AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I couldn’t do much for the girls, but I’d certainly be willing to help find positions for the boys.’
‘I don’t think it will come to that—but now you’ve made the offer, I will hold you to it!’ she warned. ‘Tremaine probably only discovered I was here by chance, when he broke his journey at the public house in Hadwell. A younger son with expensive tastes and no means, before the war he cultivated those who could entertain him in the style he prefers, drifting from country estate to hunting box to the London town houses of wealthier friends. Technically now out of the army despite the uniform, he’s taken up that pastime again.’
‘I am glad that his call provided me opportunity to see you.’
She looked up at him, surprised. ‘You knew about it?’
‘Tremaine stopped at Bildenstone for directions to the school. Wilton—and the rest of the staff, apparently—were concerned about the safety of you and the children out here, alone and unprotected.’
Embarrassment—and gratitude—warmed her face. ‘That was kind of them.’
‘You shouldn’t find it surprising. The Lady Wentworths of the county may look down their noses at your efforts, but your concern for the welfare of the lowliest in the parish has won you the admiration of everyone else.’
‘Take care of your soldiers and your sergeants, and the men will take care of you, Papa always said,’ she murmured, feeling again that ache at his loss.
‘True, and some commanders do so out of self-interest. But the men recognise those who treat them well out of respect and concern, and they don’t forget it.’
‘Much as I appreciate your reinforcements, I hope you didn’t feel compelled to interrupt your work to come rescue me. As you saw, I was able to handle it myself.’
‘I was glad to come. I know we agreed—or rather, you dictated—that we should avoid one another, but I owe you thanks for your advice. After the horrors you observed when we rode about the estate, I thought you might like to know how things are progressing.’
Despite knowing how important it was to start distancing herself from him, she couldn’t help feeling a flush of pleasure. ‘I would indeed.’
‘The first project was riding the rest of Bildenstone’s acreage, followed by an inspection of the estate ledgers. Unsurprisingly, I concluded that Winniston was at best incompetent and worst, skimming more off the top than he was entitled to. After Father’s death, he had no oversight; all the estate income was kept by him or deposited in the accounts, with nothing reinvested in the land or the tenants.’
She nodded, thinking of the old equipment and rundown dwellings they’d passed. ‘That was rather evident.’
‘I’ve removed him, with a pension only because of his family’s generations of service at Bildenstone. As soon as I complete the rest of the ledgers, I’m going to Newmarket to consult with the stable manager about selling my hunters. I may stop afterward at Holkham Hall to see Thomas Coke and consult with him about the latest in agricultural techniques. Perhaps get a recommendation for a new estate manager.’
Theo searched his expression—which looked resigned, but with none of the despair she’d seen in it before when he talked of selling off his hunters. He seemed...at peace with the decision, and ready to move beyond his loss.
‘I’m glad. Letting go isn’t easy, but acceptance is the first step in forging ahead.’ Then she had to laugh. ‘Listen to me, pontificating, when I’ve never been any good at it myself.’
‘Some things, you never want to let go,’ he said quietly.
Something in the timbre of his voice pulled her gaze back to his. A shimmering cloud of sensation enveloped them, breathtaking as a thousand dust motes gilded by the sun. But there was sweetness too, empathy, and a deep connection that curled around her heart like a pair of loving hands and made her bones ache with longing.
Ah, Dominic Ransleigh, you are so dangerous to my peace of mind, she thought, struggling to keep from reaching for him. Good thing you’re going away, before I blurt out how much I want you to stay.
Finally, losing the battle, she let herself take his hand, almost sighing at the jolt that tingled through her. ‘Best of luck.’
He held her fingers a few moments longer than was strictly necessary. ‘I won’t be ready to leave for a week or so. If you’ll permit, I’ll check with you when I return and let you know how it went.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, even as the protective voice within protested she mustn’t see him again. ‘I shall be interested in your plans for the improvement of the estate,’ she answered it back.
Liar, it whispered.
Ignoring it, she said, ‘I must get back. I owe the children a story and Miss Andrews a break.’
‘What are you offering them? Not Bowdlerised Shakespeare, I hope.’
‘Never!’ she said with a laugh. ‘I was delighted to find in your library an edition of Galland’s Les Milles et Une Nuit. I’d seen the English Arabian Nights translation, but the original French is so much better. What child could resist stories of sorcerers and jins?’
‘So you will be their Scheherazade. They will love it.’
‘I expect they will clamour for more. Good thing there were one thousand and one nights.’ And could there be anything in those Far Eastern stories more outlandish or shocking than the tale she didn’t finish telling Ransleigh?
By her omission, she’d managed to retain his good opinion. Keeping it gave her an even more compelling reason to hold him at arm’s length.
* * *
Two weeks later, Theo sat at the desk in her study at Thornfield Place, looking over the replies to her advertisement for a tutor for Charles. Though he’d continued accompanying her to the school and shared in the lessons, she brought him back to Thornfield Place every night, despite his protests that he’d rather sleep in the dormitory with Georgie and Jemmie. Soon he must start preparing for the more rigorous academics required of the gentlemen who sojourned at Oxford or Cambridge before taking up the management of their acreage. Though, she thought, envious of the men who could pursue study forbidden to women, most of the scions of the aristocracy devoted more of their time at university to entertainment and developing friendships among their peers than pursuing scholarship.
Once the time came, she’d not renew the leases and instead turn several of the properties she’d inherited over to Charles. She was idly wondering how soon they ought to visit the estates to decide which were the most promising, when a knock sounded at the door.
‘Miss Branwell, there’s a lady to see you,’ Franklin said.
‘Did she not give her name?’ Theo asked, curious. She’d been graciously introduced to several local ladies by Lady Wentworth, but having assured them she was seldom at Thornfield during calling hours, none had ventured out.
‘She said you’d not recognise her name, but that she had heard much of you and was very interested to meet you.’
Which told her exactly nothing, Theo thought, a little uneasily. Had Tremaine managed to drop a few words in some interested ears before he’d taken himself out of Suffolk?
If so, there’d be nothing for it but to face down the rumours. Fortunately, her dress and manner were so far from brazen or seductive, she had a good chance of successfully refuting whatever he’d insinuated.
‘I put her in the Green Room, miss,’ Franklin recalled her.
Conveying the visitor to the most formal receiving room, with its Wedgwood plasterwork and Adamesque ceiling, told Theo that the butler considered the caller a lady of rank and position. Not that the fact helped her narrow down the identity of her unexpected guest.
Glad she owned no gowns that weren’t modest in the extreme, and already thinking about tactics to counter any initial hostility and engage the woman’s sympathy, Theo girded herself for the fray and headed for the Green Room.
Normally, she paid little attention to the rituals of greeting, but if this were to be a subtle dance of step and counter-step, she meant to begin with every advantage. ‘You’d better announce me,’ she told Franklin, to his surprise.
Start from strength, Papa always said. So she’d play Lady of the Manor.
Walking in as the butler intoned, ‘Miss Branwell’, she sank into a curtsy. Her visitor, a woman some years her senior whose fashionable, obviously expensive gown and dashing bonnet justified the butler’s estimation of her status, rose to return it.
‘Miss Branwell, I am so delighted to meet you at last.’
Puzzled, Theo gazed down into earnest green eyes that looked vaguely familiar. The visitor was not any of the ladies she’d met after church, nor could she recall Mr Scarsdale informing her about any other family in the county with the wealth and status to dress its matriarch in such prime fashion.
‘As am I, I’m sure,’ she murmured. ‘Although you must excuse my ignorance. My butler did not give me your name.’
