Chapter 6

Chapter Six

As Edwina descended the grand staircase, her eyes caught sight of her aunt standing in the entry hall. The wide brim of a straw hat sat slightly askew on her head.

Her aunt had always been a striking woman with her blonde hair and fair skin, but the lines on her face were starting to mark her advancing age. But it wasn't just her face that made her beautiful. It was the way she was quick to smile or offer a comforting embrace.

"Where is your hat?" her aunt asked.

Edwina came to a stop on the bottom step. "I forgot it," she said sheepishly.

Her aunt didn't chide her but rather turned towards the butler who stood nearby. "Will you retrieve Lady Edwina's hat?" she requested.

White nodded with a bow. "Yes, my lady," he responded before he departed to do her bidding.

"Thank you," Edwina acknowledged.

Her aunt smiled. "You can't very well go into the village without a hat. What are you, a ruffian?" she teased.

Edwina returned her aunt's smile. "Good heavens, I think not. "

"There it is," her aunt said. "I have missed your smile. I daresay you have been far too serious as of late."

"I suppose I have," Edwina admitted.

Her aunt stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on her sleeve. "You are loved. I hope you know that."

"I do," she replied, grateful for her aunt's kind words.

"Good, because we will get you through this," her aunt said, lowering her arm. "We can't have you moping about when we arrive in London for the Season."

Edwina lifted her brow in surprise. "I thought I was not to have a Season."

"Who told you that?" her aunt asked, tilting her head curiously.

Pressing her lips together, Edwina didn't wish to reveal that she had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

Her aunt gave her a knowing look and lightly chided her for it. "You have been eavesdropping again."

"I did, but only because you were speaking about me," Edwina admitted.

"If you had stayed around a little longer, you would have heard your uncle relenting and agreeing to let you have a Season," her aunt said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Edwina stared at her aunt in disbelief. "How did you manage to convince him?" she asked incredulously.

Her aunt's expression softened. "My dear, you didn't truly think I was going to stand by and deprive you of a Season, did you?" she asked.

"But Uncle was so adamant."

"As was I. But my powers of persuasion are not to be underestimated," her aunt responded. "Besides, you do have a dowry of fifteen thousand pounds. That is not something to scoff at."

White approached them with a black bonnet in his hand, extending it to Edwina.

Edwina accepted the bonnet with a gracious nod and murmured her thanks before placing it on over her loose chignon.

"Shall we?" her aunt asked, gesturing towards the front door where their coach awaited.

A knock came at the door and the butler went to open the door, revealing the tall, silver-haired Mr. Stanley. He had been her father's man of business for as long as she could remember, and now he worked in the same capacity for her uncle. His warm smile immediately put Edwina at ease, just like it always had when she was a child.

Stepping into the entry hall, Mr. Stanley bowed. "Lady Dallington. Lady Edwina," he greeted. "What a pleasant surprise."

"We were on our way to the village to do some shopping," Edwina shared.

"Very well, do not let me stop you," Mr. Stanley said as he stood to the side.

Lady Dallington gave him a pointed look. "I expect your business with my husband will conclude before our supper."

Mr. Stanley nodded. "I shall ensure that it does, my lady."

"Thank you," Lady Dallington said.

Turning his attention towards Edwina, the concern was evident in Mr. Stanley's voice as he asked, "How are you faring, my lady?" His brown eyes bored into hers, searching for any signs of discomfort or stress.

Edwina mustered up the most convincing smile that she could. "I am well."

Mr. Stanley didn't look convinced, but thankfully he did not press her. Instead, he remarked, "It is a lovely day to go shopping."

"It is," Edwina agreed, trying to match his enthusiasm.

Her aunt interjected, "We must depart if we want to enjoy our time shopping at a leisurely pace. We can't very well be late to supper, now can we? "

Edwina eyed her aunt warily. "How long do you intend to shop for ribbons?" she asked.

