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Chapter Text

1933, Darrowby, Yorkshire.

Siegfried Farnon lay still in half sleep, eyes shut against reality. In the precious twilight between sleep and waking, he could believe it had only been a nightmare. She was not dead at thirty-two, not buried deep in the cold ground across the square. No. She slept beside him, just over there, warm and alive, a heartbeat away. He could still touch her, wake her with a morning kiss, make love and be blessed once more by her womanly presence and eager desire as he proved his love.

It was real, normal and absolutely true ... as long as he didn't reach out his hand or open his eyes.

For four days, Siegfried hadn’t reached out for Evelyn. After seeing her body decently committed to hallowed ground and enduring a crowd of well wishers, people he'd wished would go away, he'd collapsed, worn thin by months of worry and ever-building fear as his true love, his vivacious wife of fifteen years, grew weaker. Through those terrible months, he'd done the only things the doctor could recommend - keeping her spirits up, keeping his chin up and carrying on and on and on, acting hopeful and cheerful even as he lost her by degrees, until it was over.

Now, physically and emotionally exhausted, Siegfried Farnon escaped into endless sleep and, in that sleep, he held fast to delusions as his days and nights drifted by uncounted, simply to maintain the illusion of Evelyn alive, healthy and still his to love.

Late on the fourth day, distant, persistent clanging of the front doorbell dragged him back to reality. Still wearing his rumpled waistcoat and trousers of mourning black, but in stockinged feet, he stumbled downstairs and flung open the door to snarl at the miscreant ringing his bell.

A curse died on his lips as Mrs Pumphrey stood there on his stoop, tearful and holding a tiny puppy, barely visible amidst the sumptuous folds of tan cashmere, stained with vomit.

"Mr Pandhi is out somewhere," she stated, clearly distraught but aware that she was intruding. "I do apologize for ringing. There is something very wrong with my little dog, do you see?"

Siegfried felt her eyes raking him, not missing a single detail. Not his red-eyed stare, swollen and bleak, his unwashed funk, matted hair, nor his rumpled widower's suit. Certainly not his trembling reply.

"Come in," he managed. "Please. I will examine your little dog, madam. When we know the problem, I'll treat him. What is his name?"

"Thank you. Please say hello to Tricki-Woo, Mr Farnon."

Siegfried managed to mumble, "How d'you do?" to the puppy, earning his client's instant loyalty. George Pandhi had never seen fit to speak a polite greeting to the Pumphrey animals.

The pekingese had arrived dehydrated and vomiting into his owner's fine cashmere shawl. It bore a Paris label and yet the good woman had not hesitated to bundle the little peke into its exquisite depths.That alone earned Siegfried’s instant respect for the refined lady who, until this visit, had given all her custom to George Pandhi. Siegfried had offered Mrs Pumphrey a seat and took charge of the bundle of puppy and cashmere. It was simple to diagnose the issue. Chocolate bits indicated Tricki-Woo had been given a treat meant only for human palates. A stomach flush and saline drip put the puppy on the path to recovery.

That call to duty had been a painful turning point.

Mrs Pumphrey had not been content to sit in the waiting area. Having seen the state of the handsome young widower, a fine man reputed to be utterly devoted to his poor wife, she'd sought out the kitchen, the kettle and the tea things and set to work.

When he emerged to find Mrs Pumphrey missing, Siegfried had discovered her in the dining room with a teapot and an invitation to join her for tea, to provide his professional prognosis and have a chat.

Over a cup of tea, expertly brewed and served by his guest, Siegfried explained that Tricki-Woo must stay overnight. Chocolate is poisonous to dogs, he stated firmly, and young puppies could easily die from even the smallest nibble. He managed the matter with great tact by assuming, of course, that the puppy had helped himself to the chocolate. This, despite the fact that Tricki-Woo was far too small to reach a dish of chocolates unless it was placed on the floor.

Siegfried also learned something of what his four day collapse and earlier months of professional absence had cost. The day before, the Hulton Estate had lost a fine brood mare and her twin foals. A few days before, a milk cow at the Barnaby place had died from a ruptured artery caused by a wire. Another cow died immediately after giving birth from milk fever, a condition easily cured by a calcium drip, if a veterinarian had been available to attend. Throughout the season, sheep had been lost needlessly to the myriad ills that the species was prone to, from brain bots and stomach worms to poisonings, accidents and dog attacks, and now this puppy might have died because Pandhi was elsewhere.

It struck Siegfried that his personal loss was affecting innocents throughout his cherished world. Irritating and smugly superior, Pandhi commanded most of the veterinary business, but he was still only one man. Without Siegfried to collect the scraps off George Pandhi's professional plate, things were going badly for innocent animals and for people who simply could not bear such losses.

