He drove quickly to Windy Hill, perhaps too quickly, emboldened by the opportunity for being completely alone with her, her father long since dispatched to Cousin Joe's and the softness of her bed calling to them. It was all so terribly reckless and yet so wonderfully exhilarating at the same time. In some way, the near loss of their relationship, not least her life, had made them altogether more desperate for one another. Prior to falling in love with her, he would never have considered himself the type of man who would drive off in the countryside, find a sheltered spot and then fornicate with such joyful abandon. She had changed him, in so many ways. His parents…Evelyn…they would no longer recognise him, of that, he was sure. And yet, he didn't feel ashamed of it. Life was for the living. Given all that had happened, he was surer of that than ever.
As he pulled into the yard, he caught sight of her at the window, the door opened before he had even reached it, and little question as to how they intended to spend their time together.
"Dinner won't be ready for a bit," she murmured, her mouth crushed against his own as he gently pushed her backwards through the kitchen.
"Well, that's convenient," he replied. "I must confess that my appetite leans in a slightly different direction at the moment. Not that I'm sure whatever you intend to serve…"
"Siegfried?"
"What?" he pulled back and looked into her smiling face.
"Stop talking drivel and take me upstairs."
He glanced from her to the staircase and back again. "Well, I would endeavour to carry you, but…"
"Cheeky goat," she knocked him playfully on the arm. "You'll 'ave to catch me first." With a grin, she pushed away from him and hurried to the stairs, leaving him with little option but to pursue her. Squealing with laughter, she ran into the bedroom, stopping breathlessly by the bed and allowing him to take her in his arms again.
"I've got you."
"Yes, you 'ave."
With little patience for the niceties of the prelude to lovemaking, they quickly divested each other of their clothes and sank down onto the bed together. Running his hands over her body, he delighted at her gentle shuddering and the way she reached for him, almost as though she were practiced in the art of giving pleasure. "I never tire of this."
"Neither do I," she said, accepting his kiss. "It's been too long since we were able to be in a bed."
"My thoughts exactly. Somehow, the car is significantly less comfortable."
"But exciting."
"I suppose so," he kissed her again. "It won't be long until my bed is your bed, and we need never worry about driving into the hills again."
"Unless we want to."
"Of course," he smiled, "unless we want to."
"I love you."
"I love you too, my darling." She groaned softly as his mouth moved over the flesh of her throat, down across her breasts and then, lower, to the juncture of her thighs. Pausing, he looked up to see her watching him. "Did you enjoy what I did to you in Bexley?
"Yes…very much so…" she replied faintly.
"Well then, what the lady wants, the lady must have…" His breath gently stirred the hair on her abdomen, then he kissed along the inside of each thigh, causing her to mewl softly, before he plunged into her depths and she rose up from the bed, his name a mere breath on her lips. Over the course of the next few moments, she moaned and bucked and ground against him, her pleasure only serving to increase his own, until she climaxed around him, calling out his name once more before breathlessly sinking back down and allowing him to cover her body with his own. "I rather fear you enjoyed that," he joked, kissing her again.
"'ow could you tell?" she asked, looking up at him, her face flushed, her body rising and falling with exertion.
"Oh, I suppose it might have been the sounds that came out of your mouth or the feel of you against me…" He slid her thighs gently apart. "May I have my turn now?"
"Well, aren't we full of courtesy this evening," she replied, guiding him towards her entrance. "What if I were to say no?"
"Then I would, of course, stop," he replied nudging against her. "But I would rather hope…"
"I would never refuse you," she said, gasping as he pushed inside her. "Never…"
"As long as only I ever get to experience how wonderful you are."
"There would never be anyone else…could never be anyone else…"
"I'm so glad…" he gave in then to his needs, pushing and withdrawing from her slowly at first and then increasing in pace, moving against her and luxuriating in the feeling. How had he spent so many years without her? How had he lived without the knowledge of how wonderful it was to be inside her? How had he never relocated to Darrowby years earlier…?
