney nodded. "Yes, thank God. She managed to get away before he could cause any serious harm."

Robert squeezed Sydney's shoulder. "Go take care of her now and let me know if there's anything I can do for her."

"Thank you, sir. And I…I'm sorry. When I saw that Abby had been hurt I just lost my mind."

Robert grunted. "Don't be sorry, son—I would have done the same thing if someone had hurt one of my loved ones. Well done, boy. Now, go on home." He gave Sydney a little shove.

After Sydney left, Robert and one of the other men supported the still unconscious Dixon between them. "Come on, Dixon, let's pay a little visit to the Constable," Robert said as they dragged him away.

Sydney was still shaking with the rush of adrenalin when he arrived back at the clinic where Abby flung herself at him like a small projectile. "Please tell me he didn't hurt you!" she cried.

"No, darling, he didn't hurt me. He's been taken away to the Constable now." He looked over her head at Richard. "Is she all right?"

Richard nodded. "Outside of a few bruises, she's just fine, Sydney. But I think I had better take a look at that hand of yours."

Sydney looked down at his hand to see that his knuckles were bloody and raw. Abby broke into more sobs when she saw that he had indeed been injured.

"Shhh, Abby, it's nothing, I promise," Sydney said as he held her with his other arm and kissed the top of her head. "Dixon just happened to have a very hard head, that's all." Then he looked at Richard. "I had better take her home now; she's still a bit hysterical."

"Let me just clean and bandage your hand first, Sydney, before it gets infected." Richard looked around to his wife. "Laura, please bring me that little brown bottle on the top shelf—the one next to the big blue one—yes, that's it, and a spoon, please."

Laura brought the little bottle over and Richard made Abby drink a spoonful from it. "There, that should help steady your nerves, sweetheart." He gave the bottle to Sydney. "Have her take another spoonful before she goes to bed tonight. It will help her sleep."

Once Richard had patched up Sydney's hand, Sydney quickly took Abby into the Post Office and told Harry to take over for him whilst he took her home in his carriage.

Abby was already becoming a little drowsy as she leaned against his shoulder during the ride home. "Why didn't you come to see me when I came home, Syd?" she asked in a small voice.

"I could ask the same of you, Abbs," he said gently.

"I wanted to…I missed you so much, Siddy…" Her words were beginning to slur and before he could reply she had already fallen asleep.

"I missed you, too, my love," he whispered, as he looked down upon her sleeping head.

Sydney felt rather apprehensive as he carried Abby into the manor, knowing Sir Timothy and his ma were going to be so upset when they heard what had happened. One of the servants ran to find Dorcas whose face was white with worry as she nearly flew down the stairs.

"Sydney! What has happened?" she cried as she placed her hand on Abby's forehead.

"Abby is all right, Ma, I promise. Doctor Armstrong gave her something to help her relax and she's only just fallen asleep. But, please, I need to speak to Sir Timothy. As soon as he is here I will tell you both what happened."

Dorcas ran to Timothy's study whilst Sydney took Abby to her room and laid her gently on her bed. Barely a moment later, he could hear Timothy pounding up the stairs before bursting into the room. "Sydney, what in God's name has happened to my daughter?" he demanded, looking pale and stricken to see Abby lying so still on her bed. Dorcas was right behind him, clutching his arm.

"Please, Sir Timothy, let us go downstairs whilst Abby sleeps and I will tell you and Ma what happened."

They went into the parlour and Sydney told them how Abby had been attacked in town by Dixon, but he quickly assured them that she had not been seriously hurt and that Doctor Armstrong had already examined her to make certain of it.

Timothy covered his face with his hands. "My God, my poor little girl! This is all my fault—I should never have let her go into town by herself when I knew that scum was still around!"

Dorcas took his hand and held it tight. "You couldn't have known this would happen, Timothy. Candleford has always been safe before."

"No," he said, shaking his head with regret, "I should never have let her go out without protection. I can't even bear to think what might have happened to her if she hadn't got away!"

It was then that Dorcas noticed Sydney's bandaged hand. "Sydney, what happened to your hand?"

Sydney sighed. "It's nothing, Ma. I took care of Dixon, that's all. He won't be bothering Abby or anyone else anymore."

"What do you mean you took care of him, Sydney? What did you do?" Timothy asked with growing apprehension.

Sydney looked over at his mother. "Ma, would you mind checking on Abby? I need to speak to Sir Timothy man-to-man, if that is all right with you."

Dorcas frowned with concern at her son, but she finally nodded and left them alone to talk.

Sydney then told Timothy how he had beaten Dixon to within an inch of his life. "If Mr Timmins and the other men hadn't pulled me away, Sir Timothy, I'm afraid Dixon would be dead now. Dixon has been taken to the Constable so I'm sure he's now safely locked away."

Timothy's expression was grim. "As magistrate, I will make sure that Dixon is removed from Candleford and to another gaol. I will not have that animal anywhere near my daughter even if he is locked away."

Sydney nodded and remained silent.

Timothy studied him for a moment. "Son, I am profoundly grateful to you for all you have done to keep my daughter safe, but you should not have faced Dixon alone. You could have been seriously injured, or worse."

Sydney looked up at him and said quite fervently, "I would gladly give my life to keep Abby safe, sir. No one hurts her and gets away with it. No one. Nothing could have stopped me from giving Dixon the beating he deserved."

"Well, I am not going to allow anyone the chance to hurt my daughter ever again. Until she is under the protection of a husband I am assigning one of my men to guard her. He will accompany her wherever she goes. No more will she be traipsing about Candleford unprotected."

Sydney nodded. "I think that is a very good idea, Sir Timothy." He then stood up. "Well, I would like to check on Abby one more time before I go home."

Timothy stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sydney, hank you. Thank you for always looking out for my daughter."

"It is my privilege, Sir Timothy. I love Abby and I will always look out for her no matter where she goes or who she marries."

Timothy was touched by his words and gave him a nod of thanks before they both went upstairs to join Dorcas at Abby's bedside.

---

Sam Bennett was six and half feet tall and well muscled from working with the horses and other livestock on Sir Timothy's grounds for many years. He was fiercely loyal to the Midwinter family, too, and was the logical choice to become Abby's protector. Sam took his duty quite seriously and woe to any man who dared to even look sideways at the daughter of his master.

Abby despaired of him.

The first time she went to town to bring Sydney his favourite biscuits in thanks for taking such good care of her after her ordeal, she was greeted by Harry, who came running up to her as she arrived at the Post Office only to find himself suddenly staring at the ground in a headlock.

"Sam! That is my friend Harry—let go of him at once!" Abby exclaimed whilst trying to pry Sam's steely arms away from Harry's neck.

"Oh, sorry, Miss Midwinter," Sam said as he set Harry upright again and patted him on the back. "Sorry, mister," he apologised to Harry.

"Er…that's all right," said Harry as he felt around his neck to make sure it was still attached to his head.

"Sam, please wait here whilst I go inside the Post Office for a bit. Don't worry, I won't be long," Abby said.

"Right-o, Miss Midwinter. Just shout if you need me." Sam assumed the position of guard dog outside the Post Office whilst Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes at Harry.

"He's a fierce fellow, that Sam. One of your new beaus?" Harry teased as they walked inside.

"Hardly! My father won't let me go anywhere now without Sam to protect me. After what that horrible man Dixon did to me I'm afraid I won't be allowed to go anywhere alone ever again!" she lamented.

Harry nodded. "Well, I can't say as I blame him, Abby. If I had a daughter who was attacked by such a brute as Dixon I wouldn't let her go anywhere alone, either."

"Honestly!" Abby sighed. "Everyone is making such a fuss! After all, Dixon is locked away now and can't hurt me anymore. I don't need Sam following me around everywhere I go."

Sydney came around from the kitchen just then. "Abby! What a nice surprise! Are those for me?" he said as he eyed the plate in her hand.

"Hi, Syd. Yes, I baked your favourite biscuits this morning—just a little thank you for taking care of me yesterday."

"That is very sweet of you, Abbs. I'm just glad I was there for you. How are you feeling today, dear heart?"

"I'm fine, Syd." Abby smiled at him as she handed him the plate.

"You should see her new guard dog, Syd," Harry chimed in as he tilted his head towards the door. "I nearly lost my head a moment ago."

"Guard dog?" Sydney asked, looking puzzled.

"He means Sam, Sydney. Papa gave him the job of accompanying me wherever I go. It's driving me mad!"

Sydney peeked out the window and saw the hulking man standing there glaring at every male who happened to pass by the Post Office. "I must say, Abbs, I feel better knowing Sam is looking out for you. A beautiful woman such as you cannot be too careful these days, unfortunately."

Abby blushed to hear Sydney call her 'beautiful.' "Well, it wouldn't be so bad if he only came with me to town, but he also follows me when I am just outside the manor! I think Papa is overreacting."

Sydney grunted. "Well, when I have a daughter, she won't be going anywhere without at least three Sams following her."

"Poor girl!" Abby replied rather flippantly.

Sydney whirled on her. "Don't make light of this, Abby. You don't know what fear I felt when I saw your bruises and torn dress. It was my worst nightmare coming true. If it were up to me you would never go anywhere alone ever again!"

"I'm sorry, Sydney," Abby said meekly. "It's just frustrating to constantly be followed by someone. I can't even sit under a tree to be alone with my thoughts anymore."

Sydney's eyes softened. "I know it's hard, but it's for your own safety, Abbs. Once you find a husband then you won't need anyone following you around. That will be his job."

Abby winced. So Sydney was still thinking she was going to find someone else to marry, which meant he had no plans to marry her himself. Now she was thoroughly depressed.

"Well, I have to meet Annie over at Laura's now," she said quickly. "Enjoy the biscuits, Syd. Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Abby." Harry waved after her.

Sydney stared at the door after she left. "Did I just say something to upset her?" he asked Harry.

"Gee, Syd, I can't imagine what…unless it was that comment about her finding a husband." Harry rolled his eyes at him.

Sydney looked guilty. "Well, that is the reason for her going to London, isn't it?"

"Whatever you say, Syd. I need to take this package over to the grocer now." Harry grabbed the small parcel and tipped his hat to Sydney before going out the door.

Abby left Sam outside Laura's house as she went inside to join the other ladies who had gathered to help Annie with her wedding preparations. Besides herself and Laura, there was Annie's mother Emma and her next older sister Ethel, who had come from out of town to help her little sister. Today they would be making the bows for the church pews whilst Emma helped Annie finish her wedding dress.

"Abby! Are you all right?" Annie rushed over to her. "I heard about that awful man attacking you yesterday! I couldn't believe it!"

"I'm fine, Annie, just a few bruises, that's all. Dixon is safely locked away now," Abby replied.

Emma shook her head with dismay. "'Tis a terrible thing when a woman cannot feel safe in her own town anymore. I am so relieved you weren't seriously hurt, Abby."

"Thank you, Mrs Timmins. No one will have a chance to hurt me now—Papa has placed Sam as my protector. He's standing outside the door at this very moment."

"I don't blame Sir Timothy a bit, dear. I am relieved my Laura and Ethel have their husbands to look out for them, and now my baby will have dear Harry to watch out for her, too." Emma smiled at her three girls. Don't worry, Abby, you will soon find a husband of your own, I have no doubt of that."

"Perhaps, Mrs Timmins, but I honestly don't know if I will ever marry."

Emma put down her sewing and stared at her. "Abby, of course you will marry. I have no doubt there is someone out there right now waiting for you to make him the happiest man in the world."

Abby remained silent, and stared down at the ribbon in her hands before anyone could see the sudden tears swimming in her eyes.

Emma continued, "You know, dear, Mr Timmins told me how it took three men to pull Sydney away from that Mr Dixon yesterday. He had never seen anyone so wild with anger before. I don't think Sydney would have reacted that way over just anyone."

"Sydney thinks of me as his sister, Mrs Timmins, nothing more," Abby said quietly.

"Are you sure about that, Abby?" Emma asked gently.

Abby nodded sadly. "He's made it quite clear."

"I see." Emma exchanged glances with Annie, but said nothing more.

"Anyway," Abby said quickly, "today is not about me, it is about our Annie, and we are going to make this the most beautiful wedding anyone has ever seen for her, right, ladies?"

