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Sarah needed all her ability as an actress when she walked through the orchard and across the Manor gardens the next morning. She was so nervous that her hands had trembled as she had buttoned up her neat, tailored coat. She didn’t strictly speaking, need to wear a coat, but she had decided that it was suitable for a secretary and had dressed accordingly.

She stood for a long moment outside the front door, tracing out the legend ‘Invicta’ with the toe of her shoe, while she tried to summon up sufficient courage to ring the bell. In the end, she didn’t have to. The door was opened wide and Neil stood in the hall, openly laughing at her.

“Well, well, you look the part!” he teased her.

She coloured a little. “It’s important to me,” she began, then she broke off. “I’ve never done this kind of thing before. I didn’t want Robert to think that I wasn’t going to take it seriously! ”

Neil grinned. “I can see you’re going to give an immaculate performance! Lucky Robert!”

Sarah almost flounced past him, sadly put out. “I’m not playing a part! ” she assured him tartly.

“Why not?” he retorted. “I expect to play a part every day of my life, standing up there before a whole lot of small boys and trying to din a bit of knowledge into their heads!”

Sarah looked uncertain. “But this is real life,” she said.

Neil’s laughter rang through the house. “Come on, I’ll show you into the study. Robert was here a moment ago. Shall I go and find him?”

Sarah didn’t answer. She had not been in the study before and she gave a gasp of delight as the proportions of the book-lined wall met her eyes. “What a lovely room!” she exclaimed.

Neil perched himself on the edge of the desk and looked about him. “I suppose I’m used to it.” His eyes returned to her face. “It’s obvious you’ve never lived in a village before!” he accused her with mock severity. “You’d be more discreet if you had ! And you’d know better than to kiss your boy-friend bang in the middle of the village!”

“I didn’t,” Sarah protested. “He—he kissed me!”

Neil’s mocking look made her blush. “If you say so. Robert and I were on the other side of the river, and despite our best endeavours, we couldn’t see much of you—only the back of his head. Who is he, by the way?”

“Alec Farne. He’s the producer of the play I was going to be in.”

“And what was Smart Alec doing in Chaddoxbourne on a sunny afternoon in the middle of the week?”

Sarah blushed again. “His play isn’t going very well.”

“My word, and he came all this way to ask you to change your mind and take the part after all?”

She nodded, embarrassed. “I think so. But then my father had an attack of asthma and I was more worried about that.”

She was relieved that, at that moment, Robert came into the room and wished her a curt good morning. “I think we can manage without you, Neil,” he added. “Miss Blaney has come here to work, not to gossip!”

Neil went obediently, blowing her a light kiss from behind his brother’s back. “One doesn’t gossip with the people who are being gossiped about!” he said
sotto voce.
“All right, all right, I’m going!”

Sarah pretended that she was looking at the view out of the window. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Robert. It was not only the memory of his kissing her, but Neil’s ridiculous joking stood, like something tangible, between them. Behind her, Robert cleared his throat and she jumped round guiltily.

“There’s no need to look as though I’m going to hit you! ” he said irritably.

“Of course—of course not!”

“But you’re not taking any chances?”

She made a rush towards the desk, nearly tripping over a small hump in the carpet. With a mounting feeling of hysteria, she sat down on the nearest chair and waited for the blur of embarrassment to clear before her eyes.

“Heaven help you if you’re always so clumsy !” Robert barked at her, exasperated.

“I’m not!”

He looked amused. “It’s the unfortunate effect I have on you? Why are you looking so frightened? What did Neil say to you?”

“N-nothing much. He said you’d been just across the river when Alec—I don’t think he thinks I’m serious about this job either!” She sniffed, aware that she sounded pathetic and who, in Robert’s company, would ever want to sound anything so—so
dismal
?

“I believe you’re serious,” Robert said abruptly. “But Neil is right about people gossiping about you and Alec Farne. If you don’t want to have everyone talking about you, you’d do well to sort that young man out once and for all!” He studied her pale face and frowned. “Don’t look so sick at heart! All you’ve got to do is to tell him that you’re not interested—if you’re sure you’re not! ” He put his hands, tanned and long-fingered, flat down on the desk in front of her. “I don’t think you’re cut out to be a successful sinner,” he went on with a hint of a smile. “If you’re having an affair with him, it’s no business of mine, but I think you’d be much happier married to him.”