Over that sobering cuppa, Siegfried slipped unknowingly into the second stage of grief - pain and guilt. In the coming weeks, the pain was eased by liberal applications of whisky. The guilt would only ease by endless work - Henceforth, he must attend!

Chapter Text

Tristan slammed the icebox door and shouted, "There's nothing here to EAT!"

Siegfried stopped, mid-stride and barked, "I cannot shop, cook, and run a veterinary practice. There's only one of me you realize!" He glared at his brother, the snarky teenaged albatross hung inescapably around his neck since their father's death.

Tris had been particularly beastly since Evelyn had died. On one level, Siegfried understood the need to lash out at the world. Tristan had, after all, lost every person he had ever loved - his mother, then father, now Evelyn. On another level, Siegfried felt deeply guilty.
Guilty that his brother lacked a functional home. Tris was far happier at boarding school and better fed!
Guilty that he couldn't keep a housekeeper. One woman after the next had quit in disgust at his manners, his muck, his odd hours and, yes, he suspected, his drinking.
Guilty that, night after night, he crept away and drank instead of supervising Tristan, scrubbing their dirty dishes, sweeping the floors or washing their clothes.
Guilty that, unless they had no option, no sane person spent more time than absolutely necessary with him, miserable bastard that he was.
Guilty that he was still alive, and doing a bloody bad job of it, while she was not.

If he had died, Siegfried felt certain, Evelyn would have managed. She possessed a grace of spirit that rose to meet challenges with calm practicality. No chance of Evelyn hiding away with a whisky bottle and useless self indulgent tears every night (and more than a few straight through till morning). No. She'd have kept things at Skeldale House ticking along, just as she always had and perhaps her life and Tristan’s would have improved by his death.

How Siegfried wished it had been that way. Death sounded like freedom from pain and unwanted, crushing responsibility. It would have been better for all involved.

Tris would have found any manner of delicious things waiting to fill his belly, if Siegfried had died in Evelyn's stead. Evelyn might have accepted one of the 'Help Wanted' jobs in a shoppe to stretch out his veteran's pension. She could have one day found a better man, a man capable of giving her children.

Dammit, he should have been able to give her children.

Siegfried jerked a five shilling bit out of his pocket and flung it onto the table. "Eat at The Drovers," he snarled. "Tell the barkeep it is alright. You can run a tab." Then he slammed out of the kitchen, running away before Tristan saw his unmanly tears.

The day's list was long. Since losing Evelyn, Siegfried’s only sense of relief was out among the animals. He suspected Mrs Pumphrey of putting out a good word about him for 'saving' Tricki-Woo. He felt a surge of unearned pride to be suddenly effectively competing with Pandhi. Since they'd returned from the Great War, George had demobbed first and had swiftly claimed the best clientele. The scoundrel kept every major stable and largest farms firmly locked up, leaving Siegfried only the many miserly small holding farms to eke out a living.

Siegfried loved the high country and enjoyed the vistas and the wild freshness of his days among those raggedy-assed folk, but he also relished the taste of a fine bottle of whisky, the flavor of a really first rate pipe tobacco and he had yearned for the financial freedom to suggest Evelyn splurge on a new hat or dress, or both, at Easter and Christmas.

It grieved Siegfried that a bit of financial success had come too late. Money was suddenly rolling in, but he had no one to spend it on, no one to spoil. The thought that, in all her years at his side, Evelyn had never enjoyed the ease of having more than they needed, well ... it weighed on him worse than his many other failings, except that he had never managed to father a child.

If only he'd given her his child.

Completing his rounds took all day and Siegfried returned long past nightfall, richer by fifty quid, but dead tired and dreading Tristan’s jibes. It took him a long pause to gather the strength to face the house, her house, now a wreck of chaos and disharmony. Taking a long breath, Siegfried heaved himself out of the Rover and slumped across the yard and in through the back door. He paused. Something was different.

The aroma of roast chicken and the scent of cleanser hung in the air.

He peered about, realizing the dishes were washed and put away. The table had been cleared of his various miscellany. His newspapers, syringes and bills from the post were gone, leaving only a set of salt and pepper shakers and a butter dish.

"Tristan?" he called out, thinking to thank the lad.

Siegfried took a step closer, mystified by the transformation, when a total stranger, a woman he'd never before seen, stepped into the shadowy kitchen and stated, "Boots off me clean floor if you please, Mr Farnon."

Chapter Text

"Your brother hired me," the strange woman stated firmly, as if it was not open to negotiation.

"Did he!" Siegfried replied, torn between amusement, relief and a touch of pique."Where is our Master of the House?" he asked, but she overlooked his sarcastic tone and simply replied, "On his bus back to school."

