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“Just come right home,” he said and then kissed her softly.
“I will.”
She returned to the cottage and helped her mother collect her things and put them in the valise. Mia put the valise in the saddlebag while her mother lit a lantern. Grabbing the reins, she asked, “Are you all right with walking for a bit?”
“Of course.” Her mother gave her a strange look. “What is this about?”
“Hart would like you to look at Charlie when we return.”
“Why?”
“At first I thought he might be having a bout of madness but Hart noticed a few things tonight that has him concerned.”
“Such as?”
Mia sighed. She already had a feeling what was wrong with Charlie and it would hurt Simon dreadfully. “He wasn’t himself. He complained about a horrible headache, he seemed anxious and his eyes were glazed.”
“Oh dear,” her mother whispered. “Is he sleeping? Having nightmares?”
“Are you thinking what I am?”
“Did he admit to it?”
“I didn’t want to ask him in front of Hart. He will be so upset.”
Her mother nodded. “True but it’s better than him being mad.”
“Is it?”
Her mother shrugged. “This can be cured but it is not easy. It would explain his actions.”
“Yes.”
“But what is really wrong, Mia?”
Mia clenched her fist around the reins. “Do you think I am incompetent as a wise woman?”
Her mother stopped and looked at her. “Of course not, darling. Where did you get that idea?”
“You have never given me the opportunities that you gave Tia. She doesn’t even like being a wise woman!”
“Mia, sit down over here.” Her mother pointed to a large rock under a tree. After they both sat, she continued. “Mia, you are a fine wise woman. It has just never been what your life was supposed to hold.”
“I don’t understand.”
“From the time you were five, I realized you had a much greater talent for numbers than you did herbs. It’s not that you were incompetent but Tia always grasped the concepts much faster. You were much more like your father in that aspect.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t sound disappointed, Mia. I also knew you were destined for something greater than being an old country wise woman. I met a fortune-teller years ago that I helped with her gout. She told me one of my daughters would grow up to be a countess one day.”
Mia laughed. “And you believed her?”
“Well, my lady, you tell me?”
“I suppose she was right. But why didn’t you tell me years ago? I just assumed you thought I couldn’t handle the work of a wise woman.” And now she felt like a fool for admitting it to her mother.
“You could handle it but you have a greater purpose. With the earl’s difficulties, you need to oversee more of the estate than a normal countess should. Your father prepared you for that. And it is just as important as sewing up cuts and birthing babies. Plus, I am still young. I have plenty of time to find an apprentice to help me.”
