CHAPTER TEN
C HAPTER T EN
O riana woke the next morning still tingling. This time it was not from Stanwood’s touch but her dreams about him. She quickly threw back her covers and strode to the washbasin. Visiting her tenants would erase him from her mind. At least for a while. He was taking up far too many of her thoughts. When she entered the breakfast room it was still empty.
A moment later Figgs entered the room. “Miss, please excuse me. I will order your tea and breakfast to be brought up immediately.”
“I am a bit early.” Oriana took her seat.
True to her majordomo’s word, a teapot arrived by the time she had shaken out her serviette.
“Cook wants to know if you’d like buttered eggs with bacon and toast.”
That sounded like an excellent way to start the day. “Yes, I would. Thank her for the suggestion. Please find out if the baskets for the tenants are ready.”
“Yes, miss.” Figgs hurried away.
It occurred to Oriana that the next time she arose beforetimes she should send word to the kitchen warning them. By the time her tea was ready, a footwoman had returned with plates of eggs, bacon, and toast.
“I’m to tell you that the baskets are ready. Figgs ordered the wagon to be brought around.”
“Send a message to Hobson that I’ll need a groom to drive the wagon. I will ride Mabella.” She really wanted to ride today. Still, the baskets were always appreciated and something she felt bound to give.
“Yes, miss.” Once again the servant dashed out the door to the kitchen.
When she strolled out the front door she was pleased to find the wagon filled with large wicker containers. One of the Green girls in training held the ribbons. The other held Oriana’s mare, waiting for her along with a mounting block. “Excellent. Tell me your name?”
“Mary Green, miss. Watts calls us Green One and Green Two. I’m Green One.”
“I suppose that’s one way to keep you straight.” Oriana scoffed to herself. Green One and Green Two indeed. Oriana mounted her horse.
“We don’t mind at all, miss.” Mary Green grinned. “We’re learning so much from him.”
“That is good to hear.” Green One and Two it is . “Let us be off. Follow me.”
On the way to the first tenant, she glanced behind her occasionally. The new groom obviously had prior experience driving. Then again, Hobson would not have sent her if he had not been fully convinced she would be able to tool the wagon.
They arrived at the first house to find Mr. Smith outside. Oriana reined in her horse. “Good morning, Mr. Smith. How are you doing?”
“We’re all well.” He rubbed his nose. “Weather’s been good for the crops. Nothin to complain about.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Since she had taken over the estate’s management, Oriana had seen how horrible a bad year could be. “Is there anything you need from me?”
He shook his head slowly. “Not a thing.” He continued to shake his head slowly, as if he were thinking about the question. “I’ll look at the roof again afore autumn.” He lifted his hat. “Need to get to the fields, miss.”
Mrs. Smith bustled out of the house, along with two of their sons and her older daughter. “Miss Oriana, it’s that glad I am to see you.”
Mr. Smith signaled to his children as she slid down from Mabella. “I brought you a basket. Cook sent a jar of strawberry jam.”
“That’s a treat.” Mrs. Smith smiled. “I wish she’d give me her recipe.”
She was not alone in that wish. “I doubt anyone could pry it from her. I am not sure what else is in this.” Oriana handed the heavy basket to the woman. “But there is certain to be something for the children.”
Mrs. Smith took it. “Please come in for a cup of tea. I made fresh bread yesterday, and there’s black butter.”
“That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” Mrs. Smith’s mother was from Ireland and was the only one in the area who made the apple concoction. “Now, tell me what I can do to make your life easier.”
They entered the house, where three younger children—two girls and a boy—were sitting on the floor huddled over a book. “I want these three and my older girl to go to school. I’d like the older boys to go too, but they need to help their dad.”
“There is a school in the village.” Albeit small and not well attended.
Mrs. Smith set about getting cups, bread, and the black butter on the table. “I can’t get my man to agree. He says it’s a waste of time and money.”
Perhaps what Stanwood’s family had done would work for Oriana’s tenants. “What if I were to pay you to send the children to school and send a wagon to take them there?”
“That would do it.” The woman’s pretty, round face lit up. “Mr. Smith isn’t one to turn away coin.”
“I understand that the older boys are needed for harvest.” When would be the best time period for them to attend school? “Would they have time to go to school before and after then?” There was also a more important question. “Would they be interested?”
“I know Johnny would go. Jimmy will get the farm. Johnny knows he’ll have to find someth’in’ else to do.” Mrs. Smith poured tea. “That worries me.”
That was always a problem with the boys who would not take over the tenancy or whatever business a family had. Will Hammersmith was a perfect example. “Let me give it some thought. If he likes to farm, perhaps a place can be found for him. Although I will say that learning to read, write, and do numbers could only help Jimmy as well.”
“Aye, you’re right there.” She motioned to the table. “Let’s drink our tea.” They were almost done when Mrs. Smith said, “Word has it you’ll be marrying soon.”
Oriana was so stunned she couldn’t respond for a few moments. Surely the village folks were not matching her with Lord Stanwood. “I have no idea where that came from.”
