Anabelle spent a few minutes calming her step-mother's flustered sensibilities, but Mrs Latimer's attention soon fell upon more important matters when Sir Henry sought out her sister for the next dance.

The sight of them together caused Mrs Latimer's feather to shiver with maternal pride. "You know they have danced once already. For Sir Henry to ask Selina again is a very good sign, don't you think?"

"She looks very happy," Anabelle said, not wishing to raise her step-mother's expectations beyond what was reasonable.

"What an excellent thing it will be to have two daughters married!"

"Do you not think it a little early to consider Selina as good as married? This is only the second time they have met. I think she and Sir Henry ought to become better acquainted before we can say with any certainty where it may lead."

"Yes, but Sir Henry did say that he plans to spend the winter at Blackwood, so they will have every opportunity to socialise frequently." Mrs Latimer peered across the room. "Who is that gentleman over there, speaking with Miss Mountford?"

Anabelle followed Mrs Latimer's gaze. "That is Mr. Langdale. A cousin of theirs, I believe, and a guest of Sir Henry at Blackwood."

"Hmm. He is very well dressed, and his deportment seems refined. Do you know anything of his situation?"

"No, ma'am. I know no more of him than his name."

Mrs Latimer sighed. "You will soon be a married woman, Anabelle, with a responsibility to think of your sisters' future happiness. You must be alive to every opportunity. Mr. Langdale could be perfect for Diana. I wonder if he has any fortune? I must ask my sister if she knows anything of the gentleman." Seeing Mrs Orton across the room, Mrs Latimer left Anabelle to her own devices.

She had barely had a moment to wonder where Mr. Fielding was before he appeared at her side, bearing a glass of lemonade. Once she had refreshed herself he said, "May I tempt you back onto the dance floor, Miss Latimer?"

"If you are willing to suffer through another crush for the sake of dancing with me, your admiration must be stronger than even I realised."

His dark eyes looked down into hers, as though searching her very soul. "You are exquisite, and well you know it. I have never much enjoyed dancing before, but it seems that I only needed the right partner."

Not yet accustomed to his flattery, Anabelle felt herself colour. She held out her hand as the band struck up the first notes of a cotillion. "In that case it would be cruel of me to refuse you."

By this time the floor was quite crowded and, to avoid bumping into anyone, Mr. Fielding pulled her closer to his side than was proper, his eyes never leaving hers unless he was forced by the steps to cast off or otherwise turn away. Within their circle of four couples she was never more than a few steps from Mr. Fielding, and when his hand reached for hers it felt more intimate than with any of the other gentlemen in their group.

While she waited to take her turn Anabelle grew sensible of the conversations swirling around them. As always while dancing the exchange of local gossip was almost as important as the figures, and snippets of news swapped hands with a greater frequency than one changed partners.

As she circled around the outside of their group she caught brief scraps of gossip.

"...he has family in the north, you know, near Scarborough..."

She thought it very natural that Sir Henry would be the object of such interest and speculation in a neighbourhood where he had recently become resident. No less than now, when he had charmed them all with his cheerful and easygoing nature.

"...I understand he owns a very grand estate in Yorkshire...almost a palace!"

And it seemed that her betrothed's circumstances were now also a matter of public discussion, as he himself had predicted only that morning. Behind Anabelle, Mrs Fisher and Mrs Robinson were also talking. She had not intended to eavesdrop but the mention of a familiar name drew her notice.

"I was never so shocked as when I heard about Mr. Fielding!" Mrs Fisher cried, her voice raised to carry above the music. "A gentleman with impeccable connections, and worth twelve thousand a year, if he has a penny! It must be true, for Mr. Latimer told me himself."

Mrs Robinson pronounced the Latimer family the most fortunate in the parish.

Hearing how the gossip and speculation had grown with every re-telling, Anabelle grinned as she imagined what Mr. Fielding would say when she described how his situation had now inflated beyond anything a steward might aspire to.

When the dance was over, he returned her to the side of the room. "I am curious to learn what has made you smile so."

"News of your circumstances has spread rapidly, beyond even your wildest dreams. Rather than being thought a steward the local gossips have now crowned you no less than a prince among men, living in a grand palace in Yorkshire with twelve thousand pounds a year to your name." She imagined the picture they had created and rolled her eyes. "How they arrived at such an incredible sum I have no notion."

"Meltham Park is not a palace, and I am not a prince, but I cannot deny that when my father died I inherited the estate in an excellent financial position. With judicious management the estate has only prospered. I am most fortunate in my situation, so as you see, I am well able to afford a wife."

Anabelle tapped his arm. "Please do not tease me so! You should not jest about such things."

"It may be a failing of mine, but I cannot bring myself to joke about money, particularly when it is my own."

