28th November 1931
"What a terrible night!" Siegfried exclaimed as he hurried into the kitchen at Windy Hill, shaking rainwater from his coat. "I could hardly see all the way up here."
"I was worried about you," Lily replied, helping divest him of his coat and hat. "I can 'ang these up 'ere to dry. Come through to the sitting room where the fire is." He followed her through and was instantly gratified by the hissing and crackling of the logs in the roaring fireplace, such a welcome sensation after the cold, wet evening's drive. "Can I get you a whisky?"
"Drinking before dinner? How very reckless," he smiled as she poured him a small glass. "But I would never say no to whisky." He waited until she had poured her own and then held his up in solidarity. "To us."
"To us," she repeated, swallowing some of the liquid and then meeting his gaze. "I'm very glad you're 'ere."
"And I'm very glad to be here." He placed his glass down on the table and pulled her into his arms. "Very glad indeed to be completely and utterly alone with you. I've been thinking about it all day…" before she could say anything, he kissed her and felt utterly gratified at the way she melted against him. It felt so good being there with her, holding her, kissing her, touching her…it was everything he could ever want and more.
"If we're not careful, we might get carried away," she said slightly breathlessly when they broke apart.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he joked.
"No, not at all." She kissed him that time, hard and forceful, full of a desire that he knew she possessed and yet also knew she had no idea how to harness. Her boundaries were flimsy, like fenceposts swaying in the mud. She was experiencing her first taste of the opposite sex, of wanting someone and being wanted and it would only be natural to crave something akin to what he could tell she craved and yet….it was up to him to remain steadfast and not give in to the ultimate temptation.
"Something smells wonderful," he said when they again moved apart.
"It's roast beef and all the trimmings. Oh, I know it's more of a Sunday dinner but, well, it's a dish that I know I'm good at so…"
"You're good at everything. I don't think you've ever presented me with anything that tasted less than perfect."
"You're just trying to butter me up," she laughed.
"And why would I do that?"
"I don't know. There's still much I 'ave to learn about you, Siegfried Farnon." She moved towards the door. "I'll just go and check the pots. Be back in a minute."
Her leaving gave him the opportunity to look around the small space and really see it for the first time in as many visits. Normally Tom would be ensconced in the armchair, or indeed elsewhere in the house, emitting an unwelcome air that made him inclined to focus on nothing more than what was in front of him rather than anything else. So being alone for the first time allowed him a chance to explore. The room was small and modestly furnished, but over on the sideboard he could see a number of photographs and he moved over to explore them. One was a wedding picture, clearly Tom and his late wife, another was of a young baby which could only be Lily and then a third. This one was a striking photograph of a young woman, half turned away from the camera, her eyes distant, her smile somewhat wistful. One thing he could say about it, was that she was uncommonly attractive.
"Me mother." He jumped at the sound of Lily's voice behind him. "Dad loves that picture of her. It's one of 'is favourites."
"She looks beautiful."
"She were twenty-one there. They were just married, and she got the picture taken for 'im. They were together another thirty odd years and I don't think 'e ever liked any picture as much as that one."
"You look very like her."
"Oh, I don't know…"
"You do," he insisted, turning to look at her. "Perhaps that's why you father has such difficulty with the thought of letting you go. He's already lost your mother."
"Perhaps," she agreed. "But that doesn't give 'im the right to dictate 'ow I live my life, does it?"
"No, not at all." He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I suppose all I'm saying is, I can understand why he wouldn't want to let go of something as beautiful as you."
She shook her head and smiled, "You do 'ave a way with words, don't you? I do 'ope you don't talk to all the ladies in Darrowby like that."
"As if I would, or could," he replied with mock horror at her suggestion. "I only have eyes for one woman in Darrowby and she's standing right in front of me." She held his gaze again for a long moment, and he knew the time had finally come. "Lily…" reaching out, he took her hands in his. "I hope you know how much I care about you…how much I love you. I think about you all the time, night and day. Nothing makes me happier than to spend time with you, whether it be at the surgery treating patients, or out on the road making my rounds, or walking in the hills, or just being right here. Much like your father, I suppose, I never imagined when I lost Evelyn that there could ever be anyone else that could make me feel the way she did and yet you…you do that and more. You have been so patient with me all these months and been a friend to me when I most likely didn't deserve it and…well…what I want to say…what I want to ask you is, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"
For a moment, she just looked at him, and a terrible sense of dread washed over him at the thought that she might, in fact, feel nothing of what he felt for her, as improbable as that seemed. Then her face broke into a wide smile and she threw herself into his arms. "Yes! Yes, my darling Siegfried, yes! Of course I will be your wife, of course I will!"
