All the dear faces (56 page)

He lounged opposite her on the settle, his long legs stretched out before him crossed at the ankle, his hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets. He had removed hisboots and his stockinged feet were close to the fire. His eyes were on her and when she looked up at him he smiled, sat up and leaned forward.

“
May I kiss you again?" he asked softly, whimsically. "You needed no permission this morning." Her own tone was light.

“
I am an impetuous devil at times," but though the words were humorous the expression in his eyes was very serious.

“
I noticed."

“
You did not object?"

“
No."

“
Then . . . may I?
”

She leaned towards him, lifting her mouth and he took her lips with the sweet delicacy which is the mark of the true lover. When they drew apart his eyes were steady, candid, filled with the deep and endless love which was hers for the taking. It was all there, everything she needed, just as he was always there when she needed him. He was so fine, Charlie, so fine and good. Trustworthy, making light of everything from the twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours' work he often did each day, to the poor state of his old boots, but trustworthy, honest. A man of his word. A gentleman, not just by birth, which he was, but in his very nature. He made her laugh with his droll humour but he was a man, not a milksop, and could curse with the fluency of a soldier. He was her true friend but she knew he wanted more and if she turned him away could he be expected to stay and continue as if this morning had not happened? Her heart ached with the thought of losing his friendship, the deep, satisfying companionship and support which had always been there when she needed it. He had gone away once because of her love for Reed Macauley. Would he do so again for there was no doubt in her mind, no swerving from the truth in her heart which was that she loved Reed and would do so until the day she died. Should she tell Charlie this? There should be truth and trust between friends, as there was between herself and Phoebe, but would the same apply to the man
who sat opposite her? There was a great deal of difference in Charlie's masculine love to the female affection she and Phoebe shared.

“
I love you, Annabelle Abbott. Will you marry me?"

“
Oh, Charlie . . . !" She was taken aback. Though she had expected something, a declaration of his love, something, it had not been an offer of marriage and for one awful moment she was terror-stricken. Not marriage, no . . . not marriage for it was so final, so irrevocable. Reed was married but he had said . . . a divorce . . . no, don't be foolish. . . and if she married Charlie . . . she would be tied, this dreadful voice said and then if Reed got a .. . could be made free to marry her . . . No! . . . No! . . . it's not possible . . . folly. . . madness. . . and yet something inside her struggled desperately to avoid the commitment Charlie was asking her to make. But think of the peace, another voice said, the comfort, the protection, the end to the perpetual storm of Reed's love, his demanding love which, if she did not marry Charlie, and end it, would go on and on until she succumbed to it, and him.

“
I had not thought of marriage, Charlie," she said slowly. Her thoughts, so many and varied, so harrowing and conflicting had taken but a few seconds and he seemed to assume her hesitation to be no more than any woman's at the offer of marriage and yet a woman who loves, in the way a woman truly loves a man, will not hesitate.

“
I have thought of nothing else, my darling. I love you . . . so much, there are no words to describe it." He smiled, a smile of such blinding sweetness, understanding and love she felt the warmth of it, the glowing tender warmth wrap about her, hold her in safe arms, as his would be, but again she hesitated.

“
I said once that I loved you, Charlie, do you remember?"

“
Yes, but you meant . . . as a friend. I can tell the difference, my love, but it seems I do not care. I want you to come to me and ... I nearly said `to be mine' but I don't believe that one human being can possess another ..
How wrong you are, dear Charlie .. .

“
. . . I want you to love me in any way you can. Love is such a worthwhile emotion and should not be despised if it is . . . not quite what one hopes for, but if you will marry me there is no doubt in my mind, none, that what we will have will be a worthwhile thing, Annie. Don't waste it, my lovely girl, don't waste us."

“
Charlie, sweet, darling, Charlie . . .
”

An appalled expression flooded his eyes. "Christ, you're going to say 'no', aren't you?" He made a small, painful sound in his throat and turned away from her to hide his fear. Bonnie, sensing the distress in him got up and came to his knee and Charlie placed a trembling hand on the animal's head. His pale, cat-like eyes were almost black in the dim light as the pupils widened and darkened.

“
Charlie, I'm not ready yet, to say yes or no." You lie, the cool voice within her said. If Reed Macauley, free of all encumbrances, stood before you with an offer of marriage you would snap it up so eagerly you would take his hand off at the wrist to get at it. And yet it was true, what she had said to Charlie. She was still not the Annie Abbott she had been once. She was not in a fit state to make any decision and to take Charlie's love and twist it for her own convenience was not only unfair but cruel. The temptation was great. To thankfully fall into his arms. Let him take her to bed, now, tonight, so that in the morning she would, despite what he said, belong to him. There would be no looking back to Reed Macauley, nor looking forward to the foolish promise he had made. It would be irreversible, no going back or changing her mind, no more decisions to be made. She and Charlie, the farm, perhaps children .. . oh, yes, another child, a daughter . . . like Cat, but not Cat for she would have Charlie's blood in her, a son . . . a boy to inherit the farm. She would be Mrs Charles Lucas, respectable, no longer Annie Abbott, the woman from Browhead. The farm would grow and prosper. Her future, with Charlie to stand beside her, work beside her, would be secure, hard, for certain, but secure in Charlie's love. She was well aware that in the last few months she had
let her weakened state lean on Charlie, had allowed him to anticipate perhaps, more than she intended. They had shared secret smiles, a subtle changing in their relationship, a small degree of intimacy which had suggested, hinted at, a growth of it in the future
.

He turned back to her, his hands reaching for hers and he did his best to smile.