'Damnation,' Siegfried scolded himself, upset and more than a little rattled by this strange beauty who'd simply appeared.

"I forgot that Tris was off, back to school today," he said aloud. "I shall miss him." That was a lie and the look on her face warned Siegfried she might have his number. "I run a very busy veterinary practice. The animals always come first," he babbled, "Miss ... erm ... Miss?"

"Mrs Hall," she said, verbally underlining her married status and shooting a second quick glance at her floor before repeating, "Boots off. I'll help with that wet coat, hang it over t'oven to dry. Now, upstairs with you for a wash, while I set out your supper, if you please."

Thrown thoroughly off balance by her deft blend of deference and entirely unprecedented ordering about, Siegfried obeyed. A smile ghosted his lips as he paused, halfway up the stairs, to raise his eyes and muse with little hope of actually being heard on high, 'Lord, if you exist, inspire this one to forgive my many flaws and stay.'

Ten minutes later, after marveling at a sparkling sink, drying his face with a fresh towel and discovering his sty of a bedroom had been tidied to military standards of perfection, Siegfried returned to a simple meal. It was merely a roast chicken, biscuits and gravy, carrots and creamed spinach.

Ravenous, he nearly gasped in honest delight at the sight, but that would be telling. Instead, he claimed his chair without a single word and set about demolishing the feast, right down to gnawing the last bit of flavor out of that chicken's tibia and mopping up the gravy with his last bite of biscuit.

Mrs Hall had stood nearby, pretending to wash up the spotless stove and counters, sneaking glances at the handsome stranger, and feeling both lucky and guilty. She'd been hired under false colors. Her 'interview' were by a tipsy juvenile and her first week's wages were paid in a five shilling coin and a loan of another fiver from the barkeep, a loan that must have gone straight onto this gentleman's bar tab.

It had happened by chance ... or Fate ... or Providence.

Having arrived at the last stop of the bus before it turned back the way she vowed never again to go, Audrey Hall had disembarked, carrying all her earthy possessions in one slim suitcase and her purse. She walked through the village and she checked the various shoppes for 'Help Wanted' signs. She'd enquired at the millinery and the green grocery, even the hardware store and bookseller.

Each establishment, for one reason or another, had turned her down. The green grocery wife hadn't liked her looks, too pretty. The millinery had thought her clothing too dowdy. The hardware had stated he weren’t hiring a woman to do a man's job and the bookseller weren't hiring and gamely tried to sell her a 'Fully Annotated Greek Tragedy Anthology'. It were heavier than her suitcase.

So, Mrs Hall had finally approached the pub. The Drovers Arms, the sign said. She'd stepped inside and settled in a corner, ordered a sweet cider with the last of her funds and watched a thin young man with a pretty shock of strawberry curls, nearly a child, standing at the bar drinking an ale and complaining mightily to the nodding barkeep who polished the bar.

She'd thought, 'The lad don't ken what real trouble is, lucky beggar,' but relented almost as the thought formed, hoping he never would know. God knew there were already too much pain in the world.

"None of them stay!" She heard him whine with a dramatic wave of his tankard. "If it's not his cursing, it's the drinking! He trails muck on their clean floors, drives them batty with his late nights, late suppers and midnight telephone call-outs. His suit comes back torn or soaked in god-knows-what, or both! His boots are worse! I can barely stand the madman these days, and we're family!"

Screwing up her courage, Mrs Hall had approached the barkeep, carrying her empty cider glass. When the lad paused his rant to drain his pint, she meekly asked, "Are you by any chance in need of a cook or char woman?"

The barkeep had shook his head, but the slender lad standing at her left side had perked up, burped, blushed prettily, offered his hand politely and said, "I am Tristan Farnon. Are you new to Darrowby?"

Audrey had smiled and said as they shook, "Mrs Hall. Pleased to meet you, Mr Farnon," causing the lad to laugh in delight, before he declared, "Don't work here, Mrs H. Come work for my brother. He's mad as a hatter, but harmless and in desperate need of a good woman like yourself to set things right!"

With no funds and no other option, Audrey had agreed. So, now she found herself watching Mr Farnon Senior eat supper like he hadn’t seen a meal in months. While she watched, she fretted over when he'd think to ask to see her letter of recommendation.

As the man wiped his plate clean with the last biscuit, she sent a heartfelt plea to the Lord to be allowed to stay, promising to do right by this man in all ways, if only he didn't ask for her last employer's recommendation.

Siegfried leaned back with a satisfied groan of pleasure. He looked up at Mrs Hall and suggested, "Wouldn't you prefer to sit, Mrs Hall? It's clear you've put in a hard day's work."

Surprised, she nodded and silently slipped into a chair across the table.

