AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sarah?” asked Cecelia, puzzled.
“You, Cecelia.”
She blinked. The tenderness in his deep-blue eyes made her pulse accelerate.
“You can count on that,” he added. “Forever.”
The last word sank in like a fish slowly descending in deep water. Since her mother’s death, Cecelia had never had anyone she could absolutely count on. She realized that she found it difficult to believe in such a thing, even now.
“Do you doubt it?” he asked.
“No…I…” She couldn’t find the right phrase.
His expression became wry. “Well, I shall prove it to you. While you work tirelessly on the Tereford properties, readying them to pass along to your children…”
“Ourchildren.”
“I certainly hope so,” he joked. “I shall be just as diligent inbestirringmyself. I’m certain you’ll be convinced by the time we are sixty or so.”
It was a jest, but with a slight sting. She put her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said.
“And I, you. With all my heart.”
Thirteen
Informalwas a charitable term for dinner at Tresigan, Sarah decided. It did not convene until quite late, for one thing, after their meager household goods had been distributed from the carter’s load. For another, the whole household sat down together at a dining table with no table linens and only four small candlesticks for light. They had bread and a ham. Sarah had chosen not to inquire about the several boxes of provisions that had undoubtedly been purloined from the Poldene kitchens, along with the crate that had certainly come from its wine cellar. She was certain that Kenver’s mother knew nothing about these “donations” and wondered if vengeance would descend on their heads when the theft was discovered.
Looking around the group, some eating with their fingers due to a shortage of cutlery, Sarah found herself thinking “motley crew.” Sturdy, blond Elys looked uneasy at the dining arrangement, perhaps worried about making a mistake before her new employers, whose kitchen she was to oversee. Siblings Gwen and Jowan seemed more at ease. Clearly, they shared a buoyant temperament as well as dark hair and eyes. Sarah suspected that sixteen-year-old Jowan saw this posting as a lark rather than an actual job. On the other side of the table, the wildly bearded Merlin was stuffing a whole slice of ham into his mouth. She’d invited him to the meal when she found him sullenly pulling radishes in the garden, unable to help herself.
With his free hand, Merlin reached for the loaf, his fingers encountering Kenver’s on the same errand. Kenver frowned at him. Merlin ignored his disapproval and tore off a hunk. “Hardly ever get proper bread,” he said thickly.
It was no wonder he was so thin, if he was living chiefly on vegetables, Sarah thought.
“Or earn money to pay the baker,” said Kenver.
“Earn, is it?” Merlin replied. “That’s what you do, eh?”
Kenver gritted his teeth. He found Merlin very irritating, Sarah knew.
“I can snare a rabbit,” the hairy man added. “Can you?”
“I can,” said Jowan. “Me and Dad used to…”
His voice broke off, probably because they’d been poaching, Sarah decided.
“I could go out and shoot a few birds…” Kenver began.
Sarah watched him realize that he had no way to do so. He was used to equipping himself from Poldene’s sleek gunroom and walking its acres when he wanted small game. Now he had neither of these to hand. His expression suggested that he resented these lacks. Indeed, everything about the house seemed to annoy him. The idea killed her appetite.
She rose from the table, took one of the candlesticks, and went to wander through her new abode. Tresigan was not only much smaller than Poldene but also smaller than her family home. Compact, Sarah decided, refusing to be daunted.
The rooms were all arranged around the central courtyard, cleared of ivy now and looking rather bare. It must have been a garden once. Now it was tumbled earth and uneven stones. She walked along the rear of the ground floor, through the kitchen, past a pantry and a twisting staircase narrower than the front steps. A doorway led into a barely furnished parlor, the grandest room in the place. One set of the garish draperies had been hung from its windows. From there, one could pass through the entryway with its grander stair into a smaller room opposite, empty just now. Sarah had directed them to put her books here. Eventually she would have shelves, she hoped.
A closed door at the back led to the dining room. She did not return there. Instead, she went upstairs. Her footsteps echoed in the emptiness.
Four bedchambers marched around the courtyard opening on the upper floor—two larger at the front and a small pair in the rear. Their fireplaces lined up with the quartet below. There was an empty linen cupboard between the smaller rooms, beside the back staircase. One rather odd thing was the lack of communication between the front and rear of the house on this floor. The back stair gave access to the small bedrooms, the front stair to the larger ones. There was no passage through.
Sarah didn’t go on to the attics. She already knew they were divided into six small rooms, only three of which had furnishings. Gwen Elys, and Jowan had made themselves at home in these. Looking down into the back garden, Sarah noted the privy, set well away from the vegetable planting and still adorned with a curtain of ivy, and a shed holding firewood. There seemed to be plenty of that, at least. Merlin must have been gathering it. No, more likely the duchess had procured a supply.
