Chapter One

Isobel Merton enjoyed the sounds of the crisp autumn morning as she made her way back across the village after coffee with Cousin Violet. Clear blue skies, the merest hint of a breeze, a slight chill in the air: wonderful!

As she neared home she thought back to when she had first arrived in the village all those years ago. No motor vehicles then, just horses and bicycles. The village still bustled, but the sounds and pace of life were gradually changing. She felt the familiar pang of loss as she remembered Matthew cycling off to the station in the mornings, but cheered herself by remembering George collecting conkers just last week from the tree across the green. Still smiling to herself, she realised there was a taxi unloading a passenger and suitcases just outside her house.

"Can I help you?" Isobel asked.

The young woman looked startled for a moment, and clutched the child in her arms a little closer. Isobel noticed her coat was smart, but not designed for cold Yorkshire winters.

"Thank you ma'am. I'm looking for Lord and Lady Merton. The cabbie said this is Crawley House?" The woman spoke with a slight cockney accent Isobel noticed.

"I'm Lady Merton. How can I help?" Isobel was intrigued.

"I'm Emma, m'lady. I believe we're expected?" The child in her arms started to fuss, so she missed the initial look of surprise on Isobel's face. "I have a letter for you from the mistress."

"Well, we'd better get you inside then. It sounds like the little one is not appreciating being outdoors. Let's get you in and warm, then we can find out what all this is about, hmm?" Isobel led the way to the front door.

As she entered the house, Mr Stokes appeared from the kitchen.

"Welcome home, m'lady" he smiled, then as he saw the visitor he added "Shall I ask for tea to be brought in?"

"Yes please, Stokes. And can you look after the taxi driver outside and bring in the luggage? Thank you". She turned to Emma "Let's get your things off and get through into the drawing room. There's a nice warm fire in the there."

Isobel held out her arms to take the child so that Emma could take her coat off. Looking down, she saw rosy cheeks and clear blue eyes looking back her. She smiled.

"It's not often I get to hold babies these days. Does he have a name?" Isobel asked.

Emma looked nonplussed.

"I'm sorry, I Just had the feeling it's a boy. I shouldn't have assumed. A little girl? Come on, let's go through" Isobel led the way through the house.

"I'm sorry, m'lady. I'm a little confused. The mistress made out that we're expected, but you don't seem to know who we are." Emma looked uncomfortable.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me about how you ended up here, and we can sort out all the confusion, hmm? That's it. If you take the little one, I'll pour the tea. How do you like it? You said there was a letter? I suppose I should ask who your mistress is?" Isobel busied herself arranging the tea service and pouring 2 cups.

"Milk and 2 sugars please." Emma watched as this lovely kind lady poured the tea, then added. "My mistress is Mrs Grey. She asked me to bring Master John to you today, said you were expecting us and asked me to hand you this letter." She held out a small envelope.

As Isobel took the letter, she felt a cold trickle run down her back. She recognised the handwriting immediately, and it didn't bring back good memories. What on earth could Amelia be up to, writing to her and sending a child?

"Please help yourself to cake" said Isobel absently as she opened the letter.

Merton House, London

Dear Lady Merton,

You may find it absurd that I am writing to you of all people, but I find that you are the person I trust most to look after my son in my absence. I know you will care for him on his own merits, despite whatever animosity still lies between us.

Larry has to travel overseas urgently on business for the bank and requires that I go with him. I don't know how long we will be gone, but I have no desire to drag a baby along. By the time he realises that I have sent John to you, it will be too late to change our plans.

I have asked Emma to bring John to you. She has been with him since he was born: she's a lovely girl and gets on with him well. If you don't wish to keep employing her, please make sure she gets a good reference.

All the documents you might need are packed in John's cases. I will be in touch when I know more about where we are going and when we might be home.

Yours,

Amelia Grey

Isobel read the short letter 3 times. She couldn't quite believe that Amelia had actually sent her child to Yorkshire, to Grandparents who didn't know he existed, with no details about why, or when they may be back. Really! That woman!

Immediate practicalities encroached on Isobel's consciousness as the child began to fuss. Emma tried to shush him, but Isobel recognised the tone of the cry.

"It appears we're in a bit of a pickle, and someone is getting hungry. What does he usually have for lunch?" Isobel asked.

"He's still on bottle milk, m'lady. He hasn't started on solids yet. But I don't have anything more with us: he ate what we brought with us on the train." Emma stood and started to pace, bouncing John as she walked and offering him a knuckle to suck on.

"Right then, let's go through to the kitchen and get some lunch sorted. I'm sure Mrs Field can arrange something. We can check John's cases and I can quickly pop next door to the hospital and borrow anything we desperately need from the nursery there. Then after lunch we can plan what happens next. Lord Merton should be back from York soon, and I know he will be pleased to see you both."

Isobel had been preoccupied with arranging things at home and too busy trying to work out what she needed to borrow at the hospital to think of anything else, but now she had a box of supplies in her hands and was walking home her mind was turning over what had happened this morning. What was Amelia thinking?! And what was so urgent that they had traveled without their son? Come to think of it, she knew Larry despised her, but how could he be so cruel as to not even tell his Father that he was a Grandparent? Dickie. How would she tell Dickie? How would he take it? She didn't want the worry to make him ill again. And how long would John be with them? Might Amelia show up next week, unannounced and take him away again? Where would they put Emma and John? There was no nursery at Crawley House, and never had been as far as she knew. She was so lost in her thoughts, that she almost walked straight into Dickie's chest.

"Hello my dear" He smiled that beautiful smile he always had when he saw her. She wondered how long it would last. "A penny for those thoughts that have you so engrossed you nearly ran me down! Shall I take that box?"

"It's been quite the morning" Isobel said simply as she handed him the box. How would she tell him?

"Cousin Violet up to her old tricks, hmm? What is she up to this time?" Dickie smiled indulgently at her.

"No, not Cousin Violet. She was remarkably sanguine this morning." Isobel sighed. "But we have visitors. A nursemaid called Emma arrived from London just as I got home. We need to talk."