Page 10 of Reforming Lord Neil

Mrs. Clapham shook her head, not lifting her eyes from her bowl. “Not this year, darling. I am afraid we must do most of the harvest work ourselves.”

The little girl’s head tipped to the side. “But last fall we paid people—”

“And we have since learned how to manage ourselves. Besides, one cannot pay hired men in biscuits the way I can my daughter.” The woman’s swift interruption, and the somewhat playful remark on payment, was enough to make the girl giggle.

Likely the matter was less about the ladies being capable alone and more about paying hired hands.

“Mr. Duncan.” The grandmother addressed him, her tone almost business-like. “My daughter tells me you have experienced a recent change in fortune. While I have no wish to pry, I would like to ensure you are on your way to experience greater hospitality elsewhere. Do you travel to visit friends or family?”

A lesser man might have evaded the question, or stammered an answer. Neil pasted on a confident smile instead. “I have recently discovered I have no friends, at least in this part of the country, and it is family that has left me in my unfortunate circumstances. But I assure you, madam, that I am certain my situation is temporary.”

“Temporary?” Mrs. Clapham asked, and he gave his attention to her, seeing her frown. “Have you better fortune to look forward to, Mr. Duncan?”

“Eventually.” He shrugged. “Though I cannot say when.”

Mrs. Clapham looked from him to her mother, then back again. “Where will you go when you leave here?”

“I had thought to try my luck in Saxmundham.” His fingers tightened upon his spoon, but he made certain his tone stayed light. “Though that might prove as futile as the rest of my inquiries.”

“But you were riding north, Mr. Duncan,” Mrs. Clapham said. “Saxmundham is southwest of here. I think it would be just above ten miles from our home.”

“Ah.” Neil forced his tight-lipped smile larger. “Then I shall make it by midnight, perhaps.”

The women exchanged another glance. “There is no moon tonight, sir,” Mrs. Godwin said softly. “And it is not a safe journey to make at night, without a lantern.”

They were correct, of course. Neil put down his spoon and thought on the matter a moment. What was the name of the little village nearby? “Dunwich, then. I will find the inn.”

Mrs. Clapham was shaking her pretty head before he had finished speaking. “There is no inn. The public house is rather small, and the family lives above it. I cannot think of anyone who lets rooms in Dunwich.” She shifted in her chair, drawing a hand to her neck as she thought. “Walberswick is a mile north of here from the beach; if you take the road it is two miles. But it is difficult to get down to the shoreline with a horse.”

Neil gritted his teeth. Though a small thing, something he would have laughed at in days past, finding himself ill-prepared for a simple journey served to further strain his nerves. “Have you ladies any suggestions? I find myself in need of guidance in these strange lands.” He heard the strain in his voice, despite his efforts to remain amiable.

“He could sleep in the barn,” Caroline said brightly, her eyes glowing. “I did that once.”

Both mother and grandmother turned to the child, the mother with her lips parted in a gasp and grandmother with narrowed eyes.

“Young lady,” her mother said, tone firm. “When did you sleep in our barn?”

The child ducked her head. “Last week. Jill Martin wagered me a kitten that I would not do it.”

“Jill Martin?” The grandmother raised her eyebrows. “I doubt her mother knows about this.”

Mrs. Clapham’s voice was softer, almost sad, when she spoke. “A wager. You slept outside, without my knowledge or permission, for a wager? Caroline Clapham, you are excused from the table and will go to bed.”

Caroline’s brows lowered mutinously. “But I have not had my cherries—”

“And you will not have them tonight. I will speak to you before I turn in this evening. Go to bed. Now.”

The girl stood, frown nearly comical in its intensity. She dipped a curtsy without meeting anyone’s eyes, then fled the room. Neil heard her footsteps on the floor, then a pounding up steps somewhere beyond the kitchen, before the steps hammered above them.

“I apologize for my daughter’s conduct,” Mrs. Clapham said quietly, drawing his attention away from the ceiling boards and back to her. She appeared rather tired as her shoulders slumped, two dark circles beneath her eyes. “We are not usually so dramatic at the dinner table.”

Neil had no wish to distress the woman. She obviously had enough in her life to cause her difficulty. His own issues would solve themselves in time, he was certain. As long as his father relented before Neil’s money ran out. Hopefully, the necklace and the other earring he still possessed would keep him from too much discomfort. For a time.

“The apology is not at all necessary, Mrs. Clapham. I am afraid I did far worse than sleep in a barn at her age.” He tried for a confident, teasing smile, but when she only sighed and rubbed at her forehead, he wondered if he had lost his ability to charm as well as his fortune.

The grandmother cleared her throat. “Mr. Duncan, thank you for your understanding. Though I would not usually countenance such a thing, Caroline’s suggestion might be the only one we can offer you this evening. The barn has a loft, sir, that is clean. Sleeping there this evening may be your best option.”

Had he really descended so far beneath his station as to consider sleeping in a barn? His smile slipped away at last. Where else would he go? There were no nearby inns. Without a moon, travel at night would be dangerous for Neil and for his horse. Sleeping out in the open did not sound pleasant, either.