Chapter 18

It was late when we arrived downstairs. Tina and Aleksy were sitting at the table, empty plates before them and the scent of Eggs and Bacon still hanging in the air. "Wondered when you two would get down." She looked up at Bella. I see you found the clothes I sneaked into Daniel's room."

"Yes. Thank you, Tina."

Emma came in, having sensed that more hungry stomachs needed feeding. She looked at Bella and shouted for Gerry who rushed in. She looked at Bella and then back to Emma. "She's ruined for us now. Damn!"

Bella was smiling broadly. "I'll tell you when the spanking is, but you are not invited. My fiancé and I need privacy."

At first no one reacted to Bella's words. Then Tina looked up sharply. "Did you say Fiancé?" Bella nodded. Of course the girls rushed around to hug and kiss Bella, congratulating her.

Aleksy and I just shook our heads. "Is there any coffee left in that pot?" I enquired.

He lifted it and nodded. "Still hot, Boss."

A good breakfast set me up for the day. Aleksy and Tina went to view the cottage that Andy had promised to let and Bella and I lounged around. Suddenly she remembered something. "I brought Great aunt Arabella's diary. Do you want to read it?"

"I certainly would like to read it." Bella ran off to fetch the diary. She was back in minutes.

"I haven't brought all of them. She noted almost everything for the day and wrote the diary for seventy years. It can be tough reading at times. This one is nineteen o' eight, when she first gets to know Danbury. I glanced through the pages, pages of close feminine writing in a pale blue ink which had faded somewhat. This was going to be difficult.

Excerpt of Arabella's diary.

Twenty seventh of August nineteen hundred and eight. Dear diary. I have met him, the one, the man who I always knew was out there, the one who would make me his wife. It is so silly really, as our families have lived within a short horse ride for years. Unfortunately we are not considered to be right for their social standing as Daddy is a grocer and therefore trade. He is Sir Danbury Chandler and he is so handsome. I confess my heart almost stopped when first I saw him. His hair is deep brown with a lock that flops over his right eyebrow shadowing his lovely brown eyes. His face doesn't appear to be finished without the almost constant smile he wears. He is quite slim but not too tall, yet if I were to stand by him I would still have to look up. He is perfect. I am so happy that strangely he has no resemblance to his father, all that ginger hair and very pale-blue eyes within a pasty face ugh! It was quite by chance that I met him at his estate yard. I was riding by when I noticed the labourers scurrying round and arguing. Out of curiosity I rode over. It appeared that one of those internal combustion carriages had gone by and spooked the horses pulling the mower. They had bolted through the gateway, which was too narrow for the mower, it crashed into the wall and many of the blades are now seriously out of shape. Sir Danbury had been summoned and shortly he arrived at the gallop, leaping off his horse so fluently as if he was an acrobat. He seemed to understand the situation very quickly and I was amazed that he didn't start shouting at his men as I am certain his father would have done. He spoke quietly with his leading man and thought for a moment, then spoke again. There is one last field that needs to be harvested and it should be soon as rain is almost certain in the next few days. Without the mower the field must be harvested in the traditional way, men wielding scythes. The wonder of it all is that Sir Danbury will join the men to bring in the harvest. None of his labourers had ever heard of that before.

I was standing with the labourers wives and one whispered in my ear. "Setting your sights, Missy?" I must confess dear diary that I blushed. However she went on to say. "He's a good'un. You'll not do better. It will be much happier round here as well with him as Master. We knew that the first time he came down here. The cottages were in a bad way. He spoke to Alfie and suggested that if the men did the work, he would provide the materials and forgive the rent until the cottages were right again. No other master would have done that, certainly not old Sir Dashwood. May he rot!" I could empathise with that feeling, Sir Dashwood would hardly exchange the time of day with Daddy except when he needed to sell some of his land. He would thank Daddy profusely, then ignore him the next day.

They started the following day. Eight men and Sir Danbury. Alfie Sugg, the lead man took his place in the left of the line and drew a deep breath as he surveyed the field of wheat. He braced himself with the scythe and called to his men. "We will harvest this field in three days." He then swung his scythe and started his swathe. When he had bitten into the wheat for three swathes the next man to him, who was my Danbury studied his rhythm and matched his strokes. The other men did as Danbury did. It was a half arrow head led by Alfie Sugg. I asked one of the wives why they adopted this formation. "If they were all in line, it would be easy for a scythe to chop at another man's leg. Very nasty a scythe cut." Suddenly I heard Alfie sing. "Danny Boy." The other men sung the next line. "Danny Boy." Alfie sang again Danny Boy, the others repeated Danny Boy. Then all together they sang "Danny Boy, amongst the leaves so green oh". The simple refrain was repeated using one of the other's names. I realized that the song would help them keep in time. I also realized that Danny Boy was Sir Danbury.

The wife I had spoken to asked me if I had any vittles for my man. I shook my head. "He'll want something midday, Missy. Some nice bread and cheese and a flagon of small beer."

I was cast down for a moment. I hadn't thought of that. I raced to my horse that was contentedly cropping at some grass. "Come along Dapple. We have to get some food for our man." I set Dapple to gallop and she seemed to respond to my urgency. Within twenty minutes we were home at Meadowlea. I asked cook for the food. She understood what was required as I explained. Then I asked. "What is small beer?"

She smiled and went out to the scullery, returning with an earthenware flagon. "It's beer, Miss Swinson, but it is weaker than normal. Quenches the thirst but doesn't addle the wits."

I was back within the hour. The men had stopped and were running stones over their scythes. Wheat seemed so fragile but it seemed that it could blunt a scythe quite quickly. They did this quite regularly whenever Alfie called a halt. The women followed the men and gathered the mown stalks. They tied them with twine into bundles and set them upright together in stooks. There seemed quite a few stalks that had been missed by the scythe, Mistress Suggs told me that they were allowed to gather the uncut grain; she called it gleanings, and mill it for their own bread-making. Eventually Alfie called for food and drink. The men sat down gratefully and the women went out carrying the food and drink for their men.