"Right!" they all echoed enthusiastically, making Annie blush happily.

The ladies spent a very happy afternoon together, filling themselves with cake and lemonade until Abby jumped up with a start. "Oh, poor Sam! I forgot all about him sitting outside!"

"Here, Abby, give him a slice of cake and some lemonade. It's such a hot day today to be sitting outside."

"Thanks, Annie." Abby quickly took the food outside where Sam still sat upon the stoop, mopping his brow in the warm June sunshine.

"Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. I forgot you were stuck out here. Here, I've brought you some cake and something to drink."

"Thank you, Miss Midwinter, that is most kind," Sam said as he gratefully took the food in hand.

"I'll be just a minute longer, Sam, and then we can go home," she said as she patted him on the shoulder.

"Aye, take your time, Miss Midwinter," he said with a chuckle. "I know how you ladies are when you gather together."

"All the same, I won't be a moment, Sam." Abby hurried back inside and helped Laura clean up the plates and cups and pack the bows they had made in a large box for Annie before saying her goodbyes.

As she and Sam made their way down High Street, Abby spotted Thomas's little Jack Russell, Cassie, trotting down the street, and following not far behind her was the little limping mongrel Abby had seen the previous day. It looked like he had finally found a friend.

---

Margaret Brown frowned at her dog's bowl which was still filled with food. "John, Hannah," she called out to her children, who were playing draughts in the parlour, "have you seen Cassie?"

John shook his head whilst Hannah said, "Not since breakfast, Mother."

"Oh, dear," Margaret said worriedly, "I wonder where she could be. It is not like Cassie to miss her meal!"

Just as she was about to send her children out to find the dog, she heard a scratching sound on the door. She opened it to find Cassie sitting there wagging her little tail, but she wasn't alone. Next to her sat a very dirty mongrel that was hardly any bigger than she was.

"Cassie! Where have you been you naughty girl?" Margaret exclaimed.

Cassie yipped and ran inside, but when the mongrel tried to follow her Margaret shouted, "No! Shoo! Shoo, you filthy beast!"

The little dog huffed and then turned around and began to slowly limp away. It was then that Margaret noticed its ribs were showing through its fur and she suddenly felt terrible. "Oh, dear, what have I done? Come back, little dog!"

The dog didn't even bother to turn around. It was used to being unwanted. "Oh, dear!" Margaret said again. "Cassie! Cassie! Come here, girl." Cassie came right away and looked up at her mistress. "Go get your friend, Cassie. That's a good girl."

Cassie seemed to understand and quickly ran out to the little mongrel and stuck her head under his chin to stop him. Margaret winced to see her immaculately clean little dog rubbing up against such a filthy creature. It would mean a bath for her and for him as well, if she could catch him, that is.

Cassie yipped at her little friend until he finally gave up and followed her reluctantly back. By this time, John and Hannah had come to the door to see what was going on.

"John, run and fetch the leftover sausages from the kitchen and a bowl of water, please," Margaret instructed her son.

John ran to fetch the items and by the time he returned the mongrel had allowed Margaret to pat his head. "Goodness, you are half starved! And look at your paws—you must have travelled a great distance!"

His ears perked up when he smelled the sausage in John's hand and John slowly bent down to hold it out to him. The little dog cautiously approached and then gently took the sausage from the boy's hand before wolfing it down. He eagerly took the second sausage as well and then gratefully lapped at the bowl of water.

"Well, now, I should think that will satisfy your belly for a little while at least!" Margaret smiled down at him.

"Mother, can we keep him?" asked Hannah.

"I think we had best ask your father first, Hannah. Then we shall see. For now, I think we should give him a bath for he shall not enter the house in such a state! Fetch the washing tub, children, and some soap."

The little dog was too tired to resist their bathing attempts too much. They were so gentle with him and spoke so soothingly that he soon began to trust them. When they had finished he gave himself a mighty shake and they all admired how much better he looked without all that dirt on his coat.

"Can I name him, Mother?" John asked.

"I don't see why not, but don't get your hopes up just yet for keeping him until your father gets home," Margaret replied.

John began to dry the dog with an old rag and was rewarded with a lick to his face, making him giggle. "I'm going to call you Jonah," John said to the dog.

Jonah licked John's face again. "I think he likes his new name!" John said happily.

"I think so, too!" Margaret smiled. "Now, we must give Cassie a bath as well."

By the time they had finished, Thomas came home to have both his children rush towards him quite excitedly whilst they both talked at once.

Thomas held up his hand. "One at a time, if you please, children!"

"Oh, Thomas!" Margaret said to her husband. "I think we have a new addition to our family!"

Thomas looked rather shocked. "A new…addition, my dear?" His glance fell on her stomach and she suddenly gasped. "Oh, no, not that kind of addition!"

"It's a new dog, Father!" John piped up. "Please, may we keep him?"

"A new dog?" Thomas asked, looking confused.

The children took him by the hand and pulled him into the parlour where Jonah was sleeping peacefully next to Cassie in a beam of sunlight.

"Well, now," Thomas said as he rubbed his face with his hand. "We don't know if he belongs to anyone, do we?"

"But, Father, he was half starved and so dirty! And he has a limp. I don't think anyone has been taking care of him," Hannah said quickly.

"But still, Hanny dear, he may have been lost," Thomas replied.

Both his children looked at him with such sad faces that he relented a bit. "Well, I will make some enquiries as I make my rounds and then we shall see."

"Yay!" the children cried as they hugged their father.

Margaret came and stood next to her husband. "Thank you, my dear Thomas. We have already become quite attached, I'm afraid!"

Thomas smiled and patted her hand. "He could use a little fattening up, but otherwise he's a fine looking little dog. Our Cassie looks quite content with him, doesn't she?"

They both gazed down at the two little dogs with great fondness. Cassie sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to Jonah whose paws were twitching as he dreamt of his long travels which had finally brought him home.

Chapter 14

Annie and Harry's wedding was now just a week away and Sydney couldn't help but laugh at Harry's already growing nervousness. Harry could be heard giving great sighs, dropping things, stopping in the middle of sentences because he forgot what he was saying, and twice he delivered mail to the wrong house he was so distracted.

"Really, Harry, one would think you are being sentenced to the gallows rather than marrying the woman you love," Sydney teased him.

"What? Oh, not at all, Syd. I cannot wait to marry Annie! It's just this having to stand up in front of the whole town and declare my love to her that is nerve-wracking. I wish we could just run off someplace and have a nice, quiet and simple wedding."

Sydney clasped his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate, it will all be over before you know it and then you can get on with the honeymoon."

Harry's cheeks turned beet red at the mention of the honeymoon, but he grinned just the same. "Yes, now that is what I am looking forward to most of all!"

Sydney laughed and gave him a shove. "Let's hope Annie feels the same way!"

Harry stuck his finger in Sydney's chest. "Watch it, friend. That is my wife of whom you are speaking!"

"Future wife," Sydney corrected him. "She hasn't said 'I will' yet. You never know, another man could come in at the last minute and steal her away!"

"Not a chance," Harry said confidently. "My Annie loves me and only me." He hesitated a moment as he watched his friend. "You know, Syd, if you have feelings for a certain someone you might want to take heed of your own words. A woman like Abby isn't going to stay unattached for long."

Sydney suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I want Abby to have the best life possible, you know that."

Harry shook his head at him. "You seem to have confused riches with happiness, Syd. You had better get that straight before it's too late."

Sydney was glad when a customer came in at that moment to interrupt them. Harry had rounds to make anyway, so he grabbed his postbag and headed out the door.

A few moments later, a very expensive looking carriage stopped in front of the Post Office and a well-dressed man stepped out of it. He glanced up and down High Street for a moment before making his way into the Post Office.

"Can I help you, sir?" Sydney asked politely.

The man removed his hat and eyed Sydney rather speculatively. "I am assuming you are the Postmaster?" he said as he looked lazily about the room.

"I am," Sydney replied. "I am Sydney Dowland. Is there something I can do for you?"

"You can direct me to Sir Timothy Midwinter's manor, if you would be so kind," the man replied.

Sydney narrowed his eyes at the handsome young man who seemed determined to appear haughty. "And who might you be, may I ask?"

The man's eyes fixed on Sydney's. "I am Jeremy Harwell. Lord Jeremy Harwell."

Sydney stiffened. "I see."

"So you've heard of me," Jeremy said with a hint of amusement.

"I've heard mention of you…once," Sydney replied.

"Good. Then you will direct me to the manor?"

Sydney, feeling an intense dislike for Jeremy growing quickly inside him, gave him the directions he needed with reluctance. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked as Jeremy continued to stand there staring at him.

Jeremy finally shook his head and put his hat back on. "No, that is all." With that he turned away and headed for the door. Then he stopped, turned around and came back to the counter again. "I lied. There is something you can do for me."

"And that is?" Sydney sighed.

"Release whatever hold you have on Miss Midwinter."

Sydney's brow suddenly darkened. "I don't have a hold over Miss Midwinter."

"I beg to differ. I plan to make Miss Midwinter my wife, you see, but you are standing in the way."

"I don't see how I could possibly be standing in the way of her marrying you."

"I see you are going to make me have to spell it out for you. She thinks she is in love with you and she won't commit to me until she is over you. Now, I don't care what you have to do to make her fall out of love with you, just as long as you do it." Jeremy then looked around with disgust at their surroundings. "You and I both know that Miss Midwinter deserves much better than to spend the rest of her life living in a...a Post Office, of all places."

"I think you had better leave now," Sydney growled.

"With pleasure. Just remember what I said, Mr Dowland."

With that he turned and exited the building, leaving Sydney standing there with his hands balled into fists and a strong desire to pound Jeremy Harwell's smug face into mincemeat.

---

The only way Abby was going to get any time to herself so she could think was to stay in her own room. If she stepped even a toe outside the door of the manor Sam was immediately by her side. Sometimes she went into Clarissa's room and stood before her portrait telling her all the woes of her heart. It somehow made her feel better.

Timothy, meanwhile, was in his study when his butler came in to tell him there was someone there to see him.

"Who is it, Wilkins?" Timothy asked.

"He said his name is Lord Harwell, Sir Timothy."

"Ah," Timothy said as he sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "Send him in."

The butler immediately showed Jeremy into the study. "Sir Timothy," he said as he extended his hand, "it is good to see you again."

"Lord Harwell," Timothy gave his hand a brief shake before indicating for him to sit. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Please, just call me Jeremy. I have come on an urgent matter of the heart," he said.

"An urgent matter of the heart…" Timothy echoed with raised eyebrows. "Sounds serious."

"It is," Jeremy replied, looking as serious as he sounded as he stood up and said quite formally, "I have come to ask your permission to court your daughter."

Timothy blinked at him. "You wish to court Abigail?"

"Yes, sir, if she will have me, that is."

"And do you have reason to believe she wishes for you to court her?" Timothy asked, looking rather sceptical.

Jeremy hesitated a moment. "I have reason to believe there is something between us, yes."

"I see."

Timothy stood up and clasped his hands behind his back as he strolled over to the window. He said nothing for several moments. Finally, he turned to face Jeremy. "Young man, I have no objection to you courting my daughter if that is what she wants. I would never force her into a marriage she wasn't agreeable to, nor would I discourage her from marrying a man she truly loved and who truly loved her. My wish is for her to have the happiest marriage possible."

"I wish that for her, too, Sir Timothy."

Timothy regarded him a moment longer. "I am going to leave the decision up to Abigail, Jeremy, although I do appreciate you coming to me first."

"Thank you, Sir Timothy. May I see Abby now?"

Timothy signaled for his butler. "Wilkins, please tell Abigail she has a visitor."

Wilkins bowed and quickly left to fetch Abby.

Abby was surprised to hear she had a visitor. If it was one of her Candleford or Lark Rise friends they were usually sent straight up to her room without any preamble. "Who is it, Wilkins?" she asked curiously.

"A Lord Harwell, Miss Midwinter. He is waiting for you in your father's study."

Abby gave a start. "Jeremy is here?" she squeaked. "What on earth is he doing here?" Her stomach suddenly was tied in a knot as she followed Wilkins downstairs, remembering what had happened during their last encounter. She should not have been surprised that he followed her.

