We’d gone over this every day since arriving. “Yes.”
Mama’s eyes shifted out the window. “We might have to reconsider our options.”
“As of now, I’m trying to find options. And I will.”
“Mr. Green has a home with fourteen rooms.”
“Yes ...” I said warily.
“And he owns most of the shops in town. We could have nice things again.”
These were all the reasons I’d almost considered marrying him just before we’d left. I rose from the table, not wanting to talk about Mr. Green. If she liked his house and his influence so much, she should have tried to marry him. I sighed. For all I knew, she had, but Mr. Green wasnotthe type of man who was interested in marrying a woman near his age. “I’m going to go for a walk.”
Mama didn’t answer.
I strode out of the room and threw on my heaviest coat—a dark-green woolen one Mama had accepted from Mr. Green on my behalf. Even here, his influence permeated the air around me. When would I ever be free of it? But it was better to be in Mr. Green’s coat than in his bed, and as soon as I had my inheritance, the coat would be the first thing to go.
Once outside the cottage, I stopped, uncertain of which direction I wanted to walk. I could try visiting with the Mortensens again, but if I followed the left path, would David find me again? He’d often found me on that path when I’d delivered baskets to Lord Murphy’s tenants. He’d never come into the ramshackle hovels while I’d visited with the families within, but he’d always been waiting behind a tree or down the lane. He’d been quiet, never speaking above a whisper,and always preferring to be out of sight of anyone else who might have been walking that day.
I turned right. I wasn’t certain I could handle one more reminder of how far I’d fallen from the optimistic young woman I’d been when I’d first come to Breckenridge.
Besides, if I knocked at the Prestons’ door, perhaps Mr. Preston would lend me his most recent papers from London, and I could spend the afternoon looking for work.
I found Mr. Preston in his study, where he was busy but more than happy to give me his old papers. He handed me a stack of them. “Did you hear we are to have two more guests at dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Mr. Tate and ...”
“His older sister, Miss Julia Tate. We see Mr. Tate often enough nowadays. He helped put new thatch on the cottage a few years back, and since then, we’ve become good friends. But I’ve rarely had the chance to speak to his sister. She’s a bit skittish.”
“Oh,” I said. This was the first I’d heard anything about David’s family other than the fact that he was somehow related to Lord Murphy. Had David become a thatcher? If he was a master at the craft, that could perhaps explain his improved clothing.
Mr. Preston eyed me shrewdly. “You don’t know why the sudden interest in dining with us, do you?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose your guess would be as good as mine. I’ve never even met Miss Tate.”
Mr. Preston didn’t look convinced, and I wished I knew exactly what David had said when asking for his invitation.
After arriving home, I spent more than an hour penning several letters and responding to governess advertisements. By the time I returned with Mama to the Prestons’ home for dinner, my stomach was nigh unto growling.
We arrived after David and his sister and just in time to be ushered into the dining room directly after introductions. David’s older sister was beautiful in a reserved sort of way, and she looked to be about my age. Mr. Preston’s description of her being skittish fit her well. Her dark hair was similar to David’s, but her eyes were a cloudy gray, and they darted about the room instead of focusing on the people in it. David used to have that same look of wariness about him.
My eyes went from David to his sister, comparing them once again. What had happened to change him so drastically?
“How are you enjoying your visit, Miss Atwood?” David asked from across the table.
“It’s lovely to be back again,” I lied. Other than our conversation the day before yesterday, the past three days had been excruciating.
Mama looked up in surprise at my cheerful answer. “I am certain we are sorely missed in Silverfork.”
“Silverfork?” David asked, setting his spoon into his soup. “That is in Derbyshire, is it not? What brought you there?”
“I have a cousin who lives there,” Mama said, leaving out the part of the story where we had been able to stay with her for only a few weeks before her husband had declared we needed to find a new place. “And of course, after six years, we now have other friends there as well.”
Which friends did Mama mean? Mr. Green had monopolized most of our time, making it clear to others around us that he was to be our only real acquaintance. I hardly thought of him as a friend.
“Ah,” David said rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous way of his. He looked as though he wanted to ask more questions but wasn’t certain he should pry.
“We are glad you came to Breckenridge,” Miss Tate said quietly. They were the first words I’d heard from her since she’d greeted us during introductions. It seemed she would speak only in order to bring comfort to her brother. “We need more friends here.”