"All day, if I have my way," her aunt declared as she gracefully exited the manor. "Come along."

With a tip of her head at Mr. Stanley, Edwina followed her aunt out and stepped into the waiting coach.

After they were situated, her aunt broke the comfortable silence. "It has been far too long since we went into the village for some shopping," she said with a contented sigh.

"It has been," Edwina agreed.

Her aunt studied her with a discerning eye before saying, "I saw you on the lawn with Lord Hilgrove earlier. You two appeared to be getting along quite well."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Edwina replied.

"Lord Hilgrove is hurting, just as you are," her aunt gently reminded her. "It is often beneficial to surround yourself with others who understand what you are going through. It helps in the healing process."

Edwina adjusted the strings of her bonnet under her chin, considering her aunt's words carefully before revealing, "I have decided that I am going to help Lord Hilgrove."

Her aunt lifted her brow. "How exactly are you going to do that?"

"I don't know all the particulars yet, but I can sense his pain," Edwina admitted. "I want to do something meaningful with my life instead of wallowing in grief."

"An admirable goal, my dear, but if I may point out, you are still struggling yourself," her aunt remarked.

Edwina understood her aunt's concern but she was determined to follow through with her plan. "That is precisely why I need to look beyond my own heartache and help another."

Her aunt looked doubtful but didn't argue further. "Lord Hilgrove is not one to ask for help, and he may not appreciate your intentions. "

"I know," Edwina replied determinedly. "But I have to at least try."

A heavy silence hung in the air as her aunt grew silent. Finally, she spoke. "Did you know that I was married before your Uncle Lionel?" Her words were tinged with sorrow.

Edwina reared back, surprised by this revelation. "You were?" she asked. "Why haven't you said anything before now?"

"I didn't think it was prudent to do so. It was in my past, and my future is with Lionel," her aunt explained, her eyes growing reflective. "Hugh was the fourth son of a marquess, and thus his chances of inheriting were unlikely. He chose to pursue a career in the Navy instead."

Her aunt's voice softened as she reminisced about her late husband. "He was the most handsome man and he was a wonderful, ardent kisser."

Edwina couldn't help but giggle at her aunt's unexpected remark.

"But he died shortly after we were wed when his ship was attacked," her aunt said, her tone turning somber. "Fortunately for me, my wedding contract specified that my dowry would be returned to me in case of his untimely death. However, my father wasted no time in negotiating a marriage contract between Lionel and me."

The sadness in her aunt's words was palpable. Edwina couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer. "Did you even want to marry Uncle Lionel?"

"Not at first," her aunt replied with a wistful sigh. "Lionel was kind to me but I had loved Hugh with all my heart. That kind of love just doesn't go away. But Lionel was persistent in his affection, and it was almost impossible not to fall in love with him over time. It was unexpected, but not unwanted. There is a difference."

"Why was your father so adamant that you were wed again?" Edwina asked .

Her aunt let out a frustrated huff. "Why, indeed? I suppose he didn't think I was capable of taking care of myself," she said.

"But you had your dowry."

"True, but maintaining a household is expensive," her aunt replied. "And as for my father, he simply could not understand why I wouldn't just move on from Hugh. But I think we both know that grief is not something one can simply move on from. Is it?"

"No, it is not," Edwina agreed, understanding all too well the weight of loss and heartache.

Her aunt leaned forward in her seat, her eyes filled with empathy. "I know Lionel may seem impatient and aloof at times, but that doesn't mean he loves you any less. He is just struggling to cope with his own pain."

Edwina's lips formed a thin line, unconvinced by her aunt's words.

"I don't expect you to believe me immediately, but it is the truth," her aunt insisted. "Lionel may try to deny or ignore it, but the death of his brother has deeply affected him. And he is hurting."

Edwina turned her head towards the window, gazing out at the passing countryside. She remembered when her uncle used to be kind and patient with her, before her father's death had changed everything. "I wish it could go back to the way it was, back when Uncle Lionel used to tolerate me," she said pensively.