Jeremy stood up as she entered the room and gave her a smile. "Abby, I am so happy to see you again." He reached out and took her hand to give it a kiss.

"Lord Jeremy, what are you doing here?" Abby asked, looking rather nervously at her father whose expression was suddenly inscrutable.

Jeremy's eyes were fixed on hers. "Well, we didn't get a chance to say a proper goodbye before and I couldn't wait for you to return to London before seeing you again."

"Oh," was all Abby could think of to say.

"You are happy to see me, aren't you?" Jeremy asked, looking a little worried.

She took his hand. "Excuse us, Papa, Jeremy and I need to talk….outside."

Timothy nodded and watched as Abby dragged Jeremy out the door and into the courtyard where Sam immediately came forward and glared at Jeremy.

"It's all right, Sam," Abby said. "This is Lord Jeremy Harwell. Lord Jeremy, this is Sam, my…er…protector."

"How do you do," Jeremy said to the hulking man. Sam just narrowed his eyes at him and Abby could have sworn she heard him growl.

"Thank you, Sam, I will be quite safe with Lord Jeremy," Abby said to him.

Sam glared at Jeremy for a moment longer before reluctantly walking away.

"Charming fellow," Jeremy said wryly. "Why on earth do you need a protector out here?"

Abby shook her head. "It's a long story. Now, Jeremy, why are you here?"

He took her hands in his. "I missed you, Abby, and we need to talk. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss…about us. And then you left so abruptly that night…"

"Jeremy, I told you I wasn't ready to be in a relationship with you," Abby said in a low voice.

"No, you said you weren't ready to love anyone else," Jeremy replied.

"It's the same thing."

"Not at all," he said stubbornly. "I'm not asking you to love me, I'm asking you to give me a chance to prove myself to you. I want…I want to court you, Abby. I have already asked your father's permission."

Abby stared at him in disbelief. "You've asked my father? What did he say?"

"He said he was going to leave it up to you." Jeremy reached out and grasped her arms. "Please, Abby, all I am asking for is a chance."

Abby pulled away from him and stepped back. "Jeremy, please go home. I can't do this right now."

Jeremy was starting to look angry. "Is it because of him? Your Mr Dowland? I've just had a word with him, you know."

Abby's stomach lurched. "You've spoken to Sydney? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I had to, Abby. I had to know what I was up against. I told him my intentions and he said he wouldn't stand in my way."

Abby felt her heart twist and suddenly she felt as though she was going to be sick. "He said that?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Abby, but there it is. And once you realise you are wasting your time with him I am going to be right here waiting for you."

Abby backed away from him again and shook her head. "I…I can't do this right now. Please, Jeremy, go back home. We can talk when I am back in London after next weekend. Right now the only thing I want to concentrate on is Annie's wedding."

Jeremy didn't budge.

"Please, Jeremy! Go home!" she pleaded once again.

Jeremy sighed and shook his head sadly. "I will leave you alone for now, Abby, but I am not going home to London. I have a room at the Golden Lion Hotel should you change your mind."

With that he turned and got into his carriage. "I'm not giving up on you, Abby!" he called out as the carriage pulled away.

Abby's lower lip trembled as she fought to hold back her tears. She turned towards the house and saw her father watching her from the window. She took a deep breath and went back inside.

"Abigail," Timothy called out to her as she started up the stairs, "come here, please. I wish to have a word with you."

Abby followed him to his study where he closed the door behind them and made her sit down.

"Tell me the truth, Abigail. Do you have feelings for Lord Harwell?" he asked gently.

Abby stared at the carpet beneath her feet and then slowly shook her head. "I am fond of him, Papa, but I am not in love with him."

Timothy leaned against his desk and crossed his arms in front of him. "But there is someone else you do have feelings for, isn't there?"

Tears began to swim in Abby's eyes as she nodded her head. "But it doesn't matter because he doesn't love me and never will!" she cried out. "I might as well marry Jeremy even if I don't love him. I could do a lot worse and at least Jeremy seems to care for me."

Timothy's eyes flashed and suddenly he was kneeling before her and grasping her hands. "Darling, I will not stand here and let you make the same mistake that I made when I first married. I married out of anger and spite because I believed the woman I loved didn't love me back. But I was wrong, so very wrong! I found out only after it was too late that she loved me all along, but was keeping her distance to protect my reputation and my future. The only thing that came from it was three very unhappy people and I will regret that for the rest of my life."

Abby looked at him. "You and Ma…" she said quietly.

"Yes," he replied. "Only by the grace of God did we find each other again. I believe Sydney loves you, darling. He's just convinced you would be better off with the Lord Harwell's of this world rather than with him."

"But how will I ever know for certain when he refuses to admit it, Papa?" Abby sobbed as she buried her face in his chest.

Timothy held her tight. "You must make him tell you, darling. Don't give up, and whatever you do, don't do something you will regret for the rest of your life like marrying Lord Harwell. Please, darling, don't repeat your father's past mistakes."

Abby's shoulders continued to shake as she cried. "I love him so much, Papa. I always have! Why can't he accept that?"

Timothy stroked her hair. "He thinks he's doing the right thing, darling, and that is what makes him such an admirable fellow and one whose neck I would like to throttle at the same time."

Abby couldn't help but laugh a little at her father's words. "I guess you and I have a lot in common, don't we, Papa?"

Timothy smiled. "We do indeed, darling, only you have the advantage of learning from my mistakes. You are young, Abigail, and have plenty of time to choose a husband. Promise me you won't rush into any decisions out of anger or sadness. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, I promise, Papa," Abby said and then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for being here for me."

"I am always here for you, darling, you know that."

Abby nodded and then returned to her room to think whilst Timothy stayed in his study for a long time, praying his daughter would heed his words and not let Lord Harwell persuade her otherwise.

---

Abby found herself in front of Clarissa's portrait again, gazing up at her benevolent face. "What should I do, Clarissa?" she asked. "Should I let Sydney go and give Jeremy a chance?"

Clarissa stared down at her and Abby could have sworn she heard the words "Have faith" echoing in her mind as though placed there by a disembodied spirit.

"I want to, but it's so very hard," Abby replied to the imagined voice as she wiped away her tears with the back of her sleeve. She stood there a while longer and then felt the sudden urge to get away from the confines of the house and to a place where she could think, far away from any other people. She thought of her lovely little lake and what a peaceful haven it had always been for her. After all, the day was quite warm and humid so perhaps a nice swim was exactly what she needed to help clear her mind. The question was, how could she get rid of Sam long enough to go for a swim?

After thinking for a bit, Abby decided to sneak out of the house before Sam could see her. She crept down the servants' stairway and was out the door and halfway across the lawn before she heard Sam's loping gait behind her.

"Where are you going, miss?" Sam called out breathlessly.

Abby sighed. "Just for a walk, Sam, I'm sure I'll be fine. You needn't go with me."

"Oh, no, miss, I'm sorry, but I cannot let you do that. No, I will accompany you wherever you wish to go."

Abby tried to think of what to do until finally she came up with a plan. "All right, Sam, I think I will take a nice walk into town."

Sam looked up at the blazing sun and mopped his brow. "Fine, miss," he said a little less enthusiastically.

They trudged across a few meadows before finally making their way to High Street. "I'm just going into the Pratts' shop to say hello to Annie," Abby said to Sam who agreed to wait outside for her. He, of course, had no idea that Annie was no longer working there. Abby went inside and said hello to Pearl and Ruby and then made an excuse as to why she needed to use their back door. The ladies shrugged, so busy were they with their dressmaking, and waved her on. Abby slipped out and ran quickly behind the buildings until she was out of town before Sam could even suspect a thing.

By the time she reached the little lake her face was flushed red from the heat and she could feel perspiration trickling down her body. After a quick look around to be assured there wasn't a soul in sight, she took off all her clothes and hid them behind a large rock where no one could spot them even if they were to come down to the lake.

Despite the heat of the day, the water was still quite cold and it took several minutes before she could plunge herself fully into the lake. She swam a few laps until her body finally acclimated to the temperature of the water. It felt glorious to rid herself of the heat and sweat and once she tired of swimming laps she turned and floated on her back so she could stare up at the sky and let her mind free itself of any and all thoughts of Sydney Dowland and Jeremy Harwell.

Sam, meanwhile, was beginning to get restless thinking Abby had been inside the shop quite a long time. He was hot and miserable and wanted to go home. He waited a few minutes longer and then went inside.

Pearl and Ruby looked up at him with surprise. "What do you want?" Pearl asked rather rudely.

"Pardon me, miss, but I've come to see if Miss Midwinter's visit with Miss Timmins is nearly over."

"Miss Timmins?" Pearl said blankly. "Miss Timmins no longer works here."

Sam looked perplexed. "But Miss Midwinter said she came to see Miss Timmins. Isn't she still here?"

Pearl and Ruby looked at each other. "No, Miss Midwinter came through here ages ago, but quickly left out our back door."

Sam swore under his breath and after a nod of thanks to the ladies, ran out the door. He ran all over Candleford looking for Abby, making sure to check all the back alleys before finally thinking of the Post Office.

Sydney looked up as Sam came bursting through the door. "Sam, what is it?"

"Mr Dowland, sir, is Miss Midwinter here with you?" he asked desperately.

"No, Sam, Abby isn't here. Why do you ask?"

Sam swore again. "I'm afraid she gave me the slip, Mr Dowland. I can't find her anywhere! What am I going to do? Sir Timothy is surely going to sack me if I don't find her right quick!"

Sydney came around from the counter. "Calm down, Sam. I'll help you find her. Where did you last see her?"

"She said she was going to visit Miss Timmins at the dressmaker's shop, so I waited outside for her. But, sir, that was over an hour ago and the Miss Pratts said she left through the back door!"

"All right, Sam, here's what we'll do. You continue searching the town and I'll take my horse into the countryside. I'm sure she can't have gone far."

"Thank you, Mr Dowland," Sam said gratefully as he mopped his brow again.

Sydney patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Sam, we'll find her."

Sam hurried out the door and Sydney found Harry to watch over the Post Office whilst he went to search for Abby. As he saddled his horse he tried to think to where Abby might have escaped. As he continued to think, the heat of the sun beat down on him and he absently unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. It was then that it occurred to him where Abby might have gone. He quickly mounted his horse and spurred it on until he was nearly flying over the countryside.

Abby turned lazily in the water and swam a few more laps. This was exactly what she had needed and already she was beginning to feel her troubles slipping away. With renewed energy, she began to swim more vigourously and never heard the sound of the approaching horse as it neared the banks of the lake.

Sydney jumped down from his horse as he arrived at the lake and tied it to a tree. Then he ran down a small embankment and scanned the water. He saw nothing at first, save some ripples expanding across its surface. Disappointment shot through him as he was sure he would have found her there.

Abby, meanwhile, had gone underwater, enjoying the way the cool water flowed through her hair and cooled her scalp. Finally, she ran out of breath and popped her head above water, flipping the hair from her face and wiping the water from her eyes. She was facing into the lake so did not see Sydney who had startled at the sight of her suddenly emerging from the lake like a water nymph.

She found her footing and backed out of the water until it was only knee-deep before finally turning around and gasping with fright to see someone standing on the lake's edge. Her arms immediately flew up to cover herself until she realised it was Sydney who was watching her. He stood transfixed and his mouth fell open as though he was about to say something, but words never came. Their eyes locked and he took an involuntary step forward as she came further out of the water. Her chin then lifted almost defiantly as she let her arms fall to her side, wanting him to see her.

Sydney tried to keep his eyes on hers, but, like any normal, red-blooded male, he could no longer resist the temptation. His eyes travelled the length of her body, taking in the perfect globes of her breasts and the tantalizing curves of her hips. She was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful and he suddenly feared he was about to lose all control and take her right then and there in the shallow depths of the water.

Abby's chest began to heave as she held her hand out to him, silently pleading for him to join her, and it was all he could do not to give in to the temptation. With a strength he did not know he possessed, he managed to slide his eyes away from hers and finally break the current that was electrifying them both.

"Get dressed," he said in a hoarse voice as he quickly turned his back to her to give her some privacy.

Abby felt as though she had been slapped. Suddenly, she hated him—a burning, searing hate that nearly blinded her with rage as she made her way to the rock to retrieve her clothes.

