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“Forgive me Mrs. Millwood, I hardly know if I should tell you what possessed me. I find you quite charming, and most pleasant to look at. As far as mourning – my own father departed this earth at about the same time as your husband did – so I have seen rather an extravagance of mourning wear recently. For a gentleman, mourning clothes are a far simpler matter than for a woman. I confess that my normal attire tends to the plain and dark, so that mourning is not a great change for me. As you ask, I will turn my regard outward.”
She appeared somewhat disarmed by this response, and the tension left her. But it was obvious to him that she chose her next words carefully.
“Maggie Carter has been kind enough to let me enjoy her company for two months now. I have written to my husband’s family to ascertain that they truly meant to cut me out of their lives. I await an answer. I fear that I must make a decision soon. Now, sir, you know my business quite beyond propriety. Do tell me more about yourself. Is it your pleasure to manage the lands? What does that entail then, a daily canter around the fields and meadows?”
He turned his gaze to her again, for long enough to cause a blush to rise up her delicate neck.
Then he laughed and slapped his knee, causing her to jump, but only a little – he wondered that she startled so easily.
“You really don’t imagine that seeing me on the horse will cause the farmers to tend the crops and mend the fences do you? These men are tenants and manage their allotments well for their own welfare, as well as that of the estate. The estate receives rent and a percentage of the monies from the harvest, it’s true – and to ensure the best profit for all, I advise and sometimes make improvements in the plans. A great house has responsibility for its people. I want them to succeed and be happy and healthy. Visits are important to truly see the state of things.”
Chapter Five
It was obvious to Verity that Mr Trowbridge had no idea that his concern about the people revealed his character, and his probable status as much higher than he’d implied. What he’d said about himself had indicated that he was a younger son or a cousin of the Duke of Summerfield, and at first, she had accepted that. But now… the truth appeared to her to be somewhat different. However, if he wished to remain somewhat obscured, she could not really blame him.
Oddly, the apparent subterfuge did not worry her. There was just something about this man that she trusted, instinctively.
She was warmed by his enthusiasm as he continued to describe his discussions of accounts with his friend John. When he described finding little Robert in the tree, Verity began to suspect that she knew who he truly was – or at least who he was very closely related to.
Maggie’s kitchen was a favourite destination for young Robert, as she usually had sweet biscuits in a jar and milk from the cow that the Inn kept behind the stables. Robert had been there only last week, bragging again about the time that he had ridden General with Lord Moorwood, who was going to be a Duke.
Lesser son or cousin indeed!
He had implied that, but now he had given himself away. She would not challenge him on it, however – let him have his secret, if he wished it. Of course, she thought as she looked covertly at the man beside her, and could not suppress a sigh, surely this man was beyond her reach. No matter how pleasant she found him, he was at a level in society that a woman in her situation could not possibly aspire to. Any thought in that direction was something which she should repress, for such ideas could only lead to unhappiness for her, more so than her life already held. And that was especially true, given the child she was now certain that she bore. No man of his station would consider marrying a woman carrying another man’s child. In that moment, she was most glad that, so far, she had not expanded any appreciable amount, for being visibly with child would only cause her trouble, she was sure.
They talked and talked, his horse happily grazing nearby, as the day wore on. Finally, as the air around them turned a little cooler, they were brought back to themselves and realised the hour.
“Oh”, said Verity, rising quickly, “I must get back, Maggie will be worried about me.”
*****
“I insist on escorting you, Mrs. Millwood. I do beg your pardon for rambling on for so long”.
Daniel was disconcerted by his reactions to this woman. If he were to be truthful with himself, he would have to admit that he did not want the afternoon to end.
They walked back to the yard behind the Inn, General following easily behind them, his reins looped over Daniel’s arm.
Seeing her to Maggie’s door, Daniel bowed slightly and turned to leave, only for a voice to make him turn back. He caught the eye of a grinning Maggie Carter as she opened the door and called to him.
“My Lord, won’t you stop for some tea?”
The old woman fairly radiated glee. He suspected that she had seen the same possibility as he had, in that moment of clarity up on the hill. She had known him for so many years and understood him far too well.
“Maggie I’d love to accept, but it’s late, and I must be returning to the house. Mrs. Gracie will have a fit if I miss supper again.”
“Another time then Daniel - you will be wanting to see Mrs. Millwood again, I’m sure.”
Mrs Millwood stood beside him still, for her entry to the house was blocked by the old woman. She blushed at Maggie’s words.
“You may count on it, Maggie, I’ll be calling in two days at tea time, and we’ll discuss your biscuits.”
Laughing, Maggie stepped aside, and Mrs Millwood went past her, and disappeared into the little cottage. Daniel’s gaze followed her, without him having intended it. Maggie eyed him, and then spoke again, quietly.
“Taken with her, are you? If you are, that’s good, she’d suit you well. But mind, she’s not a bit of fluff to be trifled with. An Earl’s daughter, that one is, no matter that she’s fallen on hard times. If you’re interested, treat her like the true Lady she is.”
Daniel’s eyes widened at Maggie’s words. So… he was not the only one holding back information about their true position in the world. For, no matter that she’d married a man with no title, she’d been born a Lady, and was still entitled to be addressed as such. But she’d chosen to be just Mrs Millwood.
“I didn’t know that Maggie, although I suspected that she was gently born, from her bearing and her education. I must ask you a favour. I have not told her of my title – I am so heartily disgusted by how much titles cause women to fawn. This time, I introduced myself by my name, but simply as a lesser relative. Please allow my little misdirection to go on – at least for a while. It was so pleasant to spend time talking to a woman simply as a person, rather than as a title which walks.”
