She gave him an expectant look, her eyes searching his for answers. “Will you tell me what is going on?”
“I will, in due time,” Winston assured her.
Her expression softened slightly at his reassurance, but the underlying worry remained etched in the lines of her face. “Do not wait too long, Son,” she urged. “If you will excuse me, I shall return to the drawing room.”
Once he was alone again, Winston released a heavy sigh.He didn’t think he had helped the situation by his confrontation with Isaac, but he sure hadn’t made it worse.
Before he could dwell further on the matter, Grady’s voice cut through the silence from the doorway. “You wished to see me, my lord.”
“Yes,” Winston replied, his tone serious. “I want you to follow Isaac. I need to know where he goes and what he is up to.”
Grady inclined his head in understanding. “I was hoping you would say that,” he acknowledged before turning to leave.
Mattie stepped into the kitchen through the back door of her cottage, a familiar scent of herbs and simmering broth greeting her. She had spent the afternoon with Lady Dallington and her two daughters, where there was never a dull moment.
Mrs. Watson stood at the hearth, her back turned as she stirred a pot. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled warmly. “Welcome home,” she greeted. “Your father returned home over an hour ago. I was wondering when you would be back.”
“I did not intend to stay with Lady Dallington as long as I did,” Mattie admitted, closing the door behind her and stepping into the warmth of the kitchen.
“I am glad that you feel so comfortable there,” Mrs. Watson remarked.
Mattie pulled out a chair at the table and sat down with a soft sigh. “I am hoping my father agrees to let Lady Dallington host me for the Season.”
Mrs. Watson wiped her hands on her apron and sat beside Mattie. “That is a big ask,” she said thoughtfully.
“I know.” Mattie sighed again, this timemore deeply.
With a knowing look, Mrs. Watson said, “I never said that it was impossible.” She reached over and took Mattie’s hand. “I wanted to talk to you about me staying behind when you leave for Darlington Abbey.”
Mattie frowned. “Well, I do not like it one bit.”
Mrs. Watson squeezed her hand tenderly. “This is not about you, my dear. I have always thought of you as a daughter, having watched you grow up. But my son needs me now. His wife is about to have a baby, and they have no one else to help them.”
“I understand,” Mattie responded, though her voice was filled with sadness.
Mrs. Watson’s eyes softened with kindness as she reassured her, “I will still see you, you know. Darlington Abbey is not so far away. I can take the mail coach to visit you.”
Mattie blinked back tears. “You would come visit me?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Watson said. “I need to ensure that you are taking care of yourself.”
“I would like that,” Mattie expressed.
Mrs. Watson released her hand and stood up. “Now, you better go speak to your father before you wash up for supper,” she said. “He was asking about you.”
“What do you think he wants?” Mattie asked, rising.
The housekeeper shrugged. “It could be any number of things. Who am I to say?”
Mattie moved over to the hearth and peered into the pot. “Do you need any help with supper?”
“Absolutely not!” Mrs. Watson declared with mock sternness. “You are the daughter of a viscount now. I can’t have you helping in the kitchen.”
“But you would let me when I was the daughter of a vicar,” Mattie protested.
“That was different, and you know it,” Mrs. Watson responded. “You are a lady and should not be concerning yourself with the ins and outs of the kitchen.”
Mattie glanced around the familiar room, a place where she had spent so many happy hours. She knew she would miss this place dearly when she left for Darlington Abbey.