Sydney went and stood behind a tree, leaning against it as he tried to control the ghastly desire that was coursing through his body. He found his hands were shaking and he would have given anything for some relief from the terrible ache not only within his physical being but within his heart. He tried to occupy his mind with trivial things, anything to keep his mind off the incredible vision that had stood before him. Abby. His Abby. Only she wasn't his Abby any longer, was she? She was destined for Lord Harwell, instead. He found the best way to reverse his desire was with anger; anger at her for putting herself in such danger. By the time she had finished dressing, he was ready to give her a good tongue lashing.

He stood there with his arms crossed as she quickly walked past him without even looking at him.

"What were you thinking coming out here all alone like this?" he said to her retreating form. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if the likes of Dixon had found you here instead of me? Do you?"

Abby continued to ignore him as she walked quickly in the direction of the manor. Sydney ran after her and grabbed her arm to make her stop. The feel of her bare skin burned through him, hotter than any sun, and he quickly let go of her lest he begin to lose control again. "Look at me, Abby. What is wrong with you? Sam is nearly sick with worry!"

Abby glared up at him with unabashed fury. "Damn you, Sydney Dowland! Damn you!" she shouted as she shoved him away and began running towards the manor.

Sydney let her go knowing if he were to touch her again, there would be no turning back.

Chapter 15

Abby was finished with Sydney. In fact, she would be quite happy if she never had to see him ever again. She had had enough. She would have to see him one more time at Annie and Harry's wedding and then she could return to London and stay there—far away from Candleford and the Post Office—and him. There was only so much rejection a girl could take before it was time to move on once and for all.

Two days before the wedding, Abby rode into town to meet with Annie and Laura for lunch so they could go over the final details of the wedding. Ben accompanied her this time instead of Sam since Ben wanted to visit with Laura's sons for the day. Abby found the girls standing outside of Laura's home and chatting as they enjoyed the warmth of the summer day.

"Abby!" Annie greeted her. "I haven't seen you for days! Is everything all right?"

Abby slid down from her horse and hugged the girls. "I'm fine, Annie. The important question is how are you feeling? Getting nervous for the wedding?"

"A little," Annie admitted with a blush. "Laura was just telling me that I probably won't remember a thing as it will all go by in a blur."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Abby asked Laura with a chuckle.

"A bit of both, I'm afraid," Laura laughed. Then she put her arm around her sister. "Don't worry, Annie-Banannie, you will get through it just fine. Once you see your Harry standing there at the altar you will forget everything else and will only focus on him. It is going to be wonderful." She gave her a squeeze. "Oooh, I cannot believe my baby sister is getting married!"

Annie shivered with excitement and then they all burst into giggles.

"Abby?" a masculine voice called out, making the giggles stop abruptly. Laura and Annie looked up to see a very handsome and well dressed young man approaching from across the street.

"Who on earth is that?" Annie whispered.

Abby turned around and felt her insides jump to see Jeremy standing behind her. He gave her a little bow.

"Jeremy, why are you still here?" she said rather ungraciously.

"Hello, Abby. I told you I was going to stay here until you changed your mind." He looked over at Annie and Laura. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your lovely friends?"

"Oh, forgive me. Annie, Laura, this is Lord Jeremy Harwell. He is a…a friend of mine from London. Lord Jeremy, this is my best friend Annie Timmins and her sister Laura Armstrong."

Jeremy kissed each of the girls' hands. "It is a great pleasure to meet you both. And may I offer my congratulations on your upcoming wedding, Miss Timmins?"

Annie blushed. "Thank you, Lord Harwell."

"Please, call me Jeremy," he said with his most winning smile. "And please excuse me, ladies; I would just like a quick word with Abby, if I may."

Abby looked a bit flustered. "Jeremy, I am sorry, but Annie, Laura and I really need to finish some details for the wedding. Can we speak later, perhaps?"

"Of course, I am so sorry to have intruded. May I wish you every happiness in your marriage, Miss Timmins." He tipped his hat to her and then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Annie stopped him. "Lord… er… Jeremy, if you are staying here in town you would be more than welcome to attend my wedding. It is this Saturday morning at the church and then we will be having our wedding breakfast at Sir Timothy's manor."

Annie ignored Abby's frantic looks of protest and continued to focus on Jeremy.

Jeremy smiled at her. "How very kind of you. I would be delighted and honoured to attend, Miss Timmins." He glanced over at Abby and looked almost amused at her obvious discomfiture. "Perhaps you would allow me to escort you to the wedding, Abby?"

"Oh, well, I'm afraid I…I…" She hesitated to find an excuse, but then suddenly realised that the best way to show Sydney she was over him was to be seen with another man. How surprised he would be to see her escorted to the wedding by Lord Jeremy!

"Er…yes, you may escort me to the wedding, Jeremy, thank you."

He grinned at her. "I am very much looking forward to it." Then he gave the ladies another little bow before crossing the street back to the hotel.

Abby whirled on her friend. "Why on earth did you invite him, Annie?"

Annie just smiled enigmatically and linked her arm through hers. "I think it will do Sydney good to see you with another man, don't you?"

"I don't care what Sydney thinks anymore. I doubt he will care one way or the other, anyway."

Annie exchanged glances with Laura. "Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

The three girls then went inside to have their lunch. Not one of them had noticed Sydney standing by the forge next to the Post Office with his hands balled into fists, as he watched them speaking with Lord Jeremy.

Sydney hadn't been able to sleep a wink ever since his encounter with Abby at the lake. He couldn't get the image of her standing in the water out of his mind and it was nearly driving him mad. What a fool he had been to think he could keep pushing her away, believing he was doing the right thing by doing so. It was no good. He wanted her, and to see her speaking with Lord Jeremy was killing him. Perhaps he had been wrong to think she would be happier living a different life than what he could offer her. Her anger with him at the lake proved that her feelings for him were just as strong as ever. He knew that she wanted him, but he was so used to playing the responsible adult looking out for the girl he had always protected as a sister that he just couldn't accept the possibility that he could really have her, make her his wife—until death would they part.

He looked about the Post Office, remembering the many times she had stood with him behind the counter, worked with him, teased him, and simply loved him. He wanted her there again, standing by his side, his companion for life and for love, eventually filling the Post Office with their children. He smiled as he imagined never being without her ever again, never sleeping alone another night in his life, making love to her and holding her in his arms during the long, cold winter nights…

"Sydney?"

Sydney started and saw his mother standing there looking at him with amusement. He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Ma, I'm afraid you caught me daydreaming."

"I can see that. And judging by the look on your face, it was a happy daydream indeed," she said, giving him that knowing look of hers.

"Yes, well, what can I do for you, Ma?"

"Nothing, dear, I just wanted to say hello and see how you are getting on."

"Getting on?"

Dorcas continued to study him. "Yes, son, with the fact that Lord Jeremy Harwell is here to court our Abigail."

"Oh, him," Sydney said dismissively. "I don't know what she sees in that arrogant, smug-faced…"

"Sydney," Dorcas interrupted him by placing her hand on his arm, "you know it's not Lord Jeremy that Abby wants. Don't you think it's time for you to tell her how you really feel?"

The image of Abby sleeping in his arms, bouncing their baby on her knee, laughing with him behind the counter, plagued his imagination once more. "Yes," he replied softly.

Dorcas squeezed his arm. "Oh, darling, how wonderful!"

Sydney covered his mother's hand with his own and sighed. "I just hope I can make her happy, Ma…that I will be enough for her."

Dorcas caressed his cheek. "You are going to make her deliriously happy, my boy. Of that, I have no doubt. Oh, Sydney, to see my children achieve their hearts' desire is the greatest joy!"

He smiled at her. "Well, it hasn't happened yet, Ma. I think she's extremely angry with me at the moment. In fact, I think she hates me more than loves me right now."

"Nonsense, darling, don't waste another moment. Go and get her, son." Dorcas nodded encouragingly at him.

Sydney felt a sudden happiness flood through him as he gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Perhaps I will!"

He took a deep breath and then headed out the door to Laura's house, hoping that Abby would still be there. Instead, he came outside just in time to see Abby riding away on her horse—only she wasn't alone. Beside her was Lord Jeremy, and he must have said something very amusing to her for she suddenly threw her head back and laughed out loud. Then Sydney saw Lord Jeremy reach for Abby's hand and kiss it before they both spurred their horses on and raced out of town, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

---

When Dorcas arrived home from the Post Office Timothy came up and took her in his arms, kissing her softly before looking into her eyes. "You look troubled, darling, what is it?"

Dorcas sighed. "It's those children of ours, Timothy. Sydney was finally ready to declare himself to Abigail only to find her riding off with Lord Harwell. You should have seen the look on his face—it nearly broke my heart."

Timothy kissed her again. "Try not to worry, darling. I have no doubt of Abigail's love for Sydney. I think she is just acting out with young Jeremy. And rest assured, my love, I would far rather see Abigail marry Sydney than that ne'er do well Jeremy Harwell. I don't care if he is the son of an Earl."

Dorcas smiled lovingly at him. "I had told Sydney ages ago that I knew you would not object to Abigail marrying him even though he hasn't a title or a large inheritance."

"Of course I don't object. Sydney has always been a very fine lad and has always been very kind and loving to my daughter. I hope I have never given him reason to believe I would object," Timothy said, looking rather troubled at the thought.

"No, you never did any such thing, Timothy. It was Sydney who placed such doubts upon himself."

Timothy sighed. "I wish he wouldn't sell himself so short. He has always been a hard worker; he owns two thriving businesses and stock in his father's companies. I have every faith in him. And Abigail has her own sizable inheritance from her mother as well as what I have put aside for her dowry. She is a wealthy young woman in her own right. They will live quite comfortably—and quite happily, I should say, as it is obvious they love each other so fiercely. Reminds me of another couple I know…." He smiled down at her.

Dorcas gave him a kiss. "Perhaps if you could tell him what you just told me, darling, it would help him realise this for himself."

"If you think that would help, I will have a word with him when I see him at Annie's wedding."

Dorcas rested her head on his chest. "Oh, Timothy, if Abigail and Sydney could be as happy as we are, I should be very content indeed."

"They will be, darling, I am certain of it."

Sydney was now imagining ten different ways to separate Jeremy Harwell's head from his shoulders. Every time he thought of Jeremy taking Abby's hand, or having the audacity to kiss her, his blood began to boil. But even he realised that he could blame no one but himself for the current predicament he was in. If he was to be honest, he couldn't blame Abby one bit for attaching herself to another man. If he wanted to win her back, which he desperately did, then he was going to have to prove himself to her. If she wouldn't see him tomorrow then she would have to see him at the wedding the day after. And if she wouldn't listen to him then he would just pick her up bodily and throw her over his shoulder until she had no choice. He smiled to himself as he imagined doing just that—carrying her away to a secluded spot and ravishing her until any and all thoughts of Jeremy Harwell were wiped clean from her mind.

"Hellooo, Syd!" Harry was saying as he waved his hand in front of Sydney's eyes.

"Oh, sorry, Harry, I didn't see you come in," Sydney said.

"I can see that. You were a million miles away! Let me guess what it was you were thinking about…or should I say whom."

Sydney shook his head as though trying to clear his mind. "Never mind what I was thinking about. Did you get your suit for the wedding?"

Harry smiled. "I did. There will be a collective sigh of regret from all the single ladies out there once they see me in it, I am that handsome."

Sydney snorted. "Does Annie know that you suffer from delusions?"

Harry gave him a playful shove. "Did you get your suit, Best Man?"

"Yes, I did. My only fear is once Annie sees me in it she will want to leave you at the altar and marry me instead."

Harry took a swing at Sydney who ducked and laughed.

"Now who's delusional?" Harry said. "Say, what time are we meeting at the tavern tonight? Are all the lads going to be there?"

"Eight o'clock and, yes, Robert, Richard, Alf, Edmund and Frank will all be there to celebrate your last moments of freedom."

Harry rubbed his hands together. "And free pints for the groom, right?"

Sydney rolled his eyes. "Yes, free pints for the doomed man."

Harry chuckled. "Marrying Annie is not a doom, my friend. You should be so lucky."

"Yes, I should be so lucky…" Sydney echoed wistfully.