Her aunt gave her an understanding nod. "Your uncle does love you, but he is doing a poor job of showing it."

Edwina arched an eyebrow. "He is doing a terrible job."

With a laugh, her aunt conceded, "That is fair."

The scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the open window as they approached the village. Edwina turned her head to take in the picturesque cottages with thatched roofs that lined the road. In the distance, she could hear the faint bleating of sheep grazing in nearby fields.

How she missed traveling to the village with her father. He would make an adventure out of it, just as he always did with everything. He had had a way of turning even the most mundane tasks into something enjoyable.

The coach came to a stop next to the pavement and her aunt remarked, "Bennett mentioned he was taking Lord Hilgrove to the pub for a drink. Since it is close to the ribbon shop, I wonder if he will come shopping with us." Her words were light, playful.

"I doubt it, especially since I do not think Lord Hilgrove cares much about ribbons," Edwina joked.

"No, he does not," her aunt readily agreed.

The coach door opened and Edwina accepted the hand of the footman as she stepped down onto the pavement. She withdrew her hand and smoothed down her black gown as she waited for her aunt to join her.

"Before we begin our shopping, I was hoping we would get a treat from the bakery shop across the street," her aunt said.

"I would never refuse such an offer," Edwina responded as she stepped off the pavement and into the cobblestone street.

As they made their way across the street, the air was filled with the deafening sound of hooves pounding against the uneven stones. Panic seized Edwina's heart as she realized a horse was charging towards them. She stood frozen in fear, unable to move despite seeing her aunt run for safety.

In the next moment, a strong hand grabbed her arm and yanked her out of harm's way, causing her to stumble and fall into the firm embrace of Lord Hilgrove.

Miles held Edwina tight against his chest, her small frame trembling in his embrace. The thundering sound of the horse's hooves faded away. When he had seen the horse barreling down on her, he had felt a fear unlike any he had ever known.

He gazed down at Edwina, taking in the panic and shock etched on her delicate features. He couldn't quite believe how close she had come to serious injury or even death.

Bennett's voice cut through the tense air. "You can release my cousin now," he said firmly, stepping closer to them.

Reluctantly, Miles loosened his grip but remained close enough to feel Edwina's quick breaths against his skin. He searched her eyes for any sign of harm. "Are you all right?" he inquired.

A mixture of emotions flickered across her face before she finally answered with a shaky voice. "Yes… no," she admitted.

"You will be just fine," he encouraged, not knowing what else he could say to provide her with comfort.

Lady Dallington placed her hand on Edwina's arm and gently turned her to face her. The concern was evident on her face as she seemingly searched Edwina's eyes for answers. "You had me so worried," she exclaimed. "What were you thinking, freezing up like that in the middle of the street?"

Edwina's gaze dropped to the ground. "I wasn't," she murmured.

Without hesitation, Lady Dallington pulled Edwina into a tight embrace, relief flooding over her features. "Thank heavens for Lord Hilgrove," she declared. "If he hadn't come to your rescue when he did…" Her voice trailed off. "I don't even want to think about what could have happened."

As Lady Dallington embraced her niece, Miles couldn't help but notice the growing crowd around them as people stopped to gawk and whisper. He knew they needed to move quickly before the situation became even more bothersome.

Fortunately, Bennett must have had the same thought about their circumstances because he suggested, "Perhaps we should depart for the manor."

Lady Dallington released Edwina as she attempted to regain her composure. "You are right," she said. "We should return home at once."

A finely dressed gentleman broke through the crowd, his brow furrowed. "Is everyone all right?" he asked.

"We are," Lady Dallington confirmed.

The man relaxed slightly. "I don't know what spooked my horse, but I am terribly sorry for the distress that it caused."

Bennett's eyes narrowed as he took a commanding step towards the man. "You need to learn to control your horse better. The consequences could have been dire if not for my friend, Lord Hilgrove."

