Page 11 of Waiting for Love

He had not told Jasper the whole story. He should have, but he needed this position. Now, he would do nothing to betray the man’s blind trust. So he trailed Olivia up the hill, training his eyes upon the backside of her horse rather than the gentle sway of her hips, and prayed Reg joined them quickly.

After setting their mounts to graze, Benjamin walked with her back down to the boathouse. She pointed out two boards at water level. “Those have softened.”

He nudged them with his boot. Rotting. “You are efficient.” He made an effort to smile. “Did Iversley mention the boathouse to you, also?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been living at Chaumbers for the past two years while my brothers have been flitting about London. I told Jasper.”

“Ah.” If he didn’t stop underestimating her, she would probably clock him.

He knelt in the dirt and prodded the boards more thoroughly. Then he took out his pocketknife and pressed it into the soft spots, carving out flakes of wood. Tapping his knife into other boards yielded nothing.

He sighed. “Well, the quickest course would be for me to yank out these boards and replace them. I am, in fact, quite competent handling a hammer and nails.”

“Will you then?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ll ask Willy Pyle to have a look.”

“Willy?” She sniffed. “He’ll say we need a new boathouse.”

Benjamin chuckled. “Yes. Yes, he will.” Willy Pyle was the preferred carpenter in the village. He did very good work, but he never did anything by half measures. “I’ll let him tear this one down and build a new one.” He glanced up. Her eyes were not the intense shade of blue that her brothers’ were. Hers were ice blue. And they were puzzled. He didn’t want to repeat the mistake of patronizing her, but he felt the need to explain himself. So as he rose to his feet, he said, “If I were to mend this, the Taverstons would have a perfectly functional boathouse, but that would be all. Whereas if I call in Willy, he will have a weeks’ long project that promises to pay him in actual coin. Maybe his daft nephew too. That coin will likely make its way to a farmer or two, and the butcher and tavernkeep in Iversley Village. Perhaps into some of the other shops as well.”

“Oh.”

“The people in Iversley are interdependent, as in any small village. But coin inevitably flows upward.”

“Rents and tithes. So Jasper needs to send some of that coin back down.”

“I don’t mean to say that it is required of him.”

“Oh, but of course it is! Noblesse oblige and all that.” To Benjamin’s surprise, Olivia beamed at him. “Mr. Carroll, you have just spared me at least two miserable months in London.”

“What?”

“Mama intends to drag me off to the best shops as soon as Reg and Georgiana’s baby is born. Late January or early February. I’ve been wearing mourning for a year, and before that, I didn’t leave Chaumbers for another year because Father was so ill. Mama needed me. So now I must have more than the usual new wardrobe for my coming-out. Mama is determined to engage the ton’s favorite modiste before anyone else does…” She stopped rambling abruptly and scowled. “Don’t look at me that way. It isn’t my idea.”

He realized he had been giving her a “look.” To his mind, first in line at the modiste’s shop was a frivolous concern. He blanked out his frown.

“But there is a perfectly wonderful dressmaker here in Iversley Village!” Olivia continued, excited again. “Mrs. Byrd. She made our mourning clothes. There is no reason she couldn’t make my coming-out wardrobe, and every reason she should!”

“Well, yes, but…” The last thing he needed was to be blamed for Olivia’s revolt. “The London fashions,” he said weakly. “She won’t know the latest—”

“Georgiana does. And Vanessa.” Olivia pealed with laughter. “Or I can go straight to the source and ask Hazard.” She clapped her hands with delight. “No one wants to go to London just when the first new Taverston baby arrives. It’s only that they all feel so guilty for neglecting me.”

“Neglecting you?” Young Olivia had never acted like a spoiled child. He could not see her as a pouting society miss demanding attention.

“Yes, it’s ridiculous. I’ve tried to tell them I don’t need to race off to London for clothes, but they all think I am playing the martyr or something. It’s no use to say I don’t need all this fuss. Mama says it’s no fuss at all, and Jasper says it’s his duty and his pleasure to spoil me.” She huffed with irritation. Then her smile burst forth once again, spraying him with sunshine. “But if I insist upon hiring Mrs. Byrd, with all the aforesaid arguments, I might not have to go to London until March, or even April!”

He stared. Olivia was a beautiful young lady. She would be nineteen now or near so. She couldn’t possibly be saying she didn’t want to go to London.

“Aren’t you eager? For the balls and such?” For all the earls and dukes and baronets who would be laying flowers at her feet?

Her smile dimmed. “Well, yes, of course I am.”

“You don’t sound eager.” Strange. He thought every gentlewoman lived for her coming-out.

“What alternative do I have?”

What alternative did she have?