Mrs. Smith shrugged. “Heard it from Mrs. Lewis, who heard it from her cousin in Warwickshire.”
Who the deuce was in Warwickshire? Oh good God. Ognon! “Did she happen to give you a name?”
“A lord.” The woman regarded Oriana closely. “Same surname as yours.”
That snake! “I can tell you in no uncertain terms that I will never marry my cousin.” She had to find some way, short of marriage, to stop the muttonhead. “He can spread all the rumors he likes. I will not change my mind.” She took a bit of bread with black butter. “Not only that, but unless you hear it from me, I am not marrying anyone.”
“I’m right glad to hear that.” Mrs. Smith nodded, then gazed at Oriana over her teacup. “If you was to wed, Lord Stanwood would be a better choice.”
Oriana wanted to laugh, or cry, or hit something. “Yes, well. I think you will have me for a long time to come. I do not have the intention of marrying anyone.” She rose. “Thank you for the tea. I must be going.”
“It was a pleasure.” Her tenant smiled. “I’m looking forward to hear’in about the school.”
“It will not be long.” In fact, it would be as soon as she could make the arrangements. “I shall see you later.”
She returned to her mare and mounted with the help of a tree stump. She looked at the groom. “I should have asked if you needed anything.”
“I’m all right, miss.” The girl grinned. “Cook packed some tea and biscuits fer me.”
“In that case, let us be on our way to the next tenant.”
By the time she was on her way back to the house it had been strongly borne upon Oriana that the rumor of her wedding her cousin had spread like fire. One she must take pains to put out. As she had done with Mrs. Smith, she assured all of her tenants that she had no plans to marry and certainly not her cousin. As Oriana and Mary Green retraced their way to the house, they were passing the Smith farm when the oldest daughter, Susan, was being carried to the house by Johnny. The girl held her bleeding arm. “What happened?”
“The stile. Someone cut it,” he tossed over his shoulder as he loped to the house.
Oriana slid down from her horse and rushed to the door, opening it for him. Susan had tears running down her face. Not for the first time, she wished they had a doctor. Oriana would send for him. Perhaps the midwife would be better in any event. “I’ll send for Mrs. Edwards.” The only question was, how was she to do it? She’d have to send the groom. “Let me tell my groom.”
“The midwife’s at the Walker farm,” Mrs. Smith said. “She’s having the baby.”
Well, drat. Now what?
“Miss.” The groom stood at the door. “Lord Stanwood’s here.”
“What in the name of . . . Oh, never mind. Perhaps he could be of use.” Oriana strode into the yard. “We have an emergency. Somehow the stile was cut and Susan, one of the Smiths’ daughters, has been injured. The midwife is delivering a baby. Do you have anyone with medical skills?”
“Yes. I’ll send for our doctor.” He turned to the groom. “Take the wagon and go to Stanwood town. Across from the bakery is Dr. Fitzherbert’s infirmary. Tell him I said that we need him immediately.”
To her groom’s credit, she glanced at Oriana for approval before nodding and going to the vehicle. “I’ll bring him back as quick as I can.”
She watched the wagon speed down the lane. “I need to know how this occurred.” She walked back into the house. “The doctor in Stanwood is coming. How is she doing?”
“I think it’s broken, and there’s a deep cut.” Mrs. Smith wiped her hands on her now bloody apron. “But I’ve got her quiet for now.”
“Good.” The repairs must be made before anyone else could be injured. “Can Johnny show me which stile it was?”
She nodded. “Aye, miss.”
“I’ll be back soon.” Johnny patted his sister on her head, and she swatted at him.
Oriana and Stanwood followed the lad over two fields to a stile beyond which lay blackberry bushes. It was a popular place. The wonder was that no one else had been hurt.
“She was going to pick some for Ma to make a pie.” Johnny pointed at the pieces of the stile on the ground. “It looked like it always does, but when she climbed up, it fell apart.”
“Allow me.” Stanwood inspected the stile. “You’re right. It was cut in a way to make it look safe until there was any weight on it.” He held up a piece of bloody wood. “Here’s what caused the cut.” He glanced at the ground. “There are tracks to follow.” Stanwood glanced up at Oriana. “Would you like me to follow them?”
“You know how to track someone?” She knew she sounded incredulous and wished she had not revealed her surprise.
“I do.” He grinned. “Someone and something. Would you like me to do it?”
“Please. I’ll come with you.” It was, after all, her responsibility to try to discover who wreaked this damage.
“I’ll come with ye too,” Johnny said. “If ye don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Oriana nodded.
They followed two sets of footsteps for about a mile and a half before reaching one of the lanes that bordered her property.
“They had a carriage waiting,” Charlie said. “A heavy one, by the depth of the tracks.”
“They do not appear very deep to me.” Miss Ognon stared, frowning, down at the road.
“Look at the grass.” Charlie fought not to smile. “If it was a lighter vehicle, it would not be crushed so badly.” He glanced at her. “The question is, who would have done such a thing?”