“But I’m not!”

He regarded her steadily. “No,” he said, “I don’t think you are. But you’d be a fool to be alone with him again if you don’t want him to kiss you.”

She gurgled with sudden laughter, her smile lighting up her face. “I don’t think I’ll condemn him for that. It might lead me into condemning others—” She allowed her voice to trail off, as she peeped up at him.

“Are you hoping for an apology?”

Sarah’s smile died away. “No,” she said quickly. “No, of course not!”

“Good, because you’re not going to get one.” He stood there, looking down at her, and she knew he was half hoping that she would smile up at him again, because it fascinated him to watch the procession of emotions that flickered across her face, whereas she would have given anything to veil her thoughts from him.

Sarah felt herself going red under his gaze. “I—I came to work, Mr. Chaddox,” she reminded him, folding her hands primly in front of her.

He started, looking disappointed. “All right,
Miss Blaney,
let’s get on with it!”

He was very businesslike. Sarah was hard put to it to keep up with him as they went briskly through the pile of letters on the desk. But when he had gone, she found the work easier than she had expected, and the morning flew past on wings. Robert’s housekeeper, Mrs. Vidler, brought her a cup of coffee in the middle of the morning, her deeply tanned face wreathed in smiles.

“Nice to have a young lady in the house ! Miss Blaney, isn’t it? I’ve heard in the village that your mother is on the stage? And your poor father is sickly? You’ve got your hands full and no mistake! We weren’t a bit surprised that Mr. Robert is taking an interest. There isn’t nothing that happens in the village that he doesn’t deal with. Settling down, are you?”

“Yes, yes, I am,” Sarah said.

“That’s right! Find it a bit lonely, I daresay? Not used to country ways, I’ll be bound. Why don’t you come to the Women’s Institute? We have quite a few young ladies who are members.”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought—”

“I’ll take you,” Mrs. Vidler said firmly. “Thursday afternoon at half-past two, down in the Hall. You don’t have to make up your mind all at once. You can come along as my guest. You’d do better to come along of me, as I’m to do with the Manor, than to wait for anyone else to ask you. It’s as well for them to know that you’ve got Mr. Robert standing behind you. That counts for a lot in these parts.”

“What about Neil?” Sarah asked, a trifle breathless by the pace of Mrs. Vidler’s conversation.

“Him? Ah, Mr. Neil is a fine young man, but he’s more on his mother’s side than a real Chaddox. It’s Mr. Robert who has all the responsibility, and quite right too!”

Sarah sipped her coffee. “I’d like to come to the Women’s Institute with you,” she said, “if my father is well enough to be left.”

“Ay, he’ll come first with you. You’re a good girl, Miss Sarah. There’s some of us in the village with eyes in our heads!” Mrs. Vidler scooped up Sarah’s empty cup. “Your mother sings, don’t she? Do you do anything of that yourself? It’s the competition, you see. We could do with a hand over that. It’s not much of a choir as it stands, and that’s a fact! ”

Sarah felt the first stirrings of triumph rise within her. She was being
accepted
, she thought. She bit her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

“She’s my stepmother—but I’d like to help, if I can,” she said aloud.

Mrs. Vidler gave her a satisfied nod. “Thought I wasn’t mistaken,” she said. “We’ll be needing a song. There was some talk of our doing ‘O, for the wings of a dove’, but what we need is something no one heard before. You’ll know all sorts of songs, I dare say. It’ll give us a start to have something new to sing!” And, with these ominous words, she departed, leaving Sarah half delighted and half fearful that she couldn’t possibly live up to the housekeeper’s expectations of her.

She enjoyed her visit to the W.I. that Thursday. The President was a frail old lady whose hold on the meeting was decidedly shaky, but she received such ardent support from all her members that it mattered little when she dozed off in the middle of the afternoon, overcome by the lengthy discourse on wild flowers that was the highlight of the meeting. Mrs. Vidler, with a no-nonsense air about her, turned into the secretary and read the minutes in a loud, clear voice that made Sarah want to giggle. She herself was sat down in front of the piano and told to play the music for their rendering of ‘Jerusalem’, and then found herself introduced as the person who was going to win the competition for them that Christmas.