Later that night, windows lit up all down High Street as Harry and Sydney staggered their way home, singing ballads at the top of their voices.

"Shhhh!" Richard and Robert hissed as they tried to support the two young men who had nearly drowned themselves with ale and cider—one with joy and the other with an aching heart.

"I'll see to Harry getting home if you can handle Sydney, Richard," Robert said to his son-in-law.

"I'll handle Sydney just fine," Richard replied and began to pull Sydney towards the Post Office whilst Robert continued down the street with Harry.

"What on earth is all that caterwauling?" Pearl Pratt cried out with indignation from her bedroom window. Her hair bristled with cloth-wrapped curls as she squinted down on Richard and Sydney below.

"I'm sorry, Miss Pearl!" Richard said in a loud whisper. "The lads were celebrating a little too much over the upcoming wedding!"

"Hmmph!" Pearl grunted. "Some people have no consideration for others!"

"Good night, Miss Pearl," Richard sighed and hurried to get Sydney inside the Post Office just as Pearl slammed her window shut.

"Come on, Sydney, let's get you into bed. Oh, I don't envy you when you wake up tomorrow morning!" Richard managed to hoist him up the stairs and flop him down on his bed whilst he proceeded to remove Sydney's shoes.

Sydney mumbled something.

"What's that, Syd?" Richard leaned closer so he could hear.

Sydney started to sing another ballad and then he stopped abruptly and stared at Richard. "I want my Abbs, doc. Where is she?" he said thickly.

Richard patted him on the shoulder. "She's sound asleep and safe in her bed, Syd, as should you be…Asleep, I mean, not in her bed."

Sydney groaned and held his head. "I should like to be in her bed. Oh, God, I love her so. I think I had better tell her right now before…before…" He tried to sit up, but Richard pushed him back down again.

"I think you had better go to sleep now, Syd, before you get yourself into anymore trouble. I will check on you in the morning."

Richard shook his head as he left a full glass of water on Sydney's nightstand and a small, empty basin next to it in case he was sick in the night. Sydney wasn't used to drinking so it was bound to hit him hard. Then he waited until Sydney was safely asleep and snoring before quietly making his way out the door and home to his waiting wife.

---

Sydney awakened the next morning feeling as though shards of glass were shooting through his eyes as the sunlight from the window shone on his face. He went to stand up so he could pull the curtains closed, but that only made his head pound mercilessly which, in turn, made him feel perilously close to being sick. It took him a moment to remember what had happened the night before and then he fell back on his bed groaning as he tried to keep his head from splitting apart. The light tapping that came on his door seemed magnified tenfold as he held his head and croaked, "Come in."

Richard peered around the door and smiled as he saw Sydney grasping his head. "I thought you would be feeling a bit poorly this morning," he said as quietly as he could.

"No need to shout!" Sydney grimaced, and then was sick in the basin.

Luckily, Richard had brought a bucket with him and quickly placed it in front of Sydney. "I think you had better use this instead."

"Th-Thanks, doctor," Sydney said shakily.

Richard looked pitying at him. "I'm going to make you some strong coffee and then we are going to get you up and walking around."

Sydney groaned. "Don't bother; I think I'm going to die anyway."

"You're not going to die, Syd, you only just feel like it. You'll be feeling better in a few hours. In the meantime, I'm going to send one of my sons to the manor to bring Lady Dorcas here so she can open the Post Office for you."

Sydney groaned again. "The Post Office! I can't possibly….oh, why did you let me drink so much last night?"

"I tried to stop you, but you weren't having any of it. You insisted a man should be allowed to drown his sorrows in peace."

Sydney peered blearily up at him. "I said that?"

"Yes, you did. Maybe this will be a lesson to you that drowning your sorrows is never the answer to any problem."

"I'm never going to drink again, period," Sydney vowed as he was sick again in the bucket.

Whilst the coffee was brewing, Richard ran back home and sent his middle son David on his way to the manor to fetch Dorcas.

"Poor Sydney!" Laura said as Richard told her how Sydney was feeling. She watched as he stirred together a strange concoction of ingredients in a large glass, wrinkling her nose as she did so.

"You're not seriously thinking Sydney will drink that, are you?" she said.

"Trust me, love, it will make him feel better." Richard smiled at his wife.

Laura looked dubiously at him. "Well, you are the doctor! Tell Sydney that I'm sorry I can't help him out today. Ma, Ethel, Abby and I are going to be baking all day for the wedding tomorrow. It is so kind of Sir Timothy and Lady Dorcas to supply the main breakfast and the wine, but Ma insisted on making her pies and we girls will be making the cake and other pastries."

Richard nodded. "What a feast we shall have! Annie is a lucky girl to have so many people who love her. What a special day it will be for her and Harry."

Laura put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Just like our wedding was," she whispered and then smiled up at him in a way that made his heart beat faster.

"Mmm….don't start that," Richard said as he reluctantly pulled away, "or poor Sydney will never get this miracle tonic today!"

Laura laughed. "Go on, then, and cure our Postmaster. We can continue this later."

Richard grinned at her. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

"Oh, dear!" Dorcas exclaimed after David delivered his message. "Thank you, David, I will come immediately."

Dorcas rode to the Post Office as quickly as she could. Already Thomas and a few customers were waiting outside the door, looking puzzled as to why it was still closed.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Dorcas said as she hurried to let them inside. "Our Postmaster is a bit under the weather today so I will be helping you instead." Then she pulled Thomas aside and explained the situation. He was about to expound upon the sins of drinking before Dorcas interrupted him by telling him he would have to cover both his own and Harry's routes that day. Thomas looked even more disgruntled.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, but there is nothing to be done about it. We'll just have to muddle through today."

"Whatever you say, Lady Dorcas," Thomas replied curtly as he quickly sorted through the mail and then headed out the door.

Once she had taken care of all the customers, she hurried upstairs to see her son. "Oh, Sydney!" she exclaimed when she saw how miserable he looked. Richard was standing over him, forcing him to drink the strange looking concoction he had made. Surprisingly, Sydney seemed to be keeping it down.

"He's doing better, Lady Dorcas. Thank you for coming so quickly," Richard said.

"Of course. Well, Sydney, what do you have to say for yourself?" She gave him her sternest look which would have made him smile if he hadn't felt so wretched.

"I'm sorry, Ma. Harry and I got a little carried away last night…celebrating his last days as a bachelor and all."

"I see. And is Harry in the same condition as you this morning?"

"I-I don't know. Perhaps you'd better check on him, too, doctor," Sydney said.

By noon, Sydney was feeling well enough to wash and dress himself before shakily making his way downstairs. "I can take over now, Ma, thank you. You don't have to stay, I'll be fine."

"I'll stay a bit longer, just to be sure," Dorcas replied as she continued to watch her son. "Sydney, talk to me. It's not like you to get drunk."

"It's really nothing, Ma. Harry is getting married tomorrow—we were just celebrating. It won't happen again, I promise."

"See that it doesn't, Sydney. You are the Postmaster and a well respected member of this town. You have a reputation to uphold, son, and such foolishness could tarnish that reputation and that of this Post Office."

Sydney leaned on the counter and held his head. "I know, I know, Ma, and I'm sorry. I just needed to…to…" He hesitated, not willing to go on.

"To what, Sydney?" Dorcas asked gently. "Does this have to do with Lord Harwell courting Abigail? Is that really why you drank yourself sick last night?"

Sydney felt sick to his stomach again just hearing their names together. He could only nod his head.

Dorcas put her arm around him. "Darling, this has to stop. You can't go on like this. You must talk to her right away."

Sydney nodded again. "I know and I will, Ma—tomorrow, first thing in the morning, before the wedding. I'm afraid I'm not quite up to the task at this moment."

"All right, then," Dorcas said as she kissed him on the cheek. "Now, before I go home, I think I will get a bit of exercise and help Thomas by taking over Harry's rounds."

Sydney pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Ma. Thank you for being here for me even when I am at my most foolish."

Dorcas smiled as she held his face in her hands. "That is when a mother is needed most!"

When Thomas returned from his rounds later that afternoon he gave Sydney a disapproving look, but otherwise remained silent.

Sydney sighed and walked up to him. "Thomas, I owe you an apology for what happened this morning. I promise you, it will never happen again."

"Thank you, sir," Thomas said in a clipped voice.

Sydney knew that the best way to deal with Thomas was to be honest and forthright with him. "I want you to understand that I have been plagued by a…a matter of the heart, Thomas, and I chose a very foolish way to deal with it last night. It was wrong of me and I am ashamed of my behaviour. I do hope you will forgive me."

Thomas's face softened as he remembered back to a time long ago when his own dear Margaret became rather tipsy herself over a matter of the heart. It could happen to the best of people. He patted Sydney on the shoulder. "I think I do understand, Mr Dowland. But may I suggest the next time you are plagued by such a matter that you ask for God's help first before you turn to the bottle? I assure you he really does listen!"

Sydney smiled. "Thank you, Thomas. I hope there won't be a next time, but if there is I will certainly take your advice."

Thomas gave him a nod of approval. "Well, then, I will say good night, sir, and I will see you at the church tomorrow morning!"

"Yes, I will see you at the wedding tomorrow. Good night, Thomas."

Sydney locked the door behind Thomas and leaned against it. "And I will see you, my dear Abby, before the wedding," he whispered to the silence around him.

---

Abby had had a thoroughly enjoyable day helping the girls with the baking for Annie's wedding. For a time she even managed to forget about her own troubled heart and spent the day laughing and giggling with her friends. She and Annie both listened attentively as the married girls reassured Annie that the wedding night was nothing to be feared.

Abby pulled Annie aside afterward and whispered, "You will have to tell me every little detail so I will know what to expect myself!"

Annie looked aghast. "I will do no such thing, Abby! That will be between me and Harry!" Then they both burst into giggles again, leaving Emma rolling her eyes at them.

"Honestly," Emma admonished them whilst trying to keep from giggling herself, "I hope you two don't start that giggling at the altar! What would poor Harry think—not to mention the vicar?"

Laura and Richard had supplied the flowers for the wedding and after the baking was finished they went to the church to place the flowers and decorate. It was a full and busy day, but the church looked beautiful and Annie was already looking radiant with anticipation.

Abby took her own bouquet in hand to take home with her, but first she gave Annie a hug. "You are getting married tomorrow!" she squealed.

"I know! It doesn't seem quite real yet, does it?" Annie replied with a squeal of her own.

"No, it doesn't, but it will certainly be real tomorrow! Ooh, I cannnot wait!" Abby squeezed her again. "It is going to be wonderful, Annie."

Annie brushed away a happy tear. "Yes, it will be."

Abby then made her way home in the early evening, happily having avoided seeing both Jeremy and Sydney the entire day, despite her being there in town. And what a lovely day it had been because of it. Tomorrow, however, would be another story…

She would have to deal with them both.

---

Annie had stayed overnight at Laura and Richard's house and Abby met them there before proceeding to the church.

"Oh, Annie, you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen!" Abby exclaimed as she saw her friend in her wedding dress for the first time. "Wait until Harry sees you!"

Annie grasped her hand and Abby could feel her shaking. "Thank you, Abby. I'm so glad you're here! I'm so nervous I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Don't worry, Annie, everything is going to be perfect," Abby reassured her.

Annie's mother Emma finished her daughter's hair and then sighed as she looked at her with tears in her eyes. "Look at you! You are so beautiful! Yesterday, I was holding your hand as you learnt to walk, and now you are a bride." She pulled Annie into a hug, mindful not to mess her hair or wrinkle her wedding dress, and then they were both crying.

Abby turned away as she had tears of her own in her eyes. Weddings always made her cry, but this was her dearest friend who was getting married. In some ways it felt as though she was losing her. She would be someone's wife now and no doubt motherhood would soon follow. Annie would no longer have much time for her anymore.

There was a knock at the door and since Abby was nearest she went to see who it was. Her eyes widened when she saw Sydney standing there, looking incredibly handsome in his new suit. She noticed the blue flower in his buttonhole matched the colour of his eyes.

"Sydney, what are you doing here?" she managed to say.