Siegfried frowned, thinking how to proceed. He couldn’t jinx this opportunity, but neither could he lie. The lady was too sharp for shading the truth.

"This is not a normal household," he began. "I am recently bereaved, still struggling. My profession requires irregular hours. Being a veterinarian is not an office job. I return to eat and sleep when I can. I shall do my best to be considerate of your workday and try not to make your days any longer than necessary. What did Tristan offer?"

Audrey blushed and said, "Your brother gave me ten shillings to simply give today a go and then talk with you about the formal arrangements."

Siegfried replied, "I can offer full room and board, plus two pounds a week to start. After the first month, if we get on, I'll double it. I'm building my practice. As it grows I can pay more."

Audrey closed her eyes and murmured a quick prayer of gratitude for her miraculous deliverance, while Siegfried waited, afraid she had doubts.

"If you've heard I am a tyrant," he added, "let me promise to do my best to always be courteous and considerate to you, Mrs Hall. Please, dear lady. I am all at sea here on my own, as I'm sure you saw for yourself today."

Audrey nodded, too overwhelmed to trust her voice. She reached out a hand and Siegfried grinned and gripped her hand, murmuring, "Thank goodness!"

His smile of relief and the touch of his hand sent such a thrill through Audrey that she suddenly did have second thoughts, wondering, "What have I done?" But it were too late. She'd promised the Lord to do right by Siegfried Farnon, and she never broke a promise to God, not even a promise to do right by a dangerously handsome devil with those warm brown eyes.

Chapter Text

1937, Darrowby, Yorkshire.

"Where in bloody hell is the ... the bloody damned ... Mrs HALL!" Siegfried roared, jumping and spinning to her light touch on the back of his tense shoulder.

"You roared?" she asked sweetly with her elegant brows arched, accusingly. "I heard you rampaging through the house searching for summat and I came to see what you've lost this time."

Blowing past his misdemeanor, Siegfried huffed indignantly, "I distinctly recall our discussion. We agreed that you are not to touch anything in the dispensary."

She locked his fierce brown stare with her steady blue gaze, waiting to see what the mad beggar were going on about. "As do I," she confirmed and Mr Farnon’s challenging glare wavered and broke. He were beginning to question the wisdom of accusing her meticulous housekeeping as the source of whatever inconvenience he'd been raging over.

He looked away, almost as if seeking an escape.

Audrey had to suppress a chuckle. "Why not tell me? What'd you lose?" she sighed.

Siegfried turned back, all fury drained away, leaving him shamefaced. "There was an ... an invaluable envelope of free samples of a modern skin treatment for incipient ..."

"You mixed it in the pages of your morning paper," Audrey interrupted. "Since it were mail, I put it on your desk where we agreed your mail lives."

"Ah ..." he gave her that uncertain, wide-eyed look that guaranteed her charitable forgiveness. "Of course, " he continued. "Quite right. Will you ... erm ... will you ever forgive me?"

He were too charming to chastise and the mad beggar knew it.

"This time," she smiled and swatted his chest, fondly. He blushed, murmured, "I am truly sorry, my dear," before spinning on his heels and rushing off, whistling a jaunty tune.

Audrey watched the mad dervish go. He were changeable as a summer storm going from stormy to sunny in the blink of an eye. Then, shaking her head and muttering, "Daft creature," she got on with tidying away tufts of fur on the waiting room floor.

Over their early years together, Mr Farnon had been far more changeable, a lost soul in agony in those first stormy months. The grieving man were angry, afraid and so volatile that, now, his daft outbursts seemed mild and even amusing by comparison.

1934, Darrowby, Yorkshire.

It were late. Audrey shifted in her bed and listened to soft sobbing. It came through her wall. She fought back a rush of tears and sent up a heartfelt prayer for that man. Some nights it were terrors of their war that haunted his sleep. She would hear him shout out orders, curse or scream, fighting battles in his dreams. More often, it were grieving. He were sleepless, mourning his beloved Evelyn, again. His sobs were muffled, but his soft heart-breaking sounds went on and on. Summat happened nearly every night, unless he locked himself away in his dark office with a bottle to numb his pain and wait for dawn.

Audrey lay awake and listened, somehow feeling it were her duty not to leave him to suffer alone in his pain. He must never know, of course. He'd be mortified to think she heard, but she could not ignore any person in need, certainly not the good man who'd saved her. So, Audrey Hall lay awake, praying and offering her support, until Mr Farnon finally cried himself to sleep.

Her first weeks at Skeldale House confirmed Mr Farnon’s claim that it weren’t a normal household. Pets and neighbors trooped through for his care. The phone calls dinnt stop, day or night. She watched him run himself ragged, caring for livestock, pets and his younger brother, and she worried, knowing he were working to exhaustion in hopes of winning a dreamless night of rest.