His own climax was equally as loud and disorganised as hers and it was only through her holding him to her that he believed he managed to remain on the bed. It felt so incredibly wonderful, to the extent that he didn't want it to end, and yet knew that it must. Eventually, he collapsed against her, exhaustion quickly overtaking him, and he knew that were it not for her gentle persuasion, he would have been liable to fall into a slumber.
"I'll 'ave to check the pots," she said finally, sliding out from under him. "I don't want it to burn."
"No, indeed," he watched as she lifted her clothes from the floor and began to redress. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't put all your clothes back on."
She raised her eyebrows. "You expect me to cook and serve dinner in my slip?"
"No, not entirely but…a little could be left on show…for me."
"You're incorrigible," she laughed, pulling on her skirt and blouse. "'ow about I leave the buttons undone?"
"Perfect," he replied. Following suit, he half-heartedly redressed, putting on his trousers and shirt, but leaving the latter equally open, before following her downstairs to the kitchen, gratified once more that they were alone. "What would your father say if he knew what we had just been up to?"
"'e'd be liable to shoot you and disown me," she replied, moving over to the stove. "'e gave me a lecture about it earlier."
"A lecture about what?"
"About the ruination of a lass when she gives into a man. Of course, 'e said 'e knew I weren't like that, but 'e just wanted to remind me."
"I'm sure he did." He watched as she moved around the kitchen. "You don't feel forced, do you?"
"Forced?"
"As though I've made you give into me, made you bend to my base needs."
"Of course not," she laughed. "'aven't I been a willing participant on each and every occasion?"
"Sometimes the instigator," he reminded her with a raised eyebrow. "But I just meant that, well, you said that you would never refuse me, but there will be times that you'll have to and I just want you to know that that's all right."
"You mean like when I 'ave my monthly?"
"Well yes, exactly."
"I doubt you'd be interested in venturing to my nether regions during that time anyway," she laughed. "Don't worry, as much as I enjoy it, I do 'ave enough presence of mind to say no, if I need to."
"Good," he replied, then paused, suddenly aware of a noise outside that sounded suspiciously like a vehicle. "What's that?"
"Bloody 'ell!" she exclaimed, looking out of the front window. "It's Mr Dinsdale!"
"What is he doing here?"
"I don't know, but you'd better 'ide!"
"Well, presumably he's already seen my car and knows that I'm here," he pointed out, leaping to his feet.
"Yes, but you're barely dressed!" She reminded him, struggling to quickly button up her blouse. "Go in there and get yourself sorted!"
"Oh yes…of course!" Grabbing the remainder of his clothes, he ducked into the sitting room, hastily rebuttoning his shirt and throwing on his waistcoat.
"Mr Dinsdale," he heard her greet him, "everything all right?"
"I were looking for Mr Farnon. I went down to Skeldale House, and Mrs Hall said 'e were 'ere."
"Uh, yes…yes, 'e's here. 'e's…" she turned quickly, as he strode, fully dressed, into the kitchen and joined her at the door.
"What seems to be the trouble?"
"I've got a cow in distress," Henry replied, looking between them. "She's got 'erself trapped in a ditch and I think 'er leg's broken. Can you come and take a look?"
"Yes, yes of course. My bag's in the car," he replied, stepping outside before pausing and turning to her. "Lily, will you come with us?"
She paused, "I…"
"I don't think there's any need to trouble the lass…" Henry said.
"Nonsense, it's an ideal opportunity." He looked at her pointedly. "Lily?"
"Oh…uh…yes, of course. Just…just let me turn the pots down." He waited as she moved back across the kitchen and fidgeted around the stove before returning the door, her expression slightly apprehensive.
"Right, we'll follow you, Mr Dinsdale."
"Aye…right…" the other man looked between them again before turning back to his vehicle.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," she said quietly as she climbed into the passenger seat of Siegfried's car. "'e doesn't want me there."