Sydney could only stare at her at first. She looked so beautiful in her maid of honour dress that it took his breath away. Finally, he found his words. "Abby, I need to speak with you. I have something to say and I can't…"

"I'm sorry, Sydney," she interrupted him, "but I can't talk right now. We are about to leave for the church."

"Please, Abby, it won't take long. Can you at least ride to the church with me so we can talk on the way?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to do this anymore nor do I have anything to say to you, Sydney. Besides, I can't ride with you."

"Why not?"

At that moment Jeremy came up behind Sydney and smiled at her. "Ready to go, my dear?" he said.

Sydney's brow darkened as he turned to face Jeremy. "What are you doing here, Harwell?" he practically snarled.

"It's Lord Harwell to you, and not that I have to explain myself to you, but I am here to escort Abby to the wedding." He gave Sydney a triumphant look as he held his hand out to Abby, who quickly sidled past Sydney.

Sydney wanted to reach out and pull Abby away from Jeremy's clutches, but Robert arrived at that moment, keeping Sydney from making a scene.

Robert looked nervous as he brushed past them and then when he laid eyes on Annie he looked as though he were about to cry. "You look incredibly beautiful, my girl," he managed to say.

"Thank you, Pa," she replied as she gave him a hug.

Robert cleared his throat. "Well, now, daughter, are you ready to be married?"

He held his arm out to her and she grasped it with a smile. "Yes, Pa, I'm ready."

Robert helped her into the carriage and then helped Emma in next to her. Laura, Richard and Ethel hurried into Richard's carriage and Sydney watched with a scowl as Jeremy helped Abby into his. Sydney was then left alone to follow behind them.

Harry had arrived early at the church and was pacing nervously, waiting for Sydney to arrive. His mother and sister and her family were already seated in the church so Harry was relieved to finally see Sydney arrive through the back door.

"All right, Harry?" Sydney asked him as he patted him on the shoulder.

"I-I don't think I can feel my legs, Syd. I knew Annie and I should have eloped!" Harry moaned.

Sydney chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous. You are about to marry the woman you love—you should be thrilled!"

Harry nodded nervously. "I am thrilled, and will be even more so as we are walking out of the church!"

Sydney gave him a bracing slap on the back. "Steady on, man, you'll do fine. Just repeat whatever the vicar tells you to say."

Harry grunted. "Easy for you to say—it's not you having to say your vows in front of a room full of people!"

Sydney shook his head. "No, but I wish it was me."

Harry gave him a sympathetic look. "You'll be next, mate, I'm sure of it! Abby will come around in time, you'll see."

The vicar came in at that moment and told them it was time. Harry took a deep breath and looked as though he were about to pass out.

Sydney grabbed his arm and pushed him out towards the altar. "Here we go, Harry!"

Mrs Pritchard, who was the church organist, began to play as soon as Harry and Sydney were assembled at the altar. A few moments later, the door to the church opened and Sydney felt his heart skip a few beats as Abby came walking down the aisle, carrying her bouquet in front of her and smiling at everyone she passed. Right behind her was Harry's little niece as flower girl who tossed her petals quite happily in the air as she walked, making everyone laugh softly.

As Sydney watched the little girl, he remembered back to another time when he was standing at the front of that very church with Sir Timothy for Sir Timothy and his ma's wedding, and Abby, barely three years old, came walking down the aisle as their flower girl, stopping suddenly to cry out, "Hi Siddy!" with such joy when she saw him standing there that it made everyone in the church laugh.

She had adored him even then. The thought made him smile and want to weep at the same time. If only he could show her how much he adored her, too. If only she were walking down the aisle for him, to stand by his side and vow to love and cherish him for the rest of his life. He would be the happiest man in the world.

His eyes never left her as she made her way to stand opposite him. But she kept her eyes firmly on the door of the church, waiting for Annie to appear, and not once did she let herself look at him.

Now, everyone in the church was standing up as Annie and her father appeared in the doorway. Abby could see tears of happiness in Annie's eyes as she clutched Robert's arm. Emma and Laura were already soaking their handkerchiefs, and Dorcas tightened her arm around Timothy's as they shared a smile, remembering the joy of their own wedding.

Abby heard a loud sniff next to her and turned to see Harry with tears running down his cheeks, unable to restrain his own emotions any longer. She gave him a sympathetic smile as Sydney took his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and handed it to his friend, who took it gratefully. Sydney finally managed to catch Abby's eye and she shared a little smile with him, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to hate him.

Then Annie and Robert had reached the altar and Robert kissed his daughter's cheek before sitting down next to Emma. Annie gave Abby a radiant smile as she handed the bouquet to her before turning her gaze towards Harry. Then the vicar began to speak.

Abby closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the words, but when the vicar asked, "Harry Smith, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?" Abby could not stop herself from opening her eyes and looking over at Sydney who was looking at her so intensely she felt her legs begin to weaken.

She turned away quickly, wondering what it could mean. Did Sydney have feelings for her after all? Was that what he wanted to tell her before the wedding? She gave herself a mental shake. No, of course that couldn't be the case. She was just letting the atmosphere of the wedding influence her imagination. She wasn't going to be so foolish as to let herself hope all over again.

Harry had replied "I will" and now it was Annie's turn. Emma could be heard sniffing loudly as Annie also said "I will" and Robert put his arm around her to comfort her. Abby stared steadfastly ahead, determined not to let herself look at Sydney, but when she heard Harry begin his vows: "I, Harry Smith, take thee Annie Timmins to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth" Abby could not keep her eyes from straying to Sydney once again, who was now looking at her as though he were reciting the words silently to her. She felt tears in her eyes as she heard Annie say, "I, Annie Timmins, take thee Harry Smith to my wedded husband…" unable to tear her eyes from Sydney's as though she, too, were reciting those very words to him in her heart. He smiled at her then, his beautiful, dimpled smile that made her heart melt inside of her despite the little voice in her head screaming at her not to fall for it again; not to trust whatever it was she thought he was trying to communicate. She finally averted her gaze and turned her focus back to Harry and Annie who had just been pronounced Man and Wife.

Sydney was now shaking Harry's hand and Abby embraced Annie as they turned and faced the congregation. The only one not smiling in the crowd was Jeremy Harwell, who had been watching Abby all through the ceremony and saw the way she had been looking at Sydney and he her. His fists were clenched as tight as his jaw, but he wasn't about to give up on winning Abby for his own, not by a long shot.

---

Annie and Harry's mouths fell open when they stepped into the ballroom of Sir Timothy's manor, as did everyone's who followed them. Flowers graced every table as did glowing candles and little bags of sweets and nuts by every plate. The banquet table was filled with every breakfast dish imaginable and in the centre of it all sat the beautiful wedding cake the girls had baked the day before. Servants hurried to fill champagne glasses for everyone and a small orchestra played softly at the other end of the room.

Annie rushed over to Dorcas and Timothy and grasped their hands. "Sir Timothy, Lady Dorcas, how will I ever thank you for such a beautiful reception? It is like a dream!"

Dorcas gave her a hug. "We are so pleased to be able to do this for you, dear cousin. You have always been such a good friend to our Abigail—it is the least we can do."

"Yes, indeed," Timothy added with a smile, "it is very much our pleasure, Annie, or should I say Mrs Smith?"

Annie laughed and kissed them both on the cheek just as Harry came forth and also offered his thanks before being besieged with congratulations from their family and friends.

Sydney entered the room and looked about, hoping to find Abby alone, but alas there she was with her arm linked through Jeremy's as she introduced him to everyone. Sydney scowled, and despite his previous vow to never drink again, grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray and drank it down quickly.

A gentle hand touched his arm and he saw his mother standing next to him, looking at him sympathetically.

"Have you spoken to Abby yet, dear?" she asked.

Sydney shook his head. "No, not with that Harwell fellow glued to her side at every moment."

"I am sorry, Sydney," Dorcas said with feeling. "I know how hard it must be to see her with another man."

"What does she see in him, anyway? He's a wolf in sheep's clothing if I ever saw one," he said sullenly.

Dorcas looked up at him with a wise little smile. "I think what our Abby sees in him is a means of making you jealous."

Sydney glanced sharply at her, but she just patted his cheek before walking away to join Timothy.

Sydney looked back at Abby and Jeremy with narrowed eyes. He didn't know whether to believe his mother or not. Abby looked genuinely happy with Jeremy, who was now looking at her with such fondness that Sydney began to wonder if he was wrong about the man. He gave a great sigh and then grabbed a second glass of champagne from another passing tray.

Soon everyone had filled their plates with food and was seating themselves at the tables. Sydney and Abby were to sit with the bride and groom, leaving Jeremy to sit with Timothy and Dorcas at their table. Unfortunately for Sydney, he was seated on Harry's left whilst Abby was seated on Annie's right so he was unable to speak with her whilst they had their breakfast. He did peer around Harry to look at her several times, but she never once glanced his way. He then looked over at his ma's table and could see them laughing with Jeremy as though completely charmed by him. It only added to his growing gloom.

Abby was acutely aware of Sydney's stares. It was all she could do to keep herself from looking back at him, but she vowed to remain strong and not let herself fall back into her old patterns. She was going to move on now with Jeremy. After all, Jeremy had no problem showing her true affection and kissing her without running away. And Jeremy did not make her heart ache.

Suddenly, Sydney stood up and tapped his glass, calling everyone to attention. "I would like to make a toast to Annie and Harry. I have had the privilege of knowing Harry for years now and a more steadfast friend I could not have asked for. When I discovered his secret love for Annie Timmins, one of the sweetest, kindest young ladies I have ever known, I knew that they belonged together. It was a joy to witness their marriage today for I know it will be filled with love and joy, respect and devotion…and hopefully, many children. I can only hope to be so lucky." He was looking at Abby as he said that last sentence and he saw her quickly brush a tear away from her cheek. He smiled wistfully at her and then raised his glass. "To Annie and Harry!"

"To Annie and Harry!" everyone echoed with a joyful clinking of glasses.

Harry shook Sydney's hand and patted him on the back whilst Annie kissed his cheek with tears in her eyes. "That was beautiful, Sydney. Thank you."

As soon as everyone had had their fill of the food, the orchestra began to play more loudly, signalling it was time to begin the dancing. The servants quickly cleared away the dishes and began to pull the tables to the walls, allowing the dancers more room.

Harry held his hand out to Annie who smiled radiantly as they began their first dance together as man and wife. Everyone smiled as they watched them dance. Little Hannah Brown was among them, watching with wondrous eyes at how elegant the couple looked in each other's arms. She looked quite pretty in her new blue dress and shiny new shoes. She had matching ribbons in her hair which were quite fetching and little white gloves which were spotless. When she had heard there would be dancing at the manor she insisted on a brand new dress, for her greatest wish was to dance with Benjamin Midwinter. She gave a heartfelt sigh when she saw him standing with the Armstrong boys as well as her little brother, John, and Alf and Minnie's boys. He was taller than all of them, being the oldest, although Robby Armstrong was quickly catching him up. Ben was by far the most handsome in her eyes.

Soon, other couples began to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. Hannah took a deep breath to gather her courage and made her way over to where Ben was standing. She slipped in next to him and stared adoringly up at him. "Hello, Ben!" she squeaked.

He sighed when he saw her next to him. "Oh, hello, Hannah." He looked away quickly, though, hoping she would go away.

"Do you like to dance, Ben?" Hannah ventured again.

The other boys looked at Ben and began to giggle. Ben's face turned bright red. "No, I don't," he said firmly to her.

"Oh," she said, looking disappointed.

David Armstrong smirked and gave Ben a little shove. "Your girlfriend wants you to dance with her, Ben," he teased, making the other boys laugh.

"Shut up, David!" Ben growled at him.

Even Hannah's own traitorous brother joined in the teasing. "Yes, she dressed up just for you, Ben. She looooves you!"

The boys were all laughing uproariously now, except for Ben, who was looking like he wanted to murder them all, and the oldest Armstrong boy, Robby, who was looking at Hannah with pity. Robby had always been a gentle soul.

Poor Hannah hung her head with mortification, and with tears in her eyes she turned and quickly walked away.

Timothy had witnessed the entire scene from across the room and as he saw little Hannah reduced to tears he made his way slowly over to Benjamin where he clamped his hand on his son's neck and said in a low voice, "A word, Benjamin." Timothy then looked so sternly at the other boys that they gulped and went silent.