Mr Farnon’s drinking had worried her, at first, and his angry outbursts alarmed her. Audrey were no coward. She'd faced death too often to count in the war and had endured years in a violent marriage until her son were threatened, as well. She dinnt care to dwell on those dark moments. She knew from experience, however, that others had known far more terrifying times. Her husband had been one and, it seemed clear, so had that dear beggar losing sleep in the next room.

Audrey had abandoned her marriage to a man who drank and shouted and, as his demons fully claimed him, injured those who loved and needed him. Seeing possible signs of that hurtful and dangerous pattern in Siegfried Farnon, Audrey had put away every penny of her pay, planning to bolt if his bad nights ever turned dangerous.

They hadn't.

In fact, by the second month at Skeldale House, she'd come to recognize that Mr Farnon were different. Despite his boom and bluster, he were a soft hearted soul suffering from a terrible loss and never truly healed from the terrors of their Great War. Some men had broke under that terror. Others returned hard and cruel. A few of the best came home apparently unchanged, wearing a determined mask of normalcy and doing all the things that mattered, but privately in pain and torn by demons that lurked in the dead of night. Audrey felt certain Siegfried Farnon were one of those, a tender heart in pain, just trying to find a way forward as best he could.

Mornings found Mr Farnon generally pleasant, if hungover or sleep deprived, and always courteous.

Audrey did all she could to give him a predictable, healthy start to his busy days. She always greeted him with a full plate and a cheery smile, doing what little she could to push his demons back into their box and lock the lid.

While it were the two of them, they'd rubbed along very pleasantly. Some days, when there were no emergencies, Mr Farnon might stroll with her to the shops, carrying her basket of groceries. Other times, he'd be gone all day, missing meals and arriving home very late, exhausted, filthy and half starved.

Those nights, Audrey waited up, either darning or mending, while listening to the radio. She felt it were essential to show her employer that he weren’t as alone as he must feel. Someone cared enough to be sure he were home and fed, no matter how late the hour.

It weren’t the two of them, however, not always. There were clients who dinnt pay. There were bills due and the never-ending fight to claim clients and work every hour the good Lord sent him. So, Mr Farnon raged against life's trials and cursed his unhappy existence. He kept his word, however, and never treated her with less than respect and courtesy.

Not so his brother. Weeks when Tristan returned home from school were tempestuous trials, full of sound and fury. The very rafters rang with the brothers' bickering, jibes and occassional outrageous shouting matches.

Those times were hardest. They reminded Audrey of her own son, Edward, a loved one so dear, but lost to her and of her unbearable marriage. At times, the running warfare between the Farnons made her want to knock heads together. Both men were lovely people, generous, caring and intelligent, even capable of being fun loving and downright silly. Together, however, they brought out the worst in each other.

Mr Farnon, normally courteous and caring, became a domineering taskmaster when dealing with his brother. Tristan dinnt help matters. The more Siegfried pushed, the more truculent the younger Farnon behaved, purposefully shiftless and carefree, blatantly shirking his studies at his elder brother's considerable expense.

Audrey sympathized with both sides. Mr Farnon worked hard, far too hard in fact, to earn money to educate Tristan. Tristan resented his brother's high expectations and had decided he could never hit the mark, so why try. Fun loving youngster that he was, Tris took advantage of his unsupervised months at school to enjoy the high life and face the inevitable music ... later.

And so, it went round and round between them, Siegfried resenting his brother's carefree life and Tristan feeling bullied by the brother who had promised to foot the bill for his education and was paying dearly for a wastrel's fun.

Then, one glittering evening of celebration, disaster struck and one moment of brutal honesty had changed everything.

Chapter Text

In those years while Tristan were funking off in Edinburgh, Audrey truly feared Mr Farnon would work himself into an early grave. While she managed Skeldale House and he ran his demanding practice, Audrey had dropped increasingly emphatic hints about the value of hiring an assistant.

The money were there.

Mr Pandhi had assistants to pad his income.

"So why not, Mr Farnon?"

It mystified her that the stubbon beggar resisted such a sensible suggestion. Mr Farnon griped and complained enough about his heavy workload, how it never stopped, dawn to dawn, endless graft.

It were the simple truth.

Most days, he came home late, left early and three nights out of seven dragged himself out of bed for an emergency call. That summer the calls didn't slow to give the man a break. He went straight from lambing season into larger livestock births and on to service the vast Yorkshire piggeries that had become the newest thing in agriculture.

No matter how Audrey piled food onto his plate, Mr Farnon kept losing weight. He tightened his belt to the last notch. Then she tailored his trousers. Yet, the man refused to slow down or consider her suggestion. That is, until one evening.