Dazed by their kindness and the friendliness that everyone had shown her, Sarah walked home with Mrs. Vidler.

“Not much of a talk, was it?”

Sarah smiled. “I found it interesting. I know so little about the country and I don’t know the names of any of the flowers.”

“That one would teach her own grandmother to suck eggs! Doesn’t charge much, I’ll say that for her. Wouldn’t ask her otherwise.”

Sarah managed to say how impressed she had been with the whole meeting. “But you do so many different things!” she marvelled.

Mrs. Vidler smiled her satisfaction. “A bit of everything. It’s not just jam-making and re-modelling old hats, as they say. Thought you’d like it. Have you thought about a song for us to sing in the competition.”

“Well,” Sarah said slowly, “I was looking at Mr. Chaddox’s books yesterday. There’s a very old one, called Kentish Songs. It was published in 1775. I thought I’d have a look at them. The trouble is, it only gives the words and I don’t know where we’d find the music.”

“That wouldn’t be much trouble. Mr. Neil is always playing on the piano, making up tunes.”

“Then you think it a good idea?” Sarah asked tentatively.

“I wouldn’t be knowing about things like that. You get us a song, Miss Sarah, and we’ll sing it for you. It’s time Chaddoxboume showed we’re alive! In Mr. Robert’s father’s day he was always one of the judges and we were never allowed to compete because of it. The old gentleman would like us to bring home the prize all the same. Always on about the competition, he was!”

Mrs. Vidler walked with Sarah as far as her gate. “How’s your father today, Miss Sarah? Seems better during the week, don’t he? Maybe he does too much come Sundays, with your mother coming down to see him.”

“He’s very well today,” Sarah answered.

“That’s good ! Well, I’ll be seeing you in the morning. Goodbye, Miss Sarah.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Vidler.”

Sarah stayed on at the Manor after her work the next day, poring over the ancient collection of songs hoping to find something suitable for the competition. It was hard to concentrate on the main purpose of exploring the book, however, when there were so many gems to choose from. She tried reading them out loud, listening to the tilt of the words and imagining them being sung by an amateur choir. So intent was she on what she was doing that she didn’t notice when Neil came into the study and settled himself into a chair to listen to her.

“Very nice,” he commented, when she paused for breath. “Almost I can believe that you’re the matinee idol of the coastal resorts. Samantha says you are. We haven’t seen much of her recently, have we? Robert must be seeing her in Canterbury.” He grinned cheerfully. “Reckon the competition is too hot for him when I’m around?”

Sarah shook her head at him. “I doubt it.”

“You don’t do much to flatter my ego,” Neil complained.

“Do you want me to?”

“It would make a change. What’s the poetry reading in aid of? They sound more as though they ought to be sung than spoken.”

“That’s what I hope!” Sarah’s eyes lit with excitement. “Neil, Mrs. Vidler says you compose a little. Would you compose a tune for one of these songs? It’s for the competition—”

“Good lord, have you been dragged into that? My dear girl, they’ll flay you alive if Chaddoxbourne doesn’t win this year!”

“They’re going to win,” Sarah said stubbornly. “They sing quite well—”

“When have you ever heard them sing?” Neil scoffed. “At the meeting yesterday. Neil, will you?”

“If it pleases my lady, I suppose I will. Let’s have a look at the book. You know, Robert would be much more help to you than I. I tinker about on the piano, but he really knows his stuff. Does he know that you’ve borrowed this book, incidentally?”

“No,” Sarah admitted. “He wasn’t here to ask—and I haven’t taken it out of this room.” She stifled a qualm of nervousness at Neil’s mocking expression. “Will he mind?”

“Probably.”

“Oh, then perhaps we should put it back. Only it’s just what I wanted ! Mrs. Vidler said it would be better if the song could be a local one, and I have been terribly careful of it.”

“Really, Sarah!” Neil picked up the book and began turning over the pages. “Did I hear Mrs. Vidler calling you Miss Sarah, by the way? I hope you’re properly complimented?”

Sarah looked doubtful. “Should I be?”

“Mmm, you bet! One of the family!” He smiled at her. “Not quite the prettiest member, I grant you, but I’m beginning to think one of the most interesting.”

“I don’t think she knows my surname,” Sarah said, confused. “Neil, I think we should ask Robert before we borrow his book.”