Timothy pulled his son into a quiet corner. "Benjamin Lane Midwinter, I did not raise you to stand by and allow your friends to reduce little girls to tears. You are a gentleman and it is time you started acting like one. Hannah Brown is a very sweet little girl and, for reasons I cannot fathom at the moment, she appears to be very fond of you."

"But, Father…" Ben began to protest, only to feel his father's iron grip tighten on his neck.

"Benjamin, whether you like it or not, those boys look up to you. They look to you to see how to act. Do not shame me again with such ungentlemanly behaviour. Now, you will go to Hannah and apologise to her and then you will ask her to dance. You will dance with her all day if that is what she wants. Do you understand me?"

Ben nodded miserably. "Yes, Father."

Timothy released him and watched him go.

Ben studiously ignored the other boys as he walked past them to find Hannah. He felt as though he were being sent to the gallows. But whilst he looked about for the girl he couldn't find her anywhere. It wasn't until he glanced at the dance floor that he finally spotted her. She was dancing with Robby Armstrong. To his surprise, Robby actually looked like he was enjoying himself and even Hannah looked happy again. It took Ben a moment to realise that the strange little twinge he felt in his stomach was something akin to jealousy. He looked over and saw that his father was still watching him so he waited patiently for the dance to end before going up to Hannah.

Hannah looked down at her shoes when he approached.

"Hannah, I'm sorry for making you cry before. I would be happy to dance the next dance with you."

She looked up at him with surprise, but then shook her head. "Thank you, but I know you don't really want to. I'm going to dance with Robby instead." She turned away and joined Robby, who smiled at her as the music began to play again.

Ben didn't know quite what to do now. He never dreamt that Hannah would be anything less than ecstatic to dance with him. He walked away, and as he passed by his parents he said to his father, "She doesn't want to dance with me anymore."

Timothy sighed and looked at his wife. "Was it just me, or did he actually look a bit disappointed?"

As Ben rejoined the other boys, Alf Junior piped up, "Poor Robby, now he's stuck dancing with Hannah. Ugh!"

David then started to laugh like a hyena, pointing at Hannah and Robby as they danced. Ben suddenly found himself reaching out and grabbing both boys' heads and knocking them together with a loud clunk. "Be nice to Hannah or I'm going to pound you both," he growled at them.

The boys looked up at him with their mouths hanging open in astonishment as they rubbed their heads, but they stopped their teasing.

"Yeah, leave my sister alone," John said, changing his tune suddenly as he stood next to Ben.

Timothy looked proudly down at Dorcas who took his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I think our boy may finally be growing up," she said to him.

He gave her hand a squeeze. "I think you may be right, darling."

Laura and Richard smiled as they watched their eldest dancing so sweetly with Hannah Brown. Richard held his hand out to her. "Shall we join them, my love?"

"Don't mind if I do!" Laura smiled up at him as she took his hand, but then suddenly she seemed to lose her balance and began to fall. Richard quickly grabbed her and held her up.

"Laura, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"I-I don't know. I just felt dizzy all of a sudden," she replied, holding her hand up to her forehead.

Richard quickly sat her down at one of the tables. "Did you eat enough? Here, at least try to drink something."

Laura made a face. "Ooh, no, my stomach doesn't feel very good right now. It's come on so suddenly. I haven't felt like this since…" Her eyes widened and she clutched her husband's hand.

"Since what?" Richard asked. "Laura, what is it?"

Laura began to laugh. "Oh, Richard, I think you had better sit down."

Richard dropped heavily into the chair next to her as if his legs had suddenly given out and grasped both her hands. "You're not thinking you're…" he looked at her hopefully.

Laura nodded and laughed, but this time there were tears in her eyes. "I hope you still want a daughter."

Richard laughed and gathered her into his arms. "Oh, my love, of course I do. I want a dozen of them!"

Laura held him tight. "Well, let's just hope for this one first, shall we?"

"It will be a girl, I just know it," Richard said as he kissed his wife tenderly.

Sydney was watching Abby as she danced in Jeremy's arms. He was about to walk up to them and cut in so he could speak to her, but then Jeremy said something to Abby that made her laugh—a laugh filled with such joy that he stopped, feeling a sick feeling of impending loss deep in his stomach.

Timothy came and stood next to him with his hands clasped behind his back. He watched his daughter with Jeremy for a moment and then looked over at Sydney, regarding him silently.

"She looks happy, doesn't she?" Sydney said with resignation.

Timothy sighed. "Yes, she does."

Sydney nodded. "Well, that is all that matters. Please excuse me, Sir Timothy; I think I need some fresh air." He began walking away.

"He's asked me for her hand in marriage," Timothy said to him, stopping him in his tracks. "I just thought you should know."

Sydney did not turn around. "What answer did you give him?" he asked quietly.

"I told him I would leave it up to Abigail to decide what she wanted."

Sydney nodded and began walking away again.

"Sydney," Timothy called out, stopping him once more, "I want you to know that if you had asked my permission my answer would have been yes."

Sydney finally turned to face him. "Thank you, Sir Timothy. You have no idea how much that means to me, but Lord Harwell can give Abby the kind of life that she deserves."

"Yes," Timothy replied with a nod, "but what about the life that she wants?"

Sydney looked over at Abby again before giving Timothy a sad smile. "It appears to be one and the same, doesn't it?" He then turned and quickly strode out of the room.

Abby was aware that Sydney had been watching her and part of her kept waiting for him to ask her to dance, or at least try to speak to her again. Even though she was resolved to be with Jeremy, it still stung that he made no effort to claim her for his own, not that she really expected him to. He had made it clear he did not feel that way about her, but then why did he continue to watch her? Why did he keep staring at her so intensely during the wedding ceremony and then during the toast?

She was more confused than ever and when she saw him leave the room a bolt of anger suddenly shot through her. She excused herself from Jeremy, telling him she needed to have a word with someone, and quickly followed after Sydney. He was halfway down the servants' hallway before she found him.

"Running away again, I see?" she said accusingly.

He turned and faced her. "I'm not running away."

"Yes, you are. But then I should have expected that."

"Go back to Jeremy, Abby."

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? Then you wouldn't have to deal with me anymore."

"That isn't true; I just want what is best for you."

"I see. And you think you know what is best for me, do you? Well, you don't know anything about me, Sydney Dowland! What's more, I think you are a coward!"

Sydney's face flushed angrily as he walked quickly up to her. "I am not a coward!"

"Yes, you are!" She was now shouting as tears flooded her eyes.

Dorcas, who had seen them both leave the room, walked over to the door. She had heard Abby shouting so she peered around the corner to see what was going on. "Well, at least they're finally talking," she said to herself. She looked quickly back into the ballroom to make sure Jeremy wasn't approaching. Satisfied to see he was now occupied with speaking to Timothy, she continued to keep her eye on Sydney and Abby.

"What is wrong with me wanting what is best for you, Abby? Why is that cowardly?" he nearly shouted back.

A sob escaped Abby. "Just forget it. You will never change." She turned quickly and began to walk away, but Sydney grabbed her arm.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted again, only this time she gave him a shove which made him fall back against the panelled wall of the hallway. A strange sound then followed; a scraping, creaking noise behind Sydney that made him move away from the wall as something nudged him in the back. They both looked with astonishment as a door opened in the wall—a door that no one even knew existed.

Abby's anger was almost forgotten as she stared open-mouthed at the door. "I think it's one of the long-lost secret passageways!" she exclaimed.

Sydney pulled the door open even further. "There is a passageway here! Quick, find some candles!"

Abby hurried to a cabinet nearby and found two candleholders and two long tapers to put in them. She lit them quickly and gave one to Sydney. Then they stepped inside the passageway, where no one had ventured in probably a hundred years or more. The air was stale and musty with age and spider webs hung from the ceiling and spanned the walls.

"Shouldn't we put something by the door to keep it from shutting on us?" Abby asked in a whisper, not really sure why she was whispering.

Sydney looked back. "No, it's a pretty heavy door; I don't think it will move."

Abby shrugged as she batted away a web. "I hope you're right!"

Dorcas also stared with astonishment as she saw the hidden doorway revealed. She was about to examine it for herself when she heard footsteps approaching. Looking back at the ballroom she could see Jeremy heading her way so she quickly ran to the secret passageway and leaned against its door until it was nearly shut. She knew Sydney and Abby were inside for she could hear their voices getting dimmer as they moved further down the passageway. She didn't want Jeremy interrupting them.

Jeremy saw her standing in the hallway. "Ah, Lady Dorcas, I was wondering if you had seen Abby per chance?"

Dorcas smiled innocently at him and leaned a little harder on the door until she heard it click in place. "Lord Jeremy, I'm sorry, but, no, I have not seen Abigail. Perhaps she just stepped outside for a bit of fresh air."

Abby had heard the door click shut and ran back to investigate. Sure enough, the light from the hallway was gone and despite pressing all around the door, it would not open. She ran back to tell Sydney.

He followed her back and wasn't able to open the door, either.

"This is all your fault!" Abby cried. "I knew we should have put something by the door so it wouldn't close. I suppose we'll be trapped here forever now. Just my luck to be stuck in here with you!"

"Oh, I suppose you would rather be trapped in here with Lord Pompous!" He said sarcastically as he turned his back to her and began walking the other way, hoping to come to a door at the other end.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I would," Abby continued as she followed behind him. At least Jeremy is amusing and wants to be with me. Jeremy is exactly the kind of man a woman dreams of. In fact, Jeremy told me just the other day…"

Sydney turned on her so suddenly that she instinctively shrank back against the wall. "If you say his name one more time I am not going to be responsible for my actions!"

Abby stared at him wide-eyed. "What is the matter you? I thought you wanted me to meet other men, marry a man just like Jeremy! Isn't that what you've said so many times before?"

"Yes!" Sydney said a little more forcefully than he intended. "And I'm sorry I did so! I'm sick of hearing his name and sick of seeing you with him. It's driving me mad, Abby!" He set his candlestick on the ground and began pressing about the walls, hoping to find another door.

Abby felt anger welling up inside of her again and her dark eyes flashed at him. "Why does that drive you mad, Syd? Can you explain that to me? You know, you're the one who said that nothing could ever happen between us, that I had to get over my 'infatuation' with you. So that is what I did and you're still not happy. You're impossible to please these days and that's driving me mad! I can't take it anymore!"

Sydney looked away and was silent. He began walking back towards the entrance again.

Abby followed doggedly behind him. "You can't have it both ways, Sydney. You can't not want me and then turn around and not want anyone else to want me, either. It's not fair."

She waited for him to say something, but he just stood there in stony silence.

"Well, if you're not going to explain yourself to me, Syd, then I am going to stand here and keep saying his name until you do."

She crossed her arms in front of her and stuck her chin out stubbornly. "Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy…."

He still refused to look at her, but she could see his brow turning into a dark thundercloud and his chest starting to heave with every breath.

She chanted the name even louder, "JEREMY, JEREMY, JEREMY, JER…"

His mouth suddenly crushed against her own, unable to hold himself back from her any longer. His hand grasped the back of her head and pulled her tighter to him. It was a relief to give in to her, to stop fighting what he wanted more than anything in this world. He felt her melting in his arms and he wanted more of her…he needed more of her…he knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he had melded with every part of her body and soul. But he knew he couldn't have her just yet even though she was clinging to him just as desperately as he was to her. He forced himself to break the kiss and his voice was husky as he whispered in her ear, "I don't want you seeing Jeremy blasted Harwell ever again, or any other man, do you hear me?"

Abby was breathing hard. "Why, Sydney? Tell me, I need to hear you say it. Tell me…" she pleaded desperately.

He grasped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. "Because I love you, Abbs. I love you with every fibre of my being. I don't want to be apart from you ever again and, oh, God, I want to make love to you so badly." He took possession of her mouth once more, causing her to moan and press herself tighter against him.

When they both finally came up for air Sydney gasped, "Abby?"

"Hmmm?" She was gazing up at him with eyes filled with so much love it made him stop breathing for a moment. Then she was kissing him again and it was all he could do to pull away long enough so he could speak.

"Wait, darling, wait. I need to ask you something."

Her eyes went wide and seemed to glow from within with anticipation.