"What he wants is irrelevant," he replied. "He's asked for my assistance, and I've decided to take you with me. As I said, it's an ideal opportunity for you to learn. You have to start again somewhere."
She said nothing, but he could feel the anxiety coming off her in waves as he followed Henry towards the Dinsdale farm. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to allow her to wait at Windy Hill, but he was conscious that the longer she refrained from getting back into the swing of assisting, the less chance there was of her ever regaining the confidence that she had once possessed.
When they reached the farm, she got out of the car and followed him across the field to where he could see the cow Henry had referred to. She appeared to have fallen into a ditch, her body turned awkwardly, one leg painful twisted in an unnatural direction and he felt his heart sink. Passing Lily his bag, he stepped closer to the beast, murmuring gently to her as he moved to feel her leg. To his dismay, his fears upon sight were only confirmed by the sensation of her bones under his fingers.
"Lily," he beckoned her forwards, and, after a brief moment's hesitation, she did as he asked. "Have a feel of her leg."
Tentatively, and with hands that he could see were shaking, she ran down the beast's leg. "It doesn't feel right. The bone feels like…" she paused. "Like it's broken 'ere."
He nodded and turned back to Henry. "The leg is badly broken. She must be in a lot of pain."
"Can you fix it?"
"Even if we were able to free her, the break is quite severe. I doubt that any treatment we could minister would do her any good in the long run."
"So, you're saying…"
"I'm saying that the kindest thing all round would be to put her out of her misery."
Henry swallowed hard and looked back at his beast. "She's been a good heifer over the years."
"I understand."
"Will you shoot 'er?"
"It's the kindest way."
"Can't you…can't you give her an injection, or something?" Lily asked. "I mean, when Mr Sharp's sheep had the listeriosis, you gave one of them an injection and…"
"That was different. A sheep is a much smaller animal. The amount of toxin it would need and the time it would take for it to take effect…we would be prolonging her suffering." He turned back to Henry. "Do you have a shotgun?"
"Aye," he replied. "I'll fetch it."
"Siegfried…" she stepped forward and put his hand on his arm. "Surely…"
"Lily, this is the best way, the only way. I understand that it's upsetting but, as vets, we have to rule with our heads, not our hearts." He paused at the look of sheer distress on her face. "You don't have to watch."
She met his gaze again. "This is what all vets 'ave to do though, isn't it? Make these decisions, kill when they 'ave to…"
"Euthanise is the preferred term, but yes. It's not the most pleasant part of the job. I became a vet in order to help and save animals, not send them to their deaths but, sometimes, we have no choice. Ah, thank you." He took the gun from Henry and checked the barrel.
"'ow will you do it?"
He looked at her again. "One shot, administered from around 20 centimetres away from her skull, aimed down the line of her neck. She's fairly secure so there shouldn't be any chance of it being unsuccessful." She nodded wordlessly. "If you and Mr Dinsdale could stand back and…avert your eyes." He waited as she and Henry moved back a few feet, but she didn't turn away. "Lily…"
"It's fine," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
He turned back to where the cow was watching him, and her very gaze felt as though it was going right through him. There was no rancour or fear that he could detect in her expression. Indeed, it was almost as though she understood what was about to happen and why.
"I'm sorry old girl," he said softly as he raised the gun and then squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked in his hands, the shot reverberating across the field as the cow jerked and then slumped to the ground. He waited for a moment before stepping over towards her to verify that she was, indeed, dead.
"That's it then," Henry said.
"Yes, that's it." Turning, he made his way back towards them, handing Henry back the gun before looking to her. "Are you all right?" She nodded, but he could see the shine of tears in her eyes and all he wanted to do in that moment was spirit her away from the scene of death.
"Thank you, Mr Farnon," Henry said. "I appreciate it. I won't take up any more of your time."
