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“You’re goin’ to have to be more careful now that there are other people around,” Henry said. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and turned him to face Emily and Phoebe. “This ’ere is Miss Norton and Miss Hadford. They’re goin’ to be helpin’ gather the apples today. Ladies, this is my sister’s grandson, Weston.”

“Mornin’, Miss Norton and Miss Hadford.” Weston bowed his tussled head.

“Good morning, Weston,” Emily said.

“Good morning, Weston.” Phoebe smiled at the boy. “It seems to me that you must be very good at scaling trees.”

Weston’s ears turned red, but he looked rather pleased at her comment.

“’E is that, Miss Hadford,” Henry said. “I’ve just been tellin’ ’im that ’is job today is to climb up these trees and get the apples down to you ladies. If you’d be good enough to load them into the baskets or the barrow, I’ll haul them into the tumps. The sooner we get these apples sweetenin’ up in the sun, the better.”

“Very well.” Phoebe picked up a large basket sitting beneath a nearby tree. “Up you go again, Weston.”

The boy did not need a second invitation. He was up the tree as fast as a squirrel.

“Watch fer people down below this time,” Henry called as the boy disappeared between the branches.

“Yes, sir.” Weston’s response was punctuated by the thud of another apple hitting the ground.

Adam needed to get out of the shed. He’d been crushing apples and pressing pulp for hours. Everything smelled of apples, and he had all but forgotten what it felt like to breathe fresh air.

“Take a break, Oliver,” he called over the grind of the mill. “And let Molly rest for a bit. I am going out to the orchard to check on things there. I shall send Henry back to take my place.”

“Very good, m’ lord.” Oliver was already slowing Molly’s steady walk to a slow plod.

Adam rinsed his sticky hands in a bucket of water and walked outside to shake them dry. The sun was shining, and a light breeze tugged at his hair. Knowing that Henry was hoping to load the last of the King of the Pippins into tumps today, Adam started toward that part of the orchard.

An unfamiliar zing of anticipation shot through him. When he’d arisen this morning, he had all but decided that Miss Hadford’s offer to work in the orchard would come to naught, but when Thompson showed up with a midday repast, he had informed Adam that Miss Hadford had, indeed, arrived earlier and that she and Emily had been in the orchard ever since.

He heard Emily’s laughter before he saw them. The sound lightened his heart and made him smile. No matter what Miss Glover thought, Miss Hadford had opened the door on the joyful portion of his sister’s personality, and he was immensely grateful. He was only now realizing how limiting it had been for Emily to have an elderly spinster and an antisocial older brother as her only companions. Up until the day Miss Hadford had entered Dunsbourne Manor, his sister had been far too serious for her age.

He followed the voices, slowing when he saw the flicker of clothing through the trees.

“Those are the last of ’em from this tree, Miss Hadford.” Weston’s voice rang from somewhere above.

“Nicely done, Weston. Did you hear that, Henry? We are ready to move on to the next tree.”

The barrow’s squeaky wheels gave away the gardener’s approach. “That’s grand. One more load, and I reckon the tump’ll be ready for straw.”

“Come along, Weston,” Emily said. “Let us see how many we can gather before Henry and Miss Hadford fill the barrow.”

Adam stepped into the small clearing in time to see Weston scramble down one tree and run for the next. Emily was close behind him. To his surprise, Miss Glover was standing nearby, a basket in hand. She was watching Weston’s rapid ascent up the tree trunk with a mixture of incredulity and terror. At his right, Henry was supervising the transfer of a large basket of apples into the barrow. The young woman at his side wore the simple gown and apron of a maid, but her golden hair gave away her identity.

“I will take the barrow this time, Henry,” Adam said, stepping up beside the older man. He heard Miss Hadford catch her breath, but he did not look at her.

“’Afternoon, Lord Dunsbourne,” Henry said. “Didn’t hear you come over the ruckus of all these apples rollin’.” He handed the basket back to Miss Hadford. “We’re moving right along, m’ lord. This load’ll do it fer the next tump, and I reckon we only ’ave one an’ a half more rows of the King of the Pippin trees, an’ then we can start on the Genet Moyle.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Adam raised the barrow handles. “If you would be willing to take my place in the shed, I shall top off the tump with these and will apply the layer of straw.”

“Right you are, m’ lord.” He bobbed his head. “Miss Hadford ’ere can show you where the tump’s located.”

Henry shuffled off, and Adam turned to Miss Hadford for the first time.

“You came,” he said.

“Of course. I told you I would.”

He knew she could have no idea how much those simple words meant to him.