Lady Dallington let out a soft chuckle. “Well, I must admit that I am not surprised that Miles won.”
Miles shifted in his seat to face Lady Dallington. “Why is that?”
“Oh, no reason,” Lady Dallington responded with a warm smile. “Now, let us eat.”
The sun was low in the sky as Edwina made her way towards the Warrens’ cottage. She was smiling, something she was doing far more often now. It had taken her some time to find her way here, but she was finally happy, a feeling she thought she would never experience again after the passing of her father.
Despite all of this, she still had important matters that needed to be resolved. Her uncle had deceived her by withholding her inheritance, and he had a whole other family in the village.
As she approached the cottage, Edwina noticed Mrs. Warren crouched down on her knees, tending to her garden. Mr. Warren stood dutifully by her side, holding a set of gardening tools, engaged in conversation with his wife without noticing Edwina’s arrival.
With a friendly greeting called out from a short distance away, Edwina announced her presence. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” came the harmonious reply from both Mr. and Mrs. Warren.
Mrs. Warren rose from her kneeling position and removed the gloves from her hand. “What a lovely surprise. How are you faring this morning?”
Coming to a stop next to the couple, Edwina responded with equal cheerfulness. “I am well. And you?”
Mr. Warren slipped his hand over his wife’s shoulders. “We have survived another day so that must count for something.”
“I came to see how your ankle is healing,” Edwina said.
With a weary sigh, Mr. Warren replied, “It is healing rather slowly.”
Mrs. Warren gave her husband a chiding look. “That is because you are doing too much too soon. You need to rest more.”
“I will rest when I die,” Mr. Warren joked.
Edwina laughed. “You should listen to your wife more.”
“I should have known that you womenfolk would stick together,” Mr. Warren said lightly.
Mrs. Warren tucked her gloves into the pocket of her apron. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “We were just about to sit down for breakfast. You are more than welcome to join us.”
“You are most kind, but I should have breakfast with my family,” Edwina said. “Afterwards, I intend to go to the village with Lord Hilgrove and Winston.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Warren asked.
“Yes, when Lord Hilgrove proposed the idea of a carriage ride into the village, Winston was adamant that he should join us,” Edwina shared.
Mrs. Warren’s expression became worried, and she exchanged a glance with her husband.
Edwina noticed the unease between them and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“We should tell her,” Mrs. Warren said to her husband, pursing her lips.
Now Edwina felt a twinge of worry, too. “Tell me what?” she asked, turning her gaze from Mrs. Warren to Mr. Warren.
Mr. Warren frowned as he removed his hand from his wife’s shoulder. “I suppose it is time.” He paused. “The villagers are not happy with your uncle’s actions,” he said slowly.
“What do you mean?” Edwina asked.
“Lord Dallington has withdrawn most of his funding for the village, causing suffering amongst the people,” Mr. Warren explained.
Edwina couldn’t understand it. “But why would he do such a thing? If people are suffering, shouldn’t he be helping them?”
“Your father was generous to a fault, but your uncleappears to have a different approach when it comes to assisting the village,” Mr. Warren said.