He kept his hands on her shoulders to keep some distance between them. "Abby, I need you to be completely honest with me."

"Of course, my love."

Sydney took a deep breath. "Do you really think you could be truly happy living with me in a simple little Post…"

Before he could even finish, Abby flung herself into his arms, knocking him back against the wall with a thump. "Yes! Oh, yes, Siddy! That is all I have ever wanted—to spend the rest of my life with you in our Post Office, or anywhere else. I don't care as long as I am with you."

Dorcas winced when she heard the loud thump behind her.

"What was that?" Jeremy asked.

"What was what?" Dorcas replied with wide-eyed innocence.

"That thumping noise!"

"I didn't hear anything."

"I distinctly heard a loud thump—and were those voices? I believe they were coming from the wall behind you!" Jeremy looked searchingly above Dorcas's head at the wall.

Another thump was heard.

"There it is again!"

Dorcas frantically tried to think of what to say. "Oh, dear, I'm afraid you caught us out."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I believe you must have heard our ghost."

"Ghost?" he exclaimed, looking at Dorcas as if she had gone mad.

Dorcas tittered nervously. "Oh, yes, all these old houses have one, you know, with all the perilous times they've witnessed and all. We prefer not to talk about him."

"Him?"

Sydney had pulled Abby against him, and as he kissed her he turned themselves around until she was against the wall so he could press his body as close to hers as possible. She moaned as the kiss deepened, feeling the heat from his body melting into hers.

"Yes, our ghost," Dorcas continued on. "Frightful fellow… likes to moan from time to time."

Jeremy blinked at her in disbelief.

"Shall we go back to the party?" she asked with a bright smile as she tried to lead Jeremy away, but he refused to budge.

"I need to find Abby."

"Well, you won't find her here. I am sure she must have gone outside."

Abby felt her knees weakening. All her dreams had just come true. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she continued to kiss Sydney desperately whilst reaching for the wall behind her to steady herself. She felt her hand press against something odd on the wall and whatever it was caused the secret door to release. Suddenly, they were both spilling out into the hallway and didn't stop until they landed against the opposite wall, never once having broken their kiss.

Jeremy swore out loud and stumbled back in shock, whilst Dorcas's hand flew up to her mouth. Abby and Sydney remained oblivious to them until Dorcas finally cleared her throat loudly causing them to pull apart with a start.

"Ma!" Sydney said with surprise.

"Jeremy!" Abby said with equal surprise.

Jeremy just gave her a terribly hurt look and walked quickly away.

"I should go speak to him," Abby said as she moved to pull away from Sydney.

"No, you won't!" Sydney said commandingly as he pulled her back into his arms and began kissing her again.

Dorcas shook her head at them whilst trying to suppress a smile.

"Ahem!" she cleared her throat loudly again, stopping them once more.

"Oh, sorry, Ma," Sydney said sheepishly.

"Well, you two," she began as she regarded them with barely concealed amusement, "I can see that I will have to prepare the manor for another wedding. Any idea when?"

Sydney and Abby looked at each other and smiled. Then they looked back at Dorcas whilst replying in unison, "As soon as possible, Ma!"

Abby and Sydney returned to the ballroom hand-in-hand and were soon in each other's arms for the next dance. As far as they were concerned, they were the only two people in the room as they waltzed slowly across the dance floor, gazing into each other's eyes.

Annie nudged Harry. "Look at Abby and Sydney! Oh, Harry, do you think…?"

Harry's face broke into a broad smile. "I do think, Annie! I haven't seen those two look so happy in, well, forever! It's about time!"

Annie gripped Harry's arm and rested her head on his shoulder as they watched their best friends dancing together. "Isn't it wonderful, Harry?" she sighed.

"Yes, it is, darling." He smiled down at her. "Shall we join them?"

She nodded happily and took his hand, and soon they were dancing next to their friends. Annie finally caught Abby's eye and mouthed, "Are you and Sydney…?"

Abby nodded, giving Annie a radiant smile, causing Annie to squeal with delight and break away from Harry to give her friends a hug.

Timothy gave Dorcas a puzzled look as she came and placed her arm around his. "What has happened between Abigail and Sydney?" he asked.

Dorcas squeezed his arm. "Something wonderful, darling! It looks like you will be walking your daughter down the aisle quite soon!"

"Indeed?" Timothy said with raised eyebrows, and then he began to smile. "I always knew there was something about that Post Office that we Midwinters could never resist!"

Dorcas laughed and gave him a kiss.

"They look happy, don't they?" Timothy said softly as he watched his daughter smiling in the arms of his soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Yes, they do, Timothy. Oh, I am so happy that our children will know the kind of love that you and I share. We are truly blessed!"

Timothy put his arm around her and pulled her close. "We certainly are, my darling, so very much."

Sydney swirled Abby closer and closer to the door and then leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I don't think Annie and Harry would mind if we stepped out for a bit, do you?"

Abby looked at him with surprise. "What do you have in mind?"

"Hmmm…" Sydney said, as he bent down and nuzzled her ear, "I happened to notice what a terribly warm day it is today."

Abby began to smile. "Yes, it is…terribly warm."

"And I happen to know a splendid way for us to cool off," he continued as he swirled her right out the door and into the empty hallway.

"Do you, now," she said as they came to a stop.

"Oh, yes. You see, there is a certain little lake that I know of that isn't far at all—quite close, actually—but there is just one hitch."

"And that is?" Abby grinned up at him.

He pretended to look disappointed. "I don't have my swimming clothes with me."

Abby's eyes then flashed wickedly at him and her arms went up around his neck as she whispered, "You don't need any."

Sydney waggled his eyebrows at her and then took her hand, leading her quickly outside where they both laughed as they ran towards the lake.

---

They were married just three weeks later. Sydney hated to wait even that long, but Dorcas insisted that Abby have time to find a proper wedding dress and then invitations had to be sent out immediately.

Lady Claire quivered with fury when she received her invitation. It was bad enough that Abby had not returned to London to finish out the Season as she had promised, but to throw Lord Harwell aside for a common Postmaster! She had never heard such scandalous behaviour! How would she ever be able to show her face to her peers again? She immediately sat down at her desk and wrote a scathing letter to Timothy for allowing his daughter to marry so far beneath her. She ended her letter with: 'Adelaide will be turning in her grave! Have you no consideration for her feelings? Have you no shame?'

Timothy promptly tore up the letter when he received it and threw it into the fire. Abby would never have to know its contents.

When at last the wedding day arrived, Timothy held his daughter's arm as they waited outside the church for their cue. He smiled down at her. "Are you happy, my girl?" he asked.

"Deliriously happy, Papa!" she replied joyfully.

Then Annie came up and gave her a hug for luck before walking ahead as Matron of Honour.

Abby took a deep breath as she and her father began their journey down the aisle. Abby couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks when she saw Sydney standing at the front of the church, smiling proudly at her as she slowly made her way towards him. Harry was beaming at her as well as he stood next to Sydney. When they reached the altar, Timothy turned to Abby and whispered, "I love you, Abigail," before kissing her cheek and giving her over to Sydney. Then he sat down beside Dorcas, who patted his hand and held it tight.

Before they knew it, Sydney and Abby were pronounced Man and Wife.

Laura had been right when she said that the ceremony would go by in a blur. It seemed that time did not begin to slow until Abby was dancing that first dance with Sydney all alone on the dance floor. Afterward, everyone joined in and Sydney found himself replaced by his father, James, who insisted on dancing with his new daughter-in-law.

"You are beautiful, my dear," James said to her as they danced. "Thank you for making my son so happy."

"He has made me even happier, Mr Dowland," Abby said softly.

"Now, now, Abby, you must call me 'Pa'. And how proud I am to have you for my daughter-in-law! It seems like only yesterday when you were just a tiny girl chasing after our carriage as you cried for your 'Siddy' to come back. It was then that I realized how much Sydney was truly loved here in Candleford and I couldn't take him away from that."

"And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting him stay with us…Pa." She smiled up at him. "I've always loved him and will always love him. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without him."

James smiled and kissed her cheek and then Sydney was tapping him on the shoulder. "May I have my wife back, please, Pa?" he teased.

James looked at Abby. "He's a bit cheeky, though, isn't he?" he said with a wink before putting her back into his son's arms.

Sydney didn't have her for long, though, before Timothy cut in and demanded a dance with his daughter. Sydney went to dance with his mother, but was surprised to find her already dancing with his father. He smiled as he watched the two old friends dancing together.

"I have you to thank for my son's happiness, Dorcas," James was saying to her. "You were right to keep him here in Candleford. I will never be able to repay you for the wonderful life and future you have given to him."

Dorcas smiled fondly at him. "It is I who should be thanking you, James. Raising Sydney as my son has been the greatest gift. He has brought such joy into my life…into all of our lives! We love him so very much."

James smiled. "I have a feeling those two are going to make us grandparents sooner rather than later. Are you ready for that, Dorcas?"

"Ready? I cannot wait!" she said with relish.

James laughed as they continued their dance until Timothy came to claim his wife and James returned to his own.

Sydney finally had Abby back in his arms and he sighed contentedly as he rested his head against hers. "I love you, Abbs, with all my heart. Today you have made me the happiest man in the world."

Abby smiled as she held him tighter. "I love you, too, my Siddy…always and forever. What a wonderful life we are going to have together!"

Sydney kissed her forehead and then gazed at her with eyes shining with excitement. "We most certainly will, my darling. And just think, Abbs, it has only just begun!"

Abby then placed her hands on his chest and said almost shyly. "I want us to have lots of children, Siddy."

"Oh, Abbs," he said as he took her hand and kissed it, "so do I! We shall fill our Post Office with them!"

Then they both burst into joyful laughter as they swirled about the ballroom, each filled with the same dreams of the future that awaited them.

Hannah Brown stood at the edge of the ballroom and smiled wistfully as she watched the couples dancing. She looked quite pretty in yet another new dress as she stood in hopes of a dance partner, but she had learnt her lesson about hinting to be asked to dance. Perhaps Robby Armstrong would ask her to dance again, but so far he was too preoccupied with arm wrestling the other boys in the opposite corner of the room. She sighed resignedly and thought perhaps she would get herself some punch, when she felt someone standing next to her.

"Hello, Hannah," said Benjamin Midwinter.

"Oh, hello, Ben," Hannah replied, trying to sound uninterested, but she turned her head slightly away so he wouldn't see the smile on her face.

Ben cleared his throat nervously. "Erm…I was wondering if you would dance with me," he said as he looked down at his feet, for he could feel his cheeks turning red.

Hannah pretended to consider his offer for a moment, and just when he thought she was going to turn him down, she turned to him with a bright smile. "I would love to, Ben!" she squeaked.

He smiled with relief and held out his hand, then proceeded to dance with her, rather awkwardly at first, but quite sweetly. Hannah sighed with contentment and would remember that moment for years to come.

"Hey, Hannah," Ben said as the dance came to an end, "would you like to see the secret passageway Abby and Sydney found a few weeks ago? My father said it must have been hidden for over a hundred years!"

"Ooh, yes, please!" Hannah exclaimed with excitement as she took his hand and followed him out of the ballroom and down the hallway to where the secret passageway lay hidden in the wall.

As it turned out, the secret passageway that Abby and Sydney had stumbled upon was not the one that supposedly housed a hidden treasure, according to the Midwinter tales of yore; it simply led from one part of the house to another and may have once served as a convenient corridor for the servants.

No, it would be a few more years before the other secret passageway would reveal itself, and the treasure that lay hidden inside of it would come to change the life of at least one Midwinter in a most spectacular way.

But that is another tale for another day…

THE END

---

"A Midwinter's Tale", copyright © Sherry Ledenbach 2011

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express, written consent of the author.

Disclaimer

"A Midwinter's Tale" is an amateur, not-for-profit publication produced solely for the fans of "Lark Rise to Candleford". It is not intended to infringe upon any rights held by the BBC or the estate of Flora Thompson.

I would like to thank each of you for taking the time to read my story, with special thanks to those who left reviews. I would love to hear comments from everyone-since this site won't let me type an email address I must spell the "at" sign out so here is my address: pfigalilly "at" surewest "dot" net Thank you so much!

-Sherry Ledenbach