Downstairs the party for the grown ups was just as big a success. Anna was having a fabulous evening, catching up with old friends and gleaning all the bits and pieces of gossip. John was kept busy too, especially with Mr Branson, who was keen to ask his advice on running a hotel, with some delicious plan brewing for opening his own establishment. Flattered to have his advice sought out, John had sat over several glasses of juice with Branson and his notepad, pouring forth all of the knowledge he had gleaned during his time in Whitby. After a short while, Mr Moseley joined the little gathering, which freed up Phyllis and Anna to socialise and dance.
John frowned slightly to see Anna joining in with a dance, but did not have the heart to reprimand her. She had not danced since their trip to Scotland with the Crawley family, that last glorious summer before the dreaded Green intruded so horribly into their lives. The pace was sedate, and Phyllis on hand to keep an eye on her, and there were plenty of chairs close by if they were needed. Dr Clarkson was in the room too, which appeased John's worries somewhat, but still they lingered.
Mary, too, was concerned to see Anna joining the dance. With more personal experience than most, she knew exactly what unaccustomed physical exertion could bring on for an expectant mother, and Anna's health had been far more frail than her own had been when George's arrival was imminent. She telegraphed her concern to Isobel across the room, who caught the glance and came over to join her.
"I think you're right dear," she said softly. "She is overdoing it a little bit."
"Should we intervene?"
Isobel smiled at the idea of Mary asking for anyone's permission to intervene.
"Perhaps the offer of a lift home might be a good and timely intervention? My own feet at starting to swell, we could take them with us."
Mary gazed down at her son's grandmother, suddenly grateful that this lovely and sensible woman had not vanished entirely from their lives, as could have happened in the wake of their shared tragedy.
"Would you mind? You are a darling Isobel."
"Not a bit. I shall pop and have a word with Barrow, see if he can send my car around. Then we can start gathering people up."
However, for the first time that evening, the plans that were being carefully laid were not going so smoothly. Barrow came over to meet Isobel in the hallway.
"Ah Barrow, just the man, I wonder if..."
"Mrs Clarkson, I was just..."
They stopped and smiled at each other. Isobel gave a small hand gesture indicating that he should speak.
"I was just coming to find Lady Mary, but perhaps you had better come and see for yourself..."
"Whatever's the matter Barrow?"
"Nothing in the Abbey, Mrs Clarkson, but I've just taken a peak out of the windows, and now I wish I had done so earlier..."
While talking, he drew her over towards the long windows beside the door and drew back the heavy lined velvet curtains.
Isobel gasped. The world outside was blanked out. Thick snow lay across the courtyard in front of the Abbey doors, and flakes the size of cotton wool balls were whirling through the sky, reflected in the gleam of the lights from the window.
"Oh Goodness! When did this start?"
"No more than half an hour ago, that's when I last checked. But look how thick it's come down since then. It's going to be dangerous out there."
Barrow was right, no doubt about it. If that much had settled in less than 30 minutes, and there was more to come, this was in for the night and no mistake.
"Isobel, has Barrow sent for your car yet?" Mary's voice echoed behind them as she emerged from the drawing room. "What are you doing at the window?"
"Mary dear, the weather has turned. And quickly too... Do come and see..."
Clattering across the parquet floor, Mary hastened over for a peep.
"Oh dear... Barrow, could you ask for the cars to be brought around? It think it might be best if we draw this evening to a close so that people can get home. And do rouse Parks would you? I think some people who walked here might need a lift back to the village if they're going to arrive in one piece."
"Very good Milady."
Isobel and Anna's eyes met.
"Is it safe for her to travel?"
"Is there any other alternative?"
"Lady Mary?"
Dr Clarkson's voice brought them to a joint halt.
"You'd best come... it's Anna..."
...
"John, honestly, I am fine, it was just a twinge..."
"Darling, you are awfully far along to be dismissing such things as 'just a twinge'."
"But I feel fine, honestly..."
"Anna..." Phyllis remonstrated. "You need to take more care of yourself. Was it like the one you had earlier?"
"Earlier?"
"John, it was nothing, I used to get these when Josie was due all the time..."
Anna, flanked by her husband and well meaning friends, was beginning to feel hemmed in, pinned into her chair, plied with glasses of water and plates of nibbles. True, she had felt a little light headed towards the end of the dance, and her stomach had twinged a little more strongly than earlier, causing her to reach for Phyllis's arm, a gesture that had not been missed by any of her devoted entourage.
"Anna..? What is it, is everything alright...?"
"It was just a twinge, in my stomach, and I felt a little light headed was all..."
"Do you think we should take her home, Lady Mary?"
"No, absolutely not."
John and Bill raised their heads in surprise at the firmness of Mary's tone, having forgotten just how commanding she could be when she felt strongly about a situation.
"And I'm not just saying that to be difficult, there are good reasons."
Mary crouched in front of Anna and took her hands, peaking into her white face.
"I had a twinge after a dance once, when I was some weeks away from being at my time. And a bumpy journey home did me no good at all, in terms of it being 'nothing'."
Anna met her old friend and employer's eyes and saw the genuine worry reflected there, borne of personal experience. She sighed and nodded.
"I think you should stay here. You, John and Josie. And you too Isobel, and Dr Clarkson, I'd be grateful to have you here tonight."
"Isn't that a bit over cautious Lady Mary?" Dr Clarkson was surprised at the unexpected invitation, which bordered upon a command.
"If you'll take a look out of the window Dr Clarkson, you'll understand why."
Dr Clarkson, accompanied by John, went to peek out between the curtains. The snow was now more than six inches thick, and still falling fast.
"By God..." Clarkson murmured. "We'd be lucky to see the road, let alone stick to it. If we were all fit and well, it would be a bumpy ride indeed, and a risky one..."
"...but we're not all fit and well, are we Doctor?"
John's face was etched with worry for his wife, who had already endured so much during this pregnancy.
"Mary's right. If I leave now, I might make it home just fine, but there is no guarantee that I could get back here if Anna needed medical attention. Or even make it to Yew Tree Farm, in this weather. The best thing we can do now is to stay put. It might just be a twinge, and we can all go home safely in the morning light when Mr Branson's men have cleared the roads. But if it's not just a twinge..."
The memory of another young woman who had died unnecessarily in child birth at this very house, due to a medical mistake made by an overconfident doctor, still weighted heavily on Clarkson's memory. Not again. Not on his watch.
"I would certainly feel better if you were here, Doctor."
"Then here I shall be John."
The two men did not shake hands, but their eyes met and sealed the deal with all the intensity of a gentleman's agreement.
Rejoining their ladies and friends, they began to make plans.
"I'll go and tell Nanny Greyson, we'll now definitely need a bed for Josie" said Mary. "And I'll ask Henry and Tom to start bringing the evening to a close. Those who need to get home should go now, to make the journey safely. Barrow, could you start finding coats and wraps for people now please..."
In a flash, she was gone, marshaling her troops, setting about her tasks. John felt the sensation of relief settle over him, just as it had when he and his family had arrived at Yew Tree Farm and been delivered into the care of their friends. It was going to be alright. Anna clasped his hand tightly. Everything was going to be fine.