Out of the blue he suddenly agreed, although she hadn't mentioned it for two days. He'd been perusing his veterinary journals and closed one with a slap, stood and strode off to return a moment later armed with a pencil.

"Pick three," he stated peevishly, thrusting the pencil and magazine at Audrey. "'Position Wanted' begins on page 15. If I do give three ignoramuses of your choosing a try, that's the end of it. I'll hear no more! Agreed?"

"A fair try, " Audrey replied, suspicious of his plan.

With a nod, Siegfried poured himself a second whisky and delivered his Mrs Hall a sherry, which she sipped while deeply pondering the columns of advertisements.

After an hour and a second sherry, Audrey had marked three names. She presented the journal and said simply, "I'll type interview invitations in the morning and you can post them for me. Goodnight."

A touch tipsy from the second sherry,, Audrey lay in her bed and pondered the sudden change. Before, Mr Farnon had almost seemed to view her suggestion as a reflection on his age or robust constitution. It became a point of pride with him to bicker over the idea.

Whenever Audrey pressed the idea, Mr Farnon had huffed and deflected. It had been enough to make her wonder if he had still been holding out hope for Tris to finally qualify and go into harness beside him. But now had he finally lost all hope? The thought were a poignant one. A near father abandoning a near hopeless dream.

After Tristan had spent the whole summer in misery, being tutored by his impatient older brother, Siegfried had caught that addelpated lad sketching movie stars rather than cramming for his upcoming exams. Maybe Siegfried had truly lost all hope and chucked it in. He'd said as much to Tristan, telling his little brother go ahead, it were his life to live as he wished.

It seemed the dream were dead. In her tipsy condition, that sad thought made Audrey hug her pillow and cry a little.

Siegfried watched Mrs Hall tottle off to bed and he glanced down the page to consider the names. She'd selected one recent graduate with a passion for new ideas, including industrial design piggeries. Another lad was a generalist who'd been born in Wensleydale. The last was a more experienced man hoping to move into a rural practice with an eye toward a partnership.

Below that advertisement, a fourth candidate caught Siegfried’s eye. He'd graduated from Edinburgh Veterinary College eight months ago and had passed his exams with flying colors, taking a First in Parasitology.

Siegfried took up the pencil and circled that name, carefully erasing out the gent who hoped for a rural partnership. Tristan had flunked Parasitology, repeatedly. Bringing on a bright lad who'd passed with distinction might light a fire of ambition under the ne're-do-well. After investing a small fortune and endless worry and aggravation in his brother, Siegfried Farnon wasn't beat yet.

Good to her word, Audrey rose early and typed out interview invitations. She had the letters and envelopes completed before it were time to begin cooking breakfast. All Mr Farnon need do were sign his indecipherable name and seal the letters inside.

Siegfried took a stroll after lunch to drop the invitations in the nearby postbox. It was an excellent plan, he felt certain. The piggery expert and the lad from Wensleydale would interview and fail, but James Herriot from Edinburgh would get the job. He'd keep it long enough to turn Tristan green with envy as a newcomer seemed likely to steal away his long despised spot in the Farnon Brothers' Veterinary Practice!

Tristan was competitive, for all his shiftless habits, he always wanted to win. It seemed likely he couldn't believe he might win against his vastly experienced brother. So, a slightly less daunting competitor was in order.

Yes, it was deceitful and extreme, grossly unfair to poor Herriot, but Siegfried had little doubt it would work.

The simple fact was that he loved Tristan and he was lonely. Since losing Evelyn, he'd felt it ever more keenly. The passing of years, the importance of family. He yearned to spend days with his loved ones. Tris was the closest he would ever come to being a father. So, he found his days alone on his rounds increasingly lonely and bloody hard graft. His practice had blossomed and he knew that he needed help. He needed Tris to finally get his blasted thumb out, grow up and claim his heritage.

From the first, Siegfried had pictured nights before a crackling fire, sharing a drink at the close of a long profitable day, and discussing Veterinary Science and the Practice with his little brother. Tristan was intelligent, sensitive and creative. Siegfried had no doubt he would excel as a veterinarian, if only he applied himself.

So, he'd plot and finagle, if necessary, do anything to finally force Tris to measure up to his potential. Then, one fine evening, they'd sit together and talk and enjoy a glass of the good stuff, at long last, with Tristan as his equal partner.

Siegfried dropped the letters into the box with a sense of optimism and whistled his way to the tobacconist's, thinking how cleverly he'd arranged his brother's rosy future.