The man nodded, guilt and remorse evident on his expression. "Yes, my lord," he said, lowering his gaze. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," Bennett snapped.

Miles knew that emotions were running high, but it was just an unfortunate accident. He stepped forward and placed a calming hand on Bennett's shoulder. "Let us go collect our horses," he suggested.

Bennett took a few deep breaths, no doubt in an attempt to compose himself before speaking again. "Very well," he growled.

Lady Dallington guided Edwina towards the coach and Bennett, ever the gentleman, hastened to open the door for them. Miles stood back slightly, not quite sure what he should do.

Edwina paused in front of the coach and turned around to face Miles. She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her gaze speaking volumes.

A fluttering feeling stirred in Miles' chest as he held her gaze and he couldn't help but feel drawn to Edwina. Which was rather odd, considering his heart had been irrevocably broken after his wife had died. No, it was impossible. Surely, he must have imagined it. It was nerves; that is all that it was.

The ladies stepped gracefully into the coach and Miles stood on the pavement, watching it drive away. Bennett came to stand next to him, breaking the silence.

"Have I thanked you yet?" Bennett asked.

"There is no need…" Miles started to say.

Bennett turned to face him. "There is," he insisted, speaking over him. "If you hadn't saved Edwina when you did…" His voice cracked and he struggled to hold back his emotions. "I'm sorry. I just shudder at that thought."

"Well, it is over now," Miles reassured him. "Lady Edwina is safe and that is what matters."

"Yes, because of you."

Miles put his hand up, deflecting his friend's praise. "I am just thankful I was there to lend a helping hand."

Bennett grew uncharacteristically solemn. "Thank you for what you did," he said.

"You are welcome," Miles responded. "Can we drop it now?"

A grin slowly spread across Bennett's face. "We should have a parade for you," he joked. "The villagers would love that."

"That seems like a lousy reason to have a parade," Miles remarked dryly.

"I think you are worth it," Bennett said. "The war hero, turned saver of lives."

Miles looked heavenward, feigning exasperation. "You make it almost impossible to like you," he sighed.

Bennett chuckled. "It would be fun. We could have fireworks and a whole theatrical show," he teased.

"Clearly, you do not know how parades work."

"And you do? "

Miles nodded. "I was in a military parade before I left for the Continent."

"Were there fireworks?" Bennett inquired.

With a huff, Miles replied, "A military parade is a serious affair. We are not there to entertain people, but to show off our strength."

Bennett looked unimpressed by his remark. "I would rather watch a bear at a circus," he said. "Or a bear setting off fireworks. Now that would be a sight to behold."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I am entirely sober," Bennett replied. "Why, are you drunk?"

Miles started to walk away from his friend. He'd had enough of this ridiculous conversation and he suspected he had gotten dumber because of it.

Bennett caught up to him and matched his stride. "I see that you are in no mood to joke around," he said. "What if I only said serious things from now on?"

"You can't quite seem to help yourself, can you?"

Bennett smirked. "No, only because I know it goads you."

A man wearing a brown jacket with a matching waistcoat approached them from the opposite direction. As he passed Bennett, he deliberately leaned in and brushed his shoulder, causing Bennett to stumble off balance.

"Watch where you are going," Bennett snapped as he regained his footing.

The man performed an exaggerated bow, his hand resting mockingly on his chest. "My apologies, my lord," he drawled. "I should be more careful around such greatness."

Bennett knitted his brow in confusion. "Do I know you?"

"You should," the man replied, the contempt evident in his voice. "I am one of your tenants, but you don't pay attention to those types of things, do you?"

"I do, but I am still learning the names of our tenants," Bennett said. "What is your name? "

The man scoffed. "Why, so you can evict me?"

"I have no intention of evicting you," Bennett assured him. "I am just trying to understand why you hold such disdain for me."

Stepping forward, the man said, "You think so little of me and the other tenants."

Bennett reared back. "That is wholly and emphatically not true."