"But...but twelve thousand a year? It is wholly impossible!"

He urged her to the side of the room until they found themselves a quiet corner. "There is nothing impossible about it, but I did not imagine it would make you so unhappy."

Anabelle managed a weak smile. "Mr. Fielding, please believe me when I tell you I had no idea about your income."

"And well I know it! Instead you thought me a penniless steward, not even able to keep Miss Latimer in the style to which she was accustomed." He leaned closer, his warm breath against her neck making her shiver. "As you will be helping me to spend that money, the least you can do is call me by my Christian name. I have a sudden desire to hear it upon your lips."

Anabelle glanced around to make sure no one was close, then she blushed and lowered her voice. "Anthony... I could never spend such a fortune, no matter how hard I might try."

"That is just one of the many reasons why I love you. Although I have no concerns of you bankrupting me with extravagant tastes, neither would I wish you to to be without those little comforts commonly enjoyed by ladies. Yet no young woman can excel at anything if she does not practise, and I will ensure you have every opportunity to spend my money. We shall start on small items...jewellery, gloves, and maybe a book or two. Then once you have accustomed yourself to presenting me with those trifling bills we can perhaps move on to the Bond Street modistes. I am sure I can trust my aunt to recommend the most outrageously expensive."

"You know I could not possibly—"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "You do not know what you are capable of until you try. Once you have proven an adept student I am sure you will want to redecorate your sitting room and perhaps order one or two items from Gillow's. My dearest Anabelle, I would buy you the world if I thought it would make you happy."

His words, spoken in the gentle tone he reserved just for her, made her heart swell with happiness. "Then it is fortunate for you that my needs are so modest, for I am sure the whole world would be beyond even your means. Besides, I have nowhere to put it."

He lifted her hand, brushing his lips against her fingers. "That is no great impediment. If you feel it necessary I could buy you a box to keep it in."

"I have no desire for the whole world. Just give me the small part wherever you are, and let me keep it next to my heart for the rest of my life. With that I shall be quite content."

~<>~<>~

Epilogue

Thomas Latimer tapped a finger on his thigh, echoing the tick of the mantel clock, which marked the passing minutes like a stately march. His brother-in-law shifted his weight from one foot to another; the set of his shoulders hinting at a growing impatience.

But the gentleman sitting opposite would not be rushed.

Only once he had read every word of the marriage settlement did Mr. Fielding return the document to the desk. "Everything appears to be in order."

At his words, Orton laid a freshly mended pen upon the desk, and moved the ink pot a little closer. "Are you certain you wish to proceed on this basis, sir? To double Miss Latimer's jointure seems unnecessarily generous, considering the pin money you have already specified within the settlement."

Fielding nodded. "If we are blessed with daughters I would wish them to be well provided for upon my demise, so yes, I am happy to proceed."

Orton turned then to him. "And are you also satisfied?"

"How can I not be? Mr. Fielding has been more than liberal."

"Then I would ask you both to sign the document." With an efficiency born of ingrained habit, Orton witnessed the signatures with his own florid script, blotted the damp ink and tidied the papers away into his bag. "It was a great pleasure doing business with you, sirs."

Once Orton had left, Mr. Latimer met the eyes of the man who would soon be his son-in-law, yet despite all his efforts at the previous evening's ball there was no warmth in Mr. Fielding's gaze. Still, it was beholden upon him to at least attempt a reconciliation. "Do you intend to purchase a special licence?"

"I do not see the need for a special licence when an ordinary one will suit our purpose, particularly as we are both resident in the parish."

"Have you and Anabelle fixed upon a date?"

"That is something I hope to discuss with your daughter today, if you have no objection."

"None at all." Mr. Latimer drummed his fingers upon the arm of his chair as the uncomfortable silence stretched between them. "I imagine you intend to take Anabelle to Yorkshire at the earliest opportunity."

Fielding shrugged. "Not immediately. As we are so close to town we will probably spend a week or two there before visiting my aunt and uncle. I expect we will be at Meltham for Christmas."

A month ago Thomas Latimer would never have suspected that Anabelle's future life might unfold at such a distance from Woodside. His thoughts turned melancholic as he imagined how his existence would alter without his eldest daughter around to brighten his day. "As happy as I am to see my daughter comfortably settled, I cannot deny I will miss Belle when she is gone."

The silence hung in the air between them, like dust motes in a ray of sunlight. Yet the hoped-for invitation to visit her future home did not materialise.

Instead Mr. Fielding rose, his natural confidence no longer clouded by a fog of uncertainty. "I will not encourage Miss Latimer towards a speedy wedding. The date will be hers to choose. She will, I am sure, require time to purchase some new items of clothing, and say her farewells to her friends and neighbours before we leave."