Chapter Text

Siegfried Farnon sat in his dark office, sipping a couple of fingers of the good stuff. Vonolel rustled in the dark, equally at home in darkness or light. It made him smile to hear his little friend busily being a Rattus norvegicus domestica. Vonolel made Siegfried’s problem no less painful, but at least he felt less alone, though still so terribly lonely.

It had been a gradual shift from isolation to dependence, to the realization that he could love no other and could never tell his housekeeper his heart. Forever deeply in love with Evelyn and still missing her touch and her laughter, the scent of her, the loveliness of sunlight on her golden hair, it never entered Siegfried’s mind that he might ever fall in love, not again.

No man could be that lucky. Certainly not in that giddy, head-spinning whirl of irrepressible desire that had led to his impulsive proposal and joyous marriage to Evelyn.

But ... something very like that emotion had suddenly rocked his world a year and a day ago, on Christmas Eve, leaving Siegfried a tongue-tied idiot, babbling nonsense at his dearest friend, until she blushed and fled in confusion. Tragically, his utter failure to communicate like an experienced, educated gentleman to the woman he loved had sent Audrey Hall back upstairs to change into a prim dress she usually saved for church.

Maybe it had been that sparkling jet beaded dress or maybe the unprecedented vision of waves of shiny dark curls falling across her shoulders. Their sable sheen had framed her pale neck, so elegantly. His housekeeper's graceful neck was a feature Siegfried had secretly admired from their first meeting. Maybe ... just maybe it had been all of her and maybe it had been her all along, perhaps from the first. Her grace, her kindness, her humor and scolding, her wise counsel and her silly superstitions, her friendship and the easy sensual way her innocent hips swayed pulling tight the back of her modest pencil skirts. Yes, it must have had been building for years, and he'd been too bloody backward to admit it and take steps.

Maybe he was a bloody damned old fool and she was so much more than his housekeeper. Maybe it was long past time Siegfried admitted that he saw his Mrs Hall as his Audrey, a beautiful, desirable woman, the only woman he could hope to ever truly love, again.

And maybe he had finally come to see that he had been lonely, desperate for far more than a friend. There'd been other women, of course, as he tried to find someone kind to help him ease his deep ache for human closeness, for a tender touch and pleasure gladly received and freely given. From Dorothy's terrifying kiss to his parting of ways with Diana Brompton, Siegfried knew tonight it had all been insincere. Too afraid of true love, and the loss it might bring, he'd fooled himself and had probably hurt women who'd hoped to be more than friends, certainly more than mere stand-ins for ... her.

All those lovely dark sparkles from that Christmas Eve moment stayed hidden away, but the spark they'd lit burned in Siegfried’s heart and it grew to something he could not extinguish. Nor did he wish to, not even knowing she would one day go.

Siegfried had realized too late.

That night when Audrey wore that dress of shimmering jet beads that set his heart racing Siegfried should have confessed his love. Instead, he'd taken time to ponder and fret. Last night, his folly was clear. He'd seen his future alone.

Tristan had discovered his interference with his military enlistment and was hell bent on going to war. Finally forced to act or be left on his own in an empty house and an empty existence, Siegfried had timidly reached for her hand, about to reveal his heart. The words were on his lips, but Audrey had fled. Then he'd witnessed a sight he'd have given everything to unsee - Audrey Hall in the arms of another, kissing with abandon.

Siegfried had known they were friends. Well, friendly. He was keenly aware that they'd gone out together, as friends, but he refused to think of it as 'dating', certainly not courting. After all, it was just an evening now and then watching films and daily walks, every day.

'That's how it starts!!' his heart screamed. His gut agreed. His head hurt.

Mrs Hall had even insisted it weren’t a date when she'd accepted an invitation to a local musical performance. She'd arrived home far too early to Siegfried’s immense satisfaction. So, Siegfried had told himself to set aside the worry. He had endured the incipient envy. He had no claim on her, would not admit his love for fear of losing her entirely.

Then, last night, in the midst of a low key Christmas Eve gathering - that wasn't a party - Siegfried witnessed Audrey kissing that man. In that soul killing moment, Siegfried knew. He was damned to be alone, forever. One day she would leave him. If not with bloody damned Gerald Hammond, the most boring man in Yorkshire, then with any one of a number of likely candidates. Audrey Hall was a beauty and she was kind and wise. She had finally freed herself from a disastrous marriage and she was stepping out.

Audrey was free to go. She would surely go with anyone but him, the lovelorn fool so afraid to lose her that he had never dared win her. Someday soon, Audrey Hall would find happiness with another, something he could never do because she was his last great love ... and he'd left it too bloody late.

Chapter Text

Another Christmas Eve.

Siegfried paced the glittering house, alone.

Tris had gone. James, too.

Then, at last, a thin wail drifted down from the upstairs.

