AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes.” Lavinia sighed. “It seems my beautiful, redheaded child whom I adore and lavish with affection can say her own name and refer to her papa but refuses to say ‘mama.’”
Lucas shrugged sheepishly and then affectionately rubbed Beatrice’s nose with his own. “I can’t help it if the women in my life have excellent taste in men.”
Everyone laughed, and Lavinia threw her hands up in mock despair.
“Da!” Beatrice said. “Bea! Da!” She was obviously enjoying the attention.
There might be another actor in the family, Rebecca thought. “Can you say ‘Rebecca,’ Bea?” she asked her niece, tickling her under the chin.
“Don’t be disappointed if she doesn’t,” Lavinia warned.
“‘Rebecca,’” Rebecca repeated. “Can you say ‘Rebecca’?”
“Bea,” Beatrice said, grinning. “Bea. Da.”
“Rebecca,” Rebecca repeated. “Beck-ah.”
“Bah!” Bea exclaimed, clapping her hands gleefully. “Bah! Bah!” Rebecca looked smugly around at the group as they all—even Lavinia—laughed once again.
“No respect for the person who gave her life, apparently,” Lavinia said with dramatic flair. “Thankfully, it appears Wynn has now arrived to take her to the nursery so I will have time to lick my wounds. We must make haste to the dayroom, Rebecca, for I am in need of a distraction from my terrible injury, and I expect all of you to pay court to me.”
Rebecca laughed as they made their way to the dayroom, grateful they were here to keep her company. Her spirits had lifted a great deal already.
When they arrived at the dayroom, they found Thomas and Isobel waiting for them, along with piping-hot tea, fresh biscuits, and scones.
* * *
Ben knew Rebecca’s parents were leaving for London today and that someone named Lucas, presumably a brother, and hisentirefamily, whatever that meant, were to arrive either today or tomorrow to keep Rebecca additional company while her parents were in Town.
He debated whether that precluded a visit to Alderwood.
He didn’t wish to impose himself on an emotional family farewell, nor did he especially wish to intrude on a private family greeting. He was grateful—no,glad—that Rebecca had family joining her, he told himself. It lessened the burden he felt about taking time nearly every day to visit her and keep her boredom at bay. She would not be bored now. Others would be reading to her now. Having conversations with her . . . listening to her play the pianoforte . . .
He kicked a rock nearby and discovered it was larger than he’d originally thought and was buried partly in the ground. A sharp pain flashed through his big toe and continued through his foot and up his leg. Served him right, he thought, disgusted with himself. He wasn’t a schoolboy having a sulk.
But, blast it, he realized he actually enjoyed the time he spent with Rebecca and, surprisingly, wasn’t at all sure what to do with himself on his own—surprising because being on his own had beenpreciselywhat he’d been looking forward to when he had come to Lincolnshire in the first place.
After the hearty breakfast Mrs. Snow prepared, Ben set out on a walking tour of his property. He’d done so when he’d first arrived, but he knew more about the place and its servant-occupants now, and as he walked through the formal garden and on to the herb garden, he appreciated even more how they’d kept the property in such excellent repair despite their previous master’s declining health. They had been exceedingly loyal to his great-uncle John and were now showing the same loyalty to him.
He continued on to the vegetable garden. It hadn’t been planted yet, but the soil had been turned and the rows prepared, the ground well-raked and cleared of the debris that tended to accumulate over a long, wet winter. Everything he saw confirmed once again the assessment he’d made upon arriving in Lower Alderwood.
He went back to the house, chagrined when he checked the mantel clock in the front parlor and discovered he’d spent only an hour outside.
Hmm.
He went to the library.
Great-Uncle John had a decent library, although it was on the smallish side and the books within it appeared to be older than Ben would have preferred. Even so, in addition to the usual tomes about animal husbandry and mathematics, he discovered a few gems that interested him. A portfolio of musical ballads, for example, that he thought Rebecca might enjoy perusing to see if any were worth learning to perform.
The book he ultimately chose to read was Great-Uncle John’s personal journal, which he found, noton the shelves with the other books but in the large oak desk that sat in a position of prominence at one end of the room. He took it to a tufted armchair near a large window and began thumbing through it, curious to learn more about the man.
He soon discovered, however, that this was the most recent volume of the man’s journals, and it mostly contained details of the meals Mrs. Snow prepared him each day and whether it agreed with him digestively. Setting the diary aside, he did a quick perusal of the books in the library again but couldn’t see any earlier journal volumes on the shelves.
The hands on the mantel clock had moved only the equivalent of another hour. He checked his pocket watch to be sure the clock was accurate. It was. He sighed.
He wandered back to the window near where he’d been reading and planted his hands on the sill, staring out onto his nearly perfect lawns and gardens, and then he abruptly turned and began pacing the room.
Devil take him for a fool! The last thing he wanted, thevery thinghe had vowed to himself hewould notdo, was let another young lady steal into his affections. And yet, that waspreciselywhat he was allowing to happen with Rebecca Jennings.