“
Annie . . ." He looked down at their twined fingers and his throat worked painfully. She wanted to soothe him, comfort him, run her fingers through his brown thatch of curls and smooth them from his forehead. Her loving friendship surged through her on a great tide and she almost said it. Almost said 'yes'. She wanted to lift the misery which had come upon him, which she had caused. Take him in her arms and tell him she would be his wife and anything else he wanted until their wedding day, but it was not love that made her want to do it, but compassion. How could she hurt him when he had given her so much? Her sanity. A reason to live.

“
Annie," he began again. "I have hoped, these last weeks. . . ."

“
I know, Charlie, and perhaps . . .
”

At once he looked up at her, hopeful, ready to smile if she would.

“
Perhaps . . . Annie?"

“
When I'm . . . oh Charlie, you know how much . . ." "Yes? How much you love me? You must not say it if you don't mean it."

“
I do mean it."

“
A man and a woman love in a special way, Annie. Good Christ, you know that." His voice was passionate,
. . and that is what I want from you but if you can't give me that, then by God, I'll take anything you can give me. Bloody hell, I'm not proud, Annie, I'm a man who loves . . ."

“
I know, Charlie, but . . ."

“
Let it . . . lie for now, Annie. Don't say no. Think about it. Dammit, I shouldn't be pushing you, not now when you are still mourning . . ."

“
I'm .. . I still seem to be incapable of decisions, Charlie. My mind is stunned . . . sometimes, and it .. . hurts ... I hurt so much without her."

“
Ssh . . . ssh . . . my love . . ." and without conscious thought, without the sexual ardour which had so unmanned him that morning he drew her from her chair and on to the settle beside him. His arms were round her tightly and hers crept about his neck. Her wet face pressed into the hollow beneath his chin as the devastation of her grief overwhelmed her and he rocked her back and forth. The thick plait of her hair became untwisted and it fell in a rippling, dishevelled tide about her face and shoulders, falling down her back to her waist and across her breast. His hands gripped it and his arms crushed her shivering body to him, his love, strong and incontestable, holding her secure in her grief.

“
Oh, Charlie, what would I do without you?"

“
There is no need to wonder, sweetheart, for I have no intention of going anywhere."

“
Charlie, I lo . . ."

“
No . . . no, don't say it. Not now. Not until you mean it in the way I want you to mean it. But . . . Annie .. . don't take away my hope. You know you and I could live a good life together. To be friends, to trust one another as you and I do is a fine start. The best. The rest will come, my darling. I won't rush you, though being a man of normal needs I want nothing more than to pick you up and take you to bed . . ."

“
That would be . . ."

“
Please . . . don't say it, whatever it is. I cannot find it in me, tempting as it is, to take advantage of your .. . vulnerability." He laughed softly. "If anyone had told me, years ago, when I was a hot-blooded youth, that I would say such a thing to a woman 1 would have thought them mad.
”

She had quietened now, lying calmly in his arms, her head on his shoulder, and he spoke into her tumbled hair. His lips touched her brow, moving softly to the smooth white flesh, pleasant but undemanding.

“
But I was not in love then, Annie, and, being a male, a willing female, no matter her weakened state nor what had caused it, was fair game. I am a different man now. You have made me so. Now then . . ." he became brisk, "it's time we were in our beds . . . yes, I can even say that, Annie Abbott, though I warn you that I mean to get you into mine one day.
”

They were both smiling as he put the 'curfew' on the fire. She turned on the bottom stair to watch him as he opened the door to let out the dogs for the last time and unbidden, Reed Macauley's words, so like Charlie's in their content, came back to her.

“
I won't give up, Annie," he had said. As Charlie had just said and though she continued to smile her heart was heavy and painful, torn as it was between two men's love.

Chapter
31

Annie was high on the fell. It was October and time for `raking' in the gimmer ewes for breeding, and swirling before her in a constantly shifting pattern were her flock. As Blackie moved away from them, coming to crouch beside her, they formed into a long grey ribbon, one behind the other, moving purposefully down towards the intakes. They went at a steady pace with no need of a push and Blackie watched them, looking out for any rebel which might be diverted by a sweeter patch of heather. The lambs were as big as their dams now, fine and sturdy. They were weaned, completely self-sufficient, and when Annie had selected those she was to keep for breeding purposes, the rest would go to the lamb fair. The Keswick Tup Fair would take place next week on the first Saturday in October and it was there she would sell her surplus stock and hire a ram for the season
.

It was the real start of the sheep farmer's year. The libido of the tups, which included the one she meant to hire next week, was at this time in the calendar mysteriously ready to be linked to any ewe which they could heave themselves on to, and every ewe must have her chance. If she was not mated she could not carry a lamb through the winter months and there would be no profit in that for Annie Abbott
.

Far below, almost out of sight, Charlie, with Bonnie a minute speck of darker colour beside him, was herding part of her flock into the walled inland pastures where they would fatten up for a week in readiness for the backend fair and, away to her left beyond Broad End and completely hidden from her, Natty was raking another dozen or so who had wandered that way. They were still on their own
'hear but in that mindless way a sheep has, a few had gone one way and a few the other. He had his dog with him, ready to take them down with the rest, and occasionally Annie could hear the faint but piercing whistle which Natty used to give it orders.

“
Steady,
Blackie
," she murmured as the dog, one foot raised, looked up at her questioningly, waiting for her command to take the sheep down. He knew as well as she did where they were going and how to get them there and even, she often thought, why they were going. Almost four years now since Reed had left him and Bonnie tied to her door and in that time they had proved to be friend and protector and as good as any sheepdog she had ever known. A sheep will soon learn to outwit man but will seldom challenge the prowess of a well trained dog, and all the dogs asked in return for their labour and faithfulness was a good meal once a day, a decent bed and a little kindness.