Siegfried ran to the stairway. His hand gripped the balustrade and his foot hovered on the first stair tread, uncertain whether he'd be welcomed. A heartier wail floated down, a precious sound so full of life and the promise of future days that his joyous tears of relief welled up. Helen had given them a baby! A new person born under his roof at last. He was crying without shame before Audrey appeared at the landing to call down, "Everyone's fine, Siegfried! It's a boy!"

He took a step or maybe several, meeting Audrey halfway up the stairs to take hold of her damp hands. They were both tearful and laughing as he choked out, "This is your doing, Audrey, yours and Tristan’s."

"I think James and Helen deserve all the credit!" she teased.

"If you hadn't kept after me," Siegfried insisted, "I'd have never hired James and that little boy would not exist."

He lowered his gaze and kissed her palm. It smelled of disinfectant.

She cradled his cheek and then pulled him close against her, pressing his cheek tight against her warm body. He slipped his arms around her hips, at last holding her close.

"Do you want to come up and meet him?" she asked, leaning down to peck a kiss on the top of his head just as Siegfried looked up to agree. Her lips grazed his and she didn't pull away. She deepened her kiss, pregnant with promise and desire.

Siegfried thanked God for this unspoken vow. He felt certain now that Audrey would truly stay, certain at last.

They'd been building toward this moment ever since his ladies had arrived in a flurry at Heston Grange. Helen had been in near panic. She hadn’t felt the baby move and was suddenly terrified that she might lose it.

At first Siegfried had been uncertain why they'd not gone to the doctor or midwife, but then he knew.

They had come to him because they were under his care.

Still, Siegfried hesitated. Was it proper for him, a veterinarian and neither Helen’s husband nor even her relative to examine her?

He looked from Helen to Richard, from Jenny to Audrey and he knew. The consensus was yes, and he must do it right now, as Helen was pale, on the verge of full blown panic.

Touching her as little as possible, after Helen opened her clothing, Siegfried placed his stethoscope on her swollen belly. He'd done it hundreds of times on livestock, but this was Helen, James’s wife and baby, Richard's daughter and grandchild, a young woman trusting him to manage and tell her that all would be well.

"Don't worry," he murmured under his breath. "I'm here."

A long moment stretched until the tension in the barn grew almost unbearable. He couldn’t find a heartbeat. He needed to move lower, into areas no stranger should touch, but Helen breathed, "Please, Siegfried."

He shifted the stethoscope lower and strained to hear. The barn was absolutely silent except ... 'There!'

"Mr Carmody," Siegfried murmured. "Place the earpieces on Mrs Herriot's ears."

Helen's sudden gasp of relief and joy was one of Siegfried Farnon’s proudest moments in his long life.

And now that little one was upstairs in his mother's arms.

Audrey kissed him twice more before she straightened and said, "Come along. He's a beautiful baby!"

It was some time later, Audrey and Siegfried were enjoying a quiet celebratory drink in front of the shining Christmas tree. James had suddenly burst in and was now spending private time with his new family. So, it was just Audrey and Siegfried before the fire.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, letting him hold her hand.

Siegfried leaned in closer to nuzzle Audrey’s hair, but she pulled slightly away in order to turn and look at him. She was frowning, puzzled.

"What on earth," she asked, "does your brother possibly have to do with Helen's having a baby?"

Chapter Text

"Siegfried Donald Farnon!!!" Audrey hissed from her place across the room.

The Christmas lights colored her angry face in hues of red, gold and green. It was charming and distracting, but Siegfried controlled his wandering attention. He was in trouble. Time to explain that he was right, after all!

"Audrey," he purred, "my dear, I know it was a shocking gamble, but I've been proven right! The arrival of that little boy upstairs proves it. The fact is, I was an instrument in the hand of ..."

"Do not invoke His name!" Audrey interrupted sharply, "Don't you bloody well dare!"

Siegfried tried to look abashed, but it was a remarkable boost to his libido to be chastised by Audrey Hall. Her fire and fury, standing in the sitting room, presaged fire elsewhere. Places he could not help but imagine with growing distraction.

"I was about to say 'Fate'," he lied. "Consider this, my dear. Tristan was having a high old time on my hard won shillings. He'd spent five years in veterinary school. Five! As soon as James joined us, he got his thumb out and studied. Furthermore, I didn't let James go as originally planned. He'd proved himself."

Audrey uncrossed her arms and fought a smile.

Taking it as a sign, Siegfried joined her at the fireside. "Tristan qualified, in due course. James made partner, well deserved. And I have just told you an unvarnished truth. I'd say I deserve not a scolding, but a kiss."

Laughing, Audrey swatted his chest and stepped close to grant his request. Then, together, they returned to the sofa, reconciled and very much in love.

The End.

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