"Oh…" he felt quite suddenly taken aback and the breath he didn't realise he had been holding left his body so quickly as to almost make him feel faint. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him, her warmth bringing him back to himself as he took in the fact that she had accepted…she had said yes… "Oh…Lily…" he squeezed her and then pulled back to look at her. "I…I wasn't entirely sure what you would say."
"Weren't you?"
"No, I mean…I hoped, beyond everything, that you would say yes but…I confess I wasn't sure, though I'm not sure I would have been able to bear it had you said no."
"It's lucky I didn't then, isn't it?" she smiled.
"Yes, yes indeed it is," he replied, kissing her fiercely again before suddenly remembering the trinket to seal the deal. "And, of course…" reaching into his pocket he pulled out the small ring box and turned it towards her. "I chose it myself and I hope you like it." Gently pulling the box open, he watched her face as she caught sight of the diamond nestled inside and felt a huge surge of satisfaction as she put her hand to her chest and looked genuinely shocked.
"Siegfried it's…it's beautiful. Are you sure…are you sure it's for me?"
"Well, you're the only woman I have proposed marriage to this evening," he replied, taking it gently out of its holding and clasping her hand in his. "May I?" She nodded and he slid it gently onto her finger. "There. It looks perfect."
She looked at her hand, at the way the jewel caught the light, and then met his gaze again. "This is too much, really it is…"
"Nothing is too much for you, my darling," he said, sliding his arms around her waist again and pulling her close. "Nothing will ever be too much for you, I promise you that. I am going to give you everything that you have ever deserved and more. I love you, Lily Bailey."
Tears sprang into her eyes. "I love you too, Siegfried Farnon. I promise I'll be a good wife, I will."
"You don't have to promise me anything, except one thing."
"What's that?"
He smiled gently at her, "That you'll be happy, my darling. I want more than anything for you to be very, very happy."
XXXX
It felt as though she was floating ten feet above the ground. Siegfried was talking, sat as he was at the kitchen table, as she served up the dinner, but she wasn't entirely sure she was taking in anything he was saying. Every time she moved, the ring caught the light, and she felt a strange sensation in her stomach. She was engaged. She was going to be married. She was going to be married to him, a man she knew she loved more than she had ever thought possible, and yet it still felt as though it had to be happening to someone else. It seemed so unbelievable that in the space of a few short months she could go from never having laid eyes on him, to the prospect of being his wife.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Sorry, what?" she turned around suddenly to see him smiling at her indulgently. "Yes, of course I'm listening."
"What did I just say?"
"Uh…well…something about…cows?"
"Sheep, actually," he laughed, "but I suppose you weren't far off. You'd best be careful moving around hot pans and the like if you're not paying attention."
"I'm sorry," she said, placing the bowls of potatoes, peas and Yorkshire puddings on the table before sliding a plate of meat down in front of him. "Though you are to blame for my distraction."
"In a good way, I hope."
"In the best way," she bent and kissed him before sitting down at her own place. "My mind's already working ten to the dozen. There's so much to think about."
"Such as?"
"Well…when do you want to get married?"
"As soon as possible, I suppose," he replied. "Unless you think there's merit in waiting."
"No! No, not at all. 'ow soon is 'as soon as possible?'"
"Well…from memory the banns have to be called for three successive weeks before the wedding can take place. Given it won't be long until Christmas, I would propose perhaps shortly thereafter? January? Perhaps February at the latest?"
"That soon?"
"Would you prefer to wait longer?"
"No, I just…" she broke off, thinking over all that would need to be planned and organised. "Like I said, there's so much to think about. I 'ave to get a dress, we need to organise where the reception would be and the food. You'll 'ave to pick a best man, Tristan I assume?"
"I suppose it would be churlish to look beyond family first," he said, "though I dread to think what sort of speech he might think it appropriate to make."
"Bridesmaid. Who do I ask to be bridesmaid?" she looked at him as though he could provide an answer. "I don't 'ave…well…I don't rightly know who I would ask."
"I'm sure you'll be able to think of someone. You must have a few friends you could consider asking?"
"Yes, I suppose so…" she looked away, almost embarrassed to admit that she had let many of her friendships wane in recent years, not because she had wanted to, but because it had been easier to do that than to fight with her father for any kind of real independence. She ate in silence for a moment, mentally ticking off each aspect that would need to be considered. "Cake."
"Oh, I'm sure Mrs Hall would be delighted to make a cake for us."
"You can't assume that."