The two men left the small library and passed down the hallway to the parlour. He had always considered the room to be a comfortable size, but that was before Sir Henry and his cousin had decided to accompany Mr. Fielding to Woodside. The additional gentleman made the space seem rather cramped.

As a maid cleared the table in a clatter of china and silver spoons, the energetic sound of small boots echoing down the corridor proclaimed the passing of the boys, who had been released from the nursery to spend some time in the fresh air.

Mrs Latimer glanced through the window. "Anabelle, I wonder whether Mr. Fielding and our guests would like to take a turn about the garden."

The day was cool but dry, and his wife's scheme was eagerly agreed to. Once they had wrapped themselves against the chill his daughters escorted the three gentlemen outside.

Following them, Thomas Latimer paused by a frost-crusted garden wall; the crisp, clean autumn air sending his breath billowing like pipe smoke. He shuffled his feet, moving his weight squarely upon the handle of his cane.

After a few minutes of sombre reflection a familiar voice sounded behind him. "After staying out 'til all hours last night I thought you'd be restin' that leg, not gallivanting around the garden. Let me help you back into the house."

"I am not entirely helpless, John. Besides, there will be time enough to rest when Belle leaves. I must enjoy her happiness while I can."

The old retainer moved to his master's side. "Then lean on me, sir, and we'll enjoy it together."

Anabelle and Mr. Fielding were enjoying a sedentary stroll in the shrubbery, their heads close as they conversed with as much privacy as could be afforded to them. She wore a simple yellow gown, without those frills and fripperies sometimes seen on other women, and Mr. Latimer conceded she had never looked lovelier.

Selina and Sir Henry were providing inattentive chaperonage from the garden seat, while Mr. Langdale entertained Diana and Marianne as he threw a cricket ball for Ned and Jack to field. Between them they created a picturesque tableaux of domestic felicity the like of which he had not seen at Woodside in many years.

"It will be strange not having Belle around."

John shrugged. "Yorkshire's not so far away. You can still visit."

His affection for Anabelle was strong enough to forgo his usual indolence, and he had almost gone so far as to consider travelling to her new home. "I would not object to seeing Meltham's library, and it would please me to ensure that my Belle is happy rattling around in that big house. Sadly, Mr. Fielding has not entirely forgiven me for meddling in his affairs. You know, I think his biggest character defect is his implacable resentment."

John fished a flask from his pocket, unscrewed the top and offered it to his master. "Don't worry about that, sir. Your daughter'll soon bring him 'round. She's a great one for managing folks, is Miss Anabelle."

Mr. Latimer hoped his daughter would be up to the task. He cast his eye once more around the garden, wondering where his eldest and her betrothed had disappeared to. He was about to send John across to look for them when Anabelle and Mr. Fielding re-appeared from behind the dark green mass of an old viburnum.

His daughter's cheeks bore a rosy hue while Mr. Fielding gazed at Anabelle with his heart in his eyes. The well-matched pair were oblivious to everything except each other as he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her, with all the certainty and assurance of a man who held everything he could ever desire.

Mr. Latimer, finding himself unusually affected by the touching scene, blinked and consoled himself with the knowledge that Anabelle would gain the same conjugal felicity and domestic comfort he had enjoyed many years ago with her own dear mother.

"They make a very handsome couple, sir."

"Indeed they do, John." Although next time he would leave the match-making in his wife's capable hands. He had found the whole project rather exhausting, and now his leg was on the mend he had better things to do with his time.

A movement in a patch of long grass caught Mr. Latimer's attention. He waited, his eyes focussed on the spot, and soon he saw a twitching nose sniffing the air, and quick, mobile ears listening intently for danger.

Blast those rabbits. He'd give them danger. "John, would you fetch my shot gun?"

The old servant frowned, and cast a worried glance towards the shrubbery. "Why would you be needin' a gun? Mr. Fielding looks fair besotted to me. No coercion necessary."

"Not for Mr. Fielding, for those damned rabbits! I have a score to settle."

John laughed out loud, startling the animal, and they both watched the streak of grey-brown fur lope off into the brambles and out of sight. "Never mind, sir. Things didn't turn out too bad, under the circumstances."

"No, John. You are quite correct. All in all, we find ourselves with a happier resolution than I could have hoped for." Mr. Latimer sighed as he turned to make his way back to the house.

"But I cannot deny that I would have enjoyed a bit of rabbit pie for supper."

~<>~ The End ~<>~

To everyone who has been reading, voting and commenting - Thank you! Your support as I've been editing this story has been truly amazing, and I hope to be able to entertain you with another story sometime in the future. :)

If you would like to share your thoughts or opinions on TSOB, I'd love to hear them!

Heather xxx