Page 78 of Counting on Love

Chapter Twenty-Two

The morning dawned clear and warmer than it had been. It promised to be a beautiful day. Reginald thought they sorely deserved one after yesterday’s dreariness.

He was not early down to breakfast; he’d gone to bed late and slept like the dead. Jasper was seated in the breakfast parlor with a newspaper spread open before him. He looked more himself. The hollows beneath his eyes were less sunken. He must have gotten some sleep as well.

“Has anyone else been down?” Reginald asked, setting down his plate and sitting a few seats away so as to not crowd Jasper’s paper.

“Crispin and Jeffrey. They’ve already gone to take Jeremy home. Dr. Haraldsen approved. I suspect the Squire will be glad to have them both back.”

“I’m glad it was not any worse than it was.”

Jasper grunted and bit into his toast. After a sip of coffee, he added, “Father was still sleeping when I peeked in. I think I woke Mother. She shouldn’t sleep in that chair.”

“I know. But I doubt she’ll leave him even for a moment now.”

Jasper shook his head. Then he let out a groan. “This is so difficult, Reg. I want one day not to have to think. I want to lie in bed and do nothing but stare at the ceiling for a full twenty-four hours.”

“You’ve been shouldering the lion’s share. But you know Crispin and I will help any way we can.” The words sounded empty. He added, “If we can.”

“Yesterday Crenshaw had the gall—the gall—to drag me all the way out to his farm, complaining all the while that Willie Jepson had stolen one of his piglets. I didn’t need to see the damn pigs to know one was missing. We could have handled it there in the churchyard.”

“Oh, the devil!” Reginald swore. “Is he still picking on that poor boy? Willie hasn’t got the sense of a two-year-old. He wouldn’t know how to steal a pig.”

“Well, he did steal it. But not to fatten it up for slaughter. He made a pet of it. Crenshaw demanded it back and was cruel enough to say he meant to grind it up for sausages. Willie started bawling. It was asinine.”

“What did you do?”

“I tried to make Crenshaw see reason, but he’s a mean-spirited, spiteful old fart. So I bought the damn pig. For far more than it’s worth.”

“I’m sure Crenshaw was thrilled. Did it satisfy Willie?”

“It should. I hired him to be our new pig boy. Tollerson will have to put up with Willie for a while until he loses interest.” Jasper grimaced. “Then I suppose we’ll grind it up for some very pricey sausage.”

Reginald snorted.

“The thing is,” Jasper said, looking down at his hands and then up again, “the thing is, I don’t know what the Earl would have done. There are so many things I just don’t know.”

“You did fine. It’s just a—”

“I know it was just a pig. But that was this time. Next time it won’t be a pig. And I still won’t know—”

“And you don’t want to hear me say you’ll do fine. Jasper, it’s certain you’ll make a few mistakes. But I’m sure Father did too. And you should not discount the possibility that you may do some things better than Father did.”

“I just wish there was more time.”

Reginald’s throat closed. “So do I.”

He never had the talk with Father that Crispin had urged him to have. He never told him he wanted to work for the university instead of the church. He never said that he bore Mr. Tibury no grudge. He would never know how Father really felt about any of his youngest son’s decisions. Father would not live long enough to see those decisions carried out.

Jasper closed the newspaper he had probably not really been reading.

“I’ve been neglecting our house guests shamefully these last couple of days. I’m worried they will pack up and leave.”

“I’m sure they understand.”

“It was a mistake inviting them. But I expected I’d be here for the whole Season. And Georgiana would be snatched up by someone else. Then I’d have to start searching with no idea where to start. But this is absurd. I’ve gone about it all wrong. Hell, I’m not even sure she likes me.”

Reginald knew he was supposed to say of course she does. Instead, he said, “But you do like her?”