"It's no trouble, Mr Dinsdale, none at all. We were happy to help."
"Aye, well…" Henry looked sideways at Lily. "Best get the lass out of 'ere before she's liable to faint."
"I'm not going to faint," Lily said, before he had a chance to respond. "I'm fine."
"As you say," Henry said, turning away.
Lily opened her mouth to respond but he quickly shook his head at her and slid his hand into hers. "Come on, let's go. I'm ready for dinner now."
As they made their way back across the field, she squeezed his hand. "Am I pathetic?"
"No, why would you say that?"
"I've lived on a farm all my life and I've never seen a cow…what was it you called it…euthanised? Me dad would never 'ave let me near anything like that whereas most women my age born to that life would be as used to it as anything."
"Your circumstances have been quite unique, not that there's anything wrong with that."
"Mr Dinsdale clearly thought I couldn't 'andle it. No wonder folk think I've no business 'olding meself out as any kind of vet…"
"Listen to me," he stopped walking and turned to face her. "Do you think I blithely walked out of veterinary college and happily picked up a gun to pick off my first kill? I can assure you that the reality involved me standing holding a shotgun for the best part of ten minutes whilst my father tried cajoling, bribery and eventual shouting in order to get me to put some poor bull out of its misery many years ago. I remember sweating profusely and telling myself I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill this majestic animal and yet, I had no choice. I knew he was suffering, and I didn't want to prolong that any longer than necessary. So, I took a deep breath, and I pulled the trigger, and I've been taking deep breaths and pulling the trigger ever since. It's never easy, Lily, I can assure you. And anyone who claims they can walk up to any animal the very first time and pull the trigger without compunction is lying."
"I know, but…"
"You stood and watched. You didn't turn away, you didn't swoon…it's only natural to feel upset when it's something you've never seen before. That's not to say that you couldn't be a very good vet down the line."
"Siegfried…folk round 'ere will never accept…"
"I don't want to hear another word on that subject," he held up his hand. "The only person stopping herself from becoming a vet is Miss Lily Bailey, not anyone else. Yes, some people may take more convincing than others, but if it's what you want, then there is nothing standing in your way." He paused. "But it must be what you want."
"I want so many things," she replied. "I want to be your wife, I want to be a family and, if that's just you and me then…yes…I would like to see what else I could do."
"And I shall help you, every step of the way. Lord knows I've had enough practice with Tristan. Now," he slid his arm around her waist. "I really am quite famished so; may we head back to Windy Hill and eat before I'm liable to faint?"
XXXX
The atmosphere was somewhat altered from that which it had been prior to them going to the farm. She moved around the kitchen, checking the food and serving it, and they ate together companionably, but her mind was still on what she had seen and what the future held for her.
"I suppose, I 'ad never really thought about it," she said, as she cleared the plates. "About the other side of being a vet."
"Yes, well as I said, it's not the pleasant side, but it is necessary. Would you have been able to do it, do you think?"
"What, shoot the cow? I don't know. I suppose I'd 'ave to, if I were in that situation." She shuddered slightly. "Perhaps that's why folk think it's not a job for a woman."
"But, if you were a farmer, it would be part and parcel of your life."
"Mmm…" she poured them both coffee and then sat back down at the table across from him. "'ow would it work, I mean really?"
"How would what work?"
"Well…me being a vet."
"As it did before. You would assist me both in the surgery and on rounds."
"That doesn't make me a vet though."
"No, of course not, but hands on experience is vital. Forgive me for blowing my own trumpet, but you'll learn a lot from me, and you can put everything into practice for your exams."
She paused and stared at him, "Exams? What exams?"
"Well, you can't officially qualify until you've sat exams."
"Yes, but I told you before that I can't go to veterinary college…"
"Well, I rather think that's not the case, especially once we're married. I could put you through financially the same way I have Tristan."
