“She went back to the house. I followed you, but I saw Graham and hung back.”
“But you stayed,” I observed. Mr. Ashby didn’t respond, just looked at me with sincerity. Whatever that sincerity meant, I couldn’t say for sure. So I changed the subject.
“Did you meet some new friends as I did?” I held up my arms to show him my bites.
A laugh crinkled his eyes when he realized what I meant. Finally, his blue eyes sparkled again. “They’re determined little things. I even got bitten through my trousers.”
“Sneaky devils,” I said, laughing.
We began the walk back, falling in step beside each other. A quick glance at Mr. Ashby told me he had a lot on his mind. I wouldn’t ask him about it, for I imagined they were the same things on my own mind.
“How did it go with him?” His voice was quiet.
I shrugged and attempted an unconcerned tone. “As well as it could go with someone I once loved who’s forgotten my very existence.”
“It will get better.”
I opted for no response. Instead, I looked around us. The farm was thriving, at least from what I could tell from our moderately high vantage point. Every field seemed to be producing something, and there were many people farming the land.
As we reached the porch, Patrice came around the corner with Lottie. They were laughing and Patrice looked more herself than I’d seen her in weeks. I smiled softly, glad to see my lady’s maid-turned-friend happy. Was it because she was working at a big house again? I hadn’t realized she truly missed the work, but I supposed it made sense. She had been happy at Edleroy. Remembering this filled me with guilt. I shouldn’t have brought her…but what would I have done without her? Having Patrice near, with her support and comfort, allowed me to be brave.
“What are you thinking?” Mr. Ashby asked.
I looked at him briefly. “Nothing, really.”
“Do you worry about Miss Patrice?” He bent his head to catch my eye, as if he needed to see them to understand my thoughts better.
Lifting my head, I allowed him to meet my gaze. “Fine. Yes. Afterall, I was the one who took her from her home, where she felt most comfortable and happy. It seems my entire notion of traveling across the seas was foolhardy.” The words came out in a rush, and I fell heavily onto a bench that sat against the side of the house.
I avoided looking at Mr. Ashby. How could I face him after coming to such a realization? It was humiliating. It was ultimately my fault he’d had such a difficult time as well. If he hadn’t been worried about my safety, perhaps things would have gone differently.
He sat down on the bench, too, which didn’t surprise me. Mr. Ashby had always seemed undaunted by my emotions. If I was distressed, he waited next to me until I was ready to speak about it. His patience seemed never-ending. Somehow, without even watching me directly, he could sense if I needed a handkerchief, a kind word, or a cup of tea. Perhaps even, rarely, a comforting touch on my back or my arm. Even more rare, holding my hand tightly to ward off more harmful emotions that might otherwise rip me apart. Like when Tallow died. Or Simon.
There would be no hand-holding today, though. Or, I suspected, ever again. We had to be more careful around one another. The time we’d spent aboard theKatarinahad come to an end, and our relationship would need to shift into something less personal. The garden was proof enough of that.
Rather than focusing on confusing feelings, I took a deep breath and looked at him with what I hoped was a lighthearted expression. “Whether you are honest or not makes no difference, but I need youto acknowledge that this journey was a disaster. I should never have come; I should have stayed in Scotland and never gone looking for Graham.”
His face transformed into pure tenderness as his gaze softened and a faint smile played on his lips. It made my heart flutter despite myself. He turned his body fully toward me. “I would never attempt to lie to you, Miss Findlay. Of course I wish you had been spared the sorrow of everything that’s happened. But I…” He left the sentence unfinished briefly as he took a long breath. “I cannot wish you never decided to make the journey.” His eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual, perhaps because his pupils were larger. I could see my reflection in them so clearly. Too clearly. I didn’t want to be looking at him like that. He glanced at my lips and I could feel my pulse quicken.
I turned away, laughing awkwardly. “Since I told you it didn’t matter whether you were honest or not, I suppose I should discount everything you say.” I stood and barely glanced at him before making my way back up to my room. It was only when I lay down in bed that my bites began itching again.
Chapter 25
“Willyoublessthefood, Mr. Weiss?” Mrs. Bowers asked. The table was filled with the crew of theMaelstrom—sans Whisper and others who’d joined their families in the mission—plus Patrice, Mr. Ashby, and me.
The bishop stood and we all bowed our heads to give thanks. The food was passed around the table as if it were a casual family dinner. There truly was no formality here. I wondered what Mr. Weiss and his wife thought of it, having come from the church headquarters in North Carolina. It must be vastly different from the society they were used to. Then again, I knew very little of society in the United States. They seemed to assimilate well enough. Perhaps the church was not much different there.
“Mrs. Bowers, you told me that finances have been tight recently. Now that we’ve arrived, I’d like to see to the ledgers and help find ways to improve the budget at the mission,” Mr. Weiss said to the mission’s patroness. As guests of the house, Patrice, Mr. Ashby, and I sat near Mrs. Bowers, and I heard the conversation very clearly.
“Certainly, I’ll get those to you directly. I’d be glad of the help. There have been shortages all over the world because of droughts. But sugarcane hasn’t been highly profitable these past years due to policy changes in Britain and America. My bookkeeping abilities are somewhat…amateur. I do well when the income is plentiful, but it’s hard to make ends meet when I have to move things around too much.” She laughed, showing her good nature even as she was self-deprecating.
“I know someone who is exceptional at making ends meet,” I suggested, looking pointedly at Mr. Ashby.
He wiped his mouth. “I have adequate experience in that area.” He nodded to Mrs. Bowers and Mr. Weiss.
“Oh, what fortune!” Mrs. Weiss exclaimed, placing a supportive hand on her husband’s arm. “Not only are they my life saviors, but they will save our budget too.”
Everyone who was part of the conversation laughed, gaining attention from the rest of the table.