"No, but I can ask her, can't I? Speaking of which…" he paused and met her gaze. "Your father."
"What about 'im?"
"Well, tradition dictates that a man ask his intended bride's father for permission to marry her."
"And?"
"And…I presume I will require to ask yours for his."
"Why?" she replied stubbornly. "Surely it's my decision whether I want to marry you or not, not 'is."
"Yes, of course…"
"I've already given you my answer, so anything 'e might say would be totally irrelevant, wouldn't it? If 'e said 'e wasn't going to give 'is permission, I'm not going to change my mind."
"I'm glad to hear it," he smiled. "But perhaps it would be best to give him his place, nonetheless."
"Do you really want to ask 'im? Do you really want to put yourself through what 'e might say to you if you do?"
"What do you think he might say to me?"
"I don't know, but…I can imagine it might not be pleasant. 'e might mention Evelyn and 'ow I'm second best or…"
"What?" he stared at her. "Second best? Where on earth has that notion come from? Has he said that to you?" She looked away. "Lily? Has he said that to you?"
The memory of the conversation they had had after he had laid hands on her came flooding back. It had stung at the time, when he had said that she would always be second best to Evelyn, but she had done her best to put the comment behind her and tried to focus on the present. "'e might 'ave said something like that…"
"How dare he," He shook his head. "Just because he has elected to wallow in the misery of widowerhood doesn't mean the rest of us have to. I've mourned Evelyn for many years now, but I think I'm entitled to as much happiness as the next man. And as for you…" he reached across and clasped his hand over hers. "You are in no way second best. I don't ever want you to think that. You don't, do you?"
"Well…"
"Lily, please…"
"You can't expect it not to be on my mind a little bit," she said. "I mean, when we 'ad dinner that night in Helmsdale and we kissed and then you said…"
"But that was months ago! We barely knew each other then and I had no concept at that time of how I would fall in love with you!"
"I know that. I suppose…if she 'ad left you, or you 'ad left 'er, then it might be different because you would 'ave wanted to be apart. But she died. She left you when you didn't want 'er to and, if she 'adn't, you'd probably still be married today. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing and I would never want you to feel as though you couldn't still love 'er too, but I know me dad and I'm sure it's something 'e would like to throw in your face."
He sighed heavily. "Lily, I can't help the fact that I was married before, or that I loved Evelyn, but the truth is now that I love you, more than I could ever have thought possible. Before I met you, I suppose I was like your father. Set in my ways. Convinced that there would be no other chance of happiness and unsure whether or not I even deserved it. And then I met you, and everything changed, everything. If your father wants to throw in my face that you are second best to Evelyn then I will happily disavow him of that notion. Please…" he squeezed her hand again. "Let me speak to him. I won't ask his permission, I'll simply tell him of our plans and let that be an end to it."
"I reckon 'e might notice this first," she said, holding up her hand again. "Perhaps it would be better if I tell 'im first, then you could 'ave whatever conversation you wanted to 'ave with 'im after that."
"When does he get back?"
"Tomorrow, before lunch."
"Fine then. If you want to tell him, you do so. I'll be here, tomorrow afternoon, and I'll speak with him. I promise that everything will be all right. I want you to promise that this is not going to spoil how happy I know you were before I brought it up."
She smiled again, overwhelmed at the feeling of having someone care for her so deeply, love her so ardently and be so committed to making her happy. Part of her couldn't help but fear falling asleep and waking to find it had all been some sort of wonderful dream. "I promise."
XXXX
Sated by a full meal followed by chocolate pie and cream, Siegfried knew he was in danger of falling asleep in front of the fire. Dinner consumed, they had retired back to the sitting room where Lily had said she would make coffee and he had, instead, entreated her to simply sit with him for a while as he allowed the meal to digest. Outside, the wind was whistling loudly, leaving him in no doubt as to how the farm had acquired its name, but nothing could have felt more wonderful than being on the settee with her snuggled in beside him, his eyelids drooping.
"I'm glad you came," she said suddenly, and he moved his head in order to drop a kiss on the top of hers. "This 'as been one of the best nights of my life."
"I'm glad," he murmured, his lips against her hair. "Think of how many nights like these we have to come."
"Will we live at Skeldale House?"
"I would imagine so. Why, where else were you considering?"
"Nowhere. I assumed that would be the case, I just wasn't sure." She paused. "What about Audrey?"
"What about her?"
"Well…will we keep 'er on?"
The question roused him, and he pushed himself up so that he could look down into her eyes. "Why on earth wouldn't we keep her on?"
"Well…I suppose I just assumed…" her face coloured slightly. "I suppose I assumed that I'd be mistress of the 'ouse."
