Page 31 of A Rogue to Cherish

“Of course. I understand. You can have Sundays off to visit your aunt.”

Nonetheless, the offer was too good to refuse, and she accepted it without hesitation.

*

Laurel was walkingpast when Wren was deposited back at home. She crossed the street and hurried to Wren. “Where have you been?”

“To Gordon Street. I was offered work there. At a house. Unfortunately, I have to live there now.” Wren hated that she’d not get to know Laurel better. “How is your aunt faring?”

They walked near the garden. Laurel pulled her to a bench. “Your aunt will be sad that you will be gone most days. I work near Gordon Street, at the antiquities gift shop. You can visit me whenever you need to go and fetch items from the butcher or chemist.”

Wren smiled. “The pay is more.”

“I am glad for you.” Laurel turned her face up to the setting sun. “Since Aunt Martha is better, I can return to work now.”

They discussed how Laurel went to work and decided they’d hire a caddy the next morning to ride to town together, as it was too far to walk from the village.

“Here comes your Aunt Mairid now,” Laurel said, waving when the older woman appeared. It occurred to Wren that she seemed more tired than usual lately. Probably from the added time of traveling after long work hours managing the laundry at the house.

Her aunt sat next to them without a word and let out a long breath. “It is a beautiful day, is it not?” she said, and like Laurel, lifted her face to the sun. “I do yearn for a long day to sit in the sun and do nothing more than allow it to warm my old bones.”

“You should consider not working,” Wren said. “I have a new position that will pay well. Between Lars and I, you will not want for anything.”

Her aunt studied her for a moment. “Just a few more months and I will do just that. I am saving to ensure I am not a burden on anyone.”

There were questions in her aunt’s gaze, but she refrained from asking. Instead, she turned to her friend. “Laurel, how is Martha?”

*

Mairid sat backand took several deep breaths. Despite the fact that Grant Murray did not live with his parents and that it would be improbable that Lady Roberts would find out about it, something about the situation of Wren’s new position did not bode well.

The man was much too interested in her naïve niece, and he was bringing her closer to him with each passing day. There weren’t many options for women of their class if a man dishonored them. Worse would be if something were to happen and Wren became with child; she’d be without work and there would be another mouth to feed.

“You must promise me,” Mairid began, making sure to get Wren’s attention by taking her by the wrist. “That you will not allow Mr. Murray any liberties. He is interested in you and can take advantage of you working for his mother as leverage. Please make sure you let him know you will not stand for any disrespect.”

Wren’s cheeks colored and she blinked. “Do not worry, Aunt Mairid. Although I am certain he is a gentleman, I promise you that nothing untoward will happen.”

She relaxed. But only a bit. Wren was a delicate thing. Slight and lovely, reminding one of a forest Fae. Everything about her was beautiful, from her heart-shaped face to her large, heavily lashed eyes, and her cascades of auburn hair. Even her voice was musical, her country lilt giving it a singsong sound.

Upon her arrival, Mairid had known it would be but a matter of time before the lass would catch someone’s eye, be courted, and then marry. However, Grant Murray’s interest was not what she wished for the girl. Someone like him, of an established family in Glasgow, would never marry a servant girl. She prayed Wren would prove to be intelligent and see through the façade of interest to realize it was nothing more than a passing fancy for the man.

Sadness enveloped her. If her sister and husband had not died, Wren would have remained safe, protected by her parents from something like this. It didn’t help that her own husband had passed recently, leaving such a large void, and making it necessary that she continued to work. Staying away from the house that held so many reminders of the past helped with her grief.

Everywhere there were reminders of her departed husband. At the same time, she wanted those reminders there. Things like his pipe on the side table next to his favorite chair; the smell of the tobacco was growing weaker every day. Or his scuffed boots that remained on the floor next to the wardrobe. And other things that Mairid couldn’t bring herself to dispose of, even though she knew he’d never return to use or need any of the items left behind. She couldn’t help but cling to any part of him, her wonderful Harry, that she could keep with her. One day she’d join him, but for now, her duty was to remain and care for Wren, who’d also suffered a great loss.

“You are worrying,” Wren said, placing a hand over hers. “I do not wish for you to fret. I promise all will be well.” At her smile, Mairid couldn’t help the tightness in her chest. Still, the smile was so much like her sister’s that in the end, it made her smile in return.

“Of course, I fret. You are what I have left of my dear sister. A beautiful reminder of her.”

Wren blinked rapidly, her eyes welling with tears. “I miss her so.”

“I know, dear. I do as well.”

They enjoyed dinner and a cup of tea while discussing the week ahead. Mairid made Wren promise to send word during the week to assure her all was well. They decided that on Sunday, they would work in the garden together and make time to visit Laurel and Martha.

By the time Mairid lay down for the night, she was at ease. First thing in the morning, she’d send a message with a lad to Lars asking that he do something for her. He would be closer to the Murray house and he could check on Wren.