“If I had to take a long-shot supposition, I would say it was my cousin.” Her lips formed a thin line. “He has been spreading around a lie that we are to be married. What do you want to wager that he will visit soon and offer his help?”
He was getting tired of Ognon. Tired of him using her property as a stake, tired of him trying to control her, and now this. In fact the man had become a dead bore. “I wouldn’t take that wager at all.” Charlie almost asked her how they intended to stop him. But he already knew how he intended to do it. Marry Oriana. “Let’s go repair the stile.”
“I’ll go get the tools,” Johnny said before taking off at a long-legged run. Leaving Charlie alone with her.
“I suppose you know how to make the repairs as well.” Miss Ognon sounded a bit put out at his possible skills.
“I do.” This time he did smile. “I was taught to be able to do everything I ask of my tenants and more. It builds respect.”
Tilting her head, she studied him as if he was a strange species of animal. “I can see how it would.”
They strode along for several minutes without talking. Surprisingly the quiet wasn’t tense. It was companionable. “If you want help dealing with your cousin, I’m glad to assist.”
“What could you do?” She stopped and her brows drew down. “Aside from having to watch for any more damage he might cause, I must quash the rumors he started about marrying me. My tenants are extremely unhappy with that thought. Apparently his reputation precedes him.”
Charlie took a breath. It was now or never. “Allow me to court you. Once people see that I am interested in you, they will no longer think you would wed your cousin.”
“How does that make things better?” She turned and started walking again. “I would then have to quash those rumors.”
Damn . She thought he wasn’t serious. “I don’t understand why. They wouldn’t be just talk.”
“You cannot be serious.” She whirled around with a look of shock on her lovely face. “We just met.”
“I can be and am serious.” Charlie leaned against a nearby tree with his arms crossed over his chest. “If we were in Town, we would not have spent the amount of time together that we already have, and in the type of environments where we would be able to talk at length.” He raised one brow. “Unless you have taken me into dislike.”
“Of course I have not!” She started to turn back again, but he pushed off the tree and caught her hand.
“In that case let me court you.” Charlie searched her eyes until she abruptly glanced away from him.
She returned her gaze to his. “I have too many responsibilities to consider marriage.”
Oriana’s amber eyes and the firmness of her tone indicated that she believed what she said. Yet he wasn’t ready to give up. He’d just begun his campaign. “Do you mean your lands and dependents?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I could not leave them. They have finally accepted me. Who would take care of them if not I?”
This sense of responsibility was one of the reasons his feeling for her had deepened so quickly. “I understand, but I’m not convinced that a solution couldn’t be found.”
“I will not give away my duties to another.” She crossed her arms, causing her plump breasts to rise higher. Causing him to imagine how they must look and feel, feel and taste—firm, soft, delectable—almost distracting him from the discussion. “My father did that, and it almost ruined him.”
He dragged his gaze from her bosom to her face. He knew better than to talk to her breasts. “My father, my sister, and my brother-in-law always taught me never to rely completely on a steward. During the short time I’m in Town each year I require weekly reports. I am also in correspondence with one of my most dependable tenants.”
“You are?” Her brows came together, as if she was attempting to decide if his method was good or bad.
“Indeed I do.” Charlie forced himself not to take her into his arms. “I care a great deal for my people and my holdings. It’s fortunate that I’m only one hard day’s travel from Town. If there is a problem, I can return almost immediately.”
“What would you do if there was a disagreement between your steward and your tenants?” Her amber eyes narrowed. Was she going to give him a test? “Who would you believe?”
“It would depend on the issue, but I’m more likely to believe my dependents.” He almost smiled, but that would project the wrong image. She needed to be able to trust him, and this conversation was important to them both. “I have known them all my life, and our fortunes are tied to the same land.”
Oriana tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing further. “The steward would be better born.”
That argument surprised him. He didn’t think she was the type of lady to consider that someone’s rank had anything to do with their honesty. He raised his brows. “I do not believe that a person’s status has anything to do with how honest they are.”
“I am glad to hear that.” Letting out a breath, she dropped her arms. He quickly took her hand and tucked it into his arm. “It still does not solve my problem. Aside from that I do not think I would make a good wife.”
“Indeed?” Charlie stifled a relieved laugh as he began leading her back to the stile. They were making progress. “Why is that?”
“I would never ‘obey’ anyone simply because I am married to him.” Her voice firmed, clearly challenging him.
“We could leave it out of the vows.” He waited for her to respond, then prompted, “Is that all?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I am extremely single-minded and like to have my own way.”
“Go on.” He was used to that type of lady. “I know several ladies of that ilk.” They were getting close to the stile.
Oriana slid him a skeptical look. “I have very firm opinions.”
“Hmm.” That was no surprise at all. “Do you hold those opinions even if they are proved wrong?”
She raised her nicely rounded chin. “I very rarely am.”
“I believe that.” They came into sight of the stile, where Johnny was working on the repairs. “Let us see how far he has got and if he wants help.”