"As you will be."
"But then, well, shouldn't I take on the duties of 'ousekeeper?"
"Oh, you'll be far too busy for that," he replied. "Besides, Mrs Hall has been invaluable to me since I've been in Darrowby and I wouldn't want to lose her. Good housekeepers are hard to come by."
"But that's my point," she said. "I would step into the role of 'ousekeeper as your wife."
"I'm not having you run around picking up after Tristan, that's not your role. Besides, as I said, you'll be far too busy."
"Doing what, exactly? Bearing you children?"
"Well, I won't pretend that isn't a welcome idea, despite my own advancing years, but I was thinking more of you expanding your knowledge in terms of veterinary science. I wasn't joking before when I said about there being three Farnons' in the business under the one roof and you are eminently capable," he added as she opened her mouth seemingly to protest. "Don't think for a minute I'm going to allow you to squander your talent simply because you become my wife. If anything, it should enhance it."
"And there was me thinking 'aving me at the surgery was just a ruse to 'ave me near you," she smiled.
"Well, it was, but I don't see why it has to stop simply because we'd be married."
She shook her head. "I'm not sure there's many men who would think like you. I would think most would be like me father and believe that a woman's place is in the 'ome."
"Perhaps before the Great War, but not now. Women have shown themselves to be more than capable at many, many things and you are no exception." He paused and kissed her gently. "But of course, as I said, I want you to be happy, so if continuing to work with me wouldn't make you happy…"
"No it would, of course it would. I reckon I just might feel a bit strange with Mrs Hall cooking and cleaning for me when I'm fit and able to do it myself."
"Well, I'm sure if it concerned you that much you could come to some sort of arrangement," he conceded. "Those details can be worked out in due course."
"Yes, I'm sure they can." She reached up and kissed him, long and longingly and, before he had had time to properly react, she slid up onto her knees on the settee beside him before carefully moving one leg over his so that she was sitting facing him, her pelvis pressed snugly against his own. Instantly, he felt himself react to her, much as he had that day in the hills when she had seemed somewhat taken aback at the physical evidence of his desire for her.
"Lily…"
"Yes?" Her voice was low, warm, rich and inviting and he couldn't stop himself from placing his hands gently on her waist.
"I'm not sure…I mean, perhaps this isn't a very good idea…"
"Perhaps what isn't a very good idea?"
"Well…umm…this…" he broke off as her mouth met his again and his hands slid up her back, enjoying the feel of her body under them, his mind going to a hundred different, yet equally inappropriate, places. "Lily…"
"You were the one who asked if I'd ever been made love to," she said softly, pulling back and looking down at him.
"I did and it was improper of me."
"Because we're not married?"
"Well…yes."
"We're engaged," she waggled her fingers in front of him. "Doesn't that make a difference?"
His brain, body and mouth fought against each other as she sat astride him, her expression calm. The sensible part of his brain was screaming at him that it was improper, that lovemaking should be reserved for the marital bed, that he wouldn't have dreamed of laying hands on Evelyn until their wedding night when the two of them had stumbled through the awkwardness of virginity together. The more reckless side of his brain was reminding him that he was older now and that the world had changed, somewhat, since 1913, even if he had had no experience of it. His body was more resolutely focused in one direction. The pressure of her against him had only served to excite what had long lain dormant and which had started to come alive again of late at the thought of her.
"I know what I want," he said hoarsely.
"I do too," she whispered.
"I'm afraid of hurting you."
"Physically or…?"
"Both."
"You could never 'urt me, Siegfried, never." Her expression was warm and gentle and as he watched, she lifted her fingers to the delicate buttons of the blouse she was wearing and started to slowly loosen each one in turn. He stared, transfixed, as each action allowed more and more of her skin to become visible, down to the lace of her brassiere that snugly held her breasts. He could feel his breathing grow shallower as the blouse fell from her shoulders and, before he could stop himself, he pushed upwards, his arms going around her back, his mouth finding the warmth of her skin, his lips placing soft kisses on her collarbone.
She gasped softly, her hands straying to the back of his head and pulling him tighter into her as he grazed downwards towards the swell of her breasts. She felt different to Evelyn, the only other woman he had ever made love to, and yet the difference was not unwelcome. In fact, it was entirely the opposite and he suddenly felt red hot, burning desire rush through him as he lifted his hands to the fastening on her back.
"Not 'ere," she said suddenly, pulling back from him and getting to her feet.
"Where?" he asked, chilled by the loss of her next to him, despite the heat from the fire.
She held out her hand. "This way."
