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Lilian grinned. “Would you like the recipe?”
Isabel nodded. “Very much.”
Lilian collected a jar from the windowsill. She took out a piece of paper and handed it to Isabel. “Here. And I do not think you need to worry about Millicent much. Children know a kind heart when they see one. Millicent will see it in you quite soon. I am certain.”
Isabel folded the recipe and put it into her pocket. “Perhaps you can help me win the hearts of the villagers, too?”
“Oh, the villagers. Well, they too have a reason to be mistrustful.”
“How so?” Isabel moved closer to the edge of her seat.
Lilian just waved a hand. “The master was young when he inherited the marquessate, inexperienced. Made a few mistakes. It took him a long time to earn back their trust. But now he spends a lot of time with the farmers and comes to visit the tenants quite often.”
“He visits the tenants himself?”
Lilian gave Isabel an odd look, and Isabel realized she gave away too much with her questioning. It was evident that she and the marquess were not conversing much.
“Yes. He cares for the villagers. He brings us all the necessary supplies. He even reads to the children every other week at the book shop. The village children don’t get much education, so they all treasure it.”
Lilian looked at Isabel bright-eyed, but something sank inside Isabel’s chest.
She did not know her husband at all. And as much as she was angry at him for judging her prematurely without knowing anything about her, she realized she was doing the same thing. She needed to change that, she decided. But, in the meantime, an idea came to her that would help her with the tenants.
Isabel stood. “Thank you, Lilian, for tea and conversation. I am beyond grateful to you. But the sun is going down already. I need to return home.”
“Of course.” Lilian tipped her head. “You are welcome at my home anytime!”