"But…I've no formal schooling beyond the age of fifteen. There's no way I could…"
"Yes, I understand that, and I doubt very much that, once wed, I'd be that keen to have you far away studying in any event, so the alternative is to present you as an external candidate. Someone who isn't affiliated to a particular college."
"Can you do that?"
"Of course you can. I mean, it seems the most appropriate solution all round."
"I…well, I mean…" she broke off, lost for words. She had almost blithely assumed that she would just have continued to shadow him, picking up things here and there and perhaps, occasionally, offering her own individual advice, given time. But exams and qualifications and… "Does that mean, if I did pass these exams…that I'd 'ave to go out on my own?"
"Yes, eventually." Leaning across the table, he took her hands in his. "Don't look so worried. I'm hardly going to give you your own list on the first day and tell you to get on with it. Unless it's to treat listeriosis. You've proved yourself in that department already."
The cold fingers of reality curled around her as the memory of that night came back. Yes, she had administered the right treatment, but at what cost? The only person who had truly suffered, who had truly lost, was her.
"But we don't have to think about it now," he said suddenly, as though reading her mind. "Plenty of time for that. As I said, we'll start with you helping out again and take it from there." She nodded mutely. "Anyway, change of subject. Why don't we go riding next week?"
"Riding?"
"Yes, up at Hulton Hall. It's been too long, and Lady Hulton has asked after you every time I've been there of late. I'm sure she'd love to see you and we could trek into the woods again." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"You just want an excuse for us to 'ave to use that cottage again," she laughed.
"Well, I must confess that it is ideally situated should we find ourselves in need of shelter. But what do you say to riding? Do you feel physically up to the challenge?"
"I don't see why not, and it would be nice to see 'er Ladyship again."
"Splendid, I'll organise it." He sat back in his chair and surveyed her. "There's something very pleasing about just sitting opposite you, drinking coffee and making plans. For so many years I had no-one to discuss anything with. It makes a wonderful change. You make a wonderful change."
"As do you."
He paused and looked at her carefully. "If you had never met me, if we had never fallen in love and decided to get married…do you think you would have stayed here, at Windy Hill?"
She thought on the question, not that it hadn't plagued her mind so many times over the years. "I suppose, I probably would 'ave. I'd 'ave stayed 'ere and grown older and then, one day, when me dad had passed away, I'd 'ave to decide what to do."
"And what do you think you would have done?"
"I don't rightly know. Sold the place, I suppose. I'd 'ardly be in a position to work it meself. I suppose…" she paused, the thought suddenly striking her that she would still require to make such a decision in the future, despite her happy status. "I suppose I'll still 'ave to decide what to do, at some point."
"But I shall be by your side with ever helpful counsel," he smiled at her.
She smiled in return, "And I should want no-one else." The clock on the mantel suddenly chimed loudly, causing her to jump. "Look at the time. If you're not planning to spend the night, then you'd best be getting back to Skeldale House before Mrs Hall sends out a search party."
"I'm reluctant to leave," he admitted, rising to his feet, "but I know you're right." Coming around the table, he pulled her into an embrace. "Things will be different once we're married. I won't have to say goodnight to you."
"Well, you will, but I'll be lying beside you instead of up 'ere."
"And for that, I cannot wait." He kissed her again and she melted into him, the feeling of safety and security so profound. "Goodnight my darling."
"Goodnight," she replied, as he opened the door. "Drive safely."
"I promise I shall. Sleep well and I'll call you tomorrow, finalise arrangements for you to come to surgery on Monday, and don't try to protest," he said, as she opened her mouth. "For I won't hear of it. You might even teach Tristan a thing or two, Lord knows he needs it."
She watched as he climbed into the car and raised his hand before pulling away and driving slowly down the hill towards the road. She stood and watched until she could no longer see him and then gazed out at the darkened hills beyond. So many times she had stood and looked at the view over the years and whilst part of her had never grown tired of it, another part longed for a different view.
Even it was Darrowby Square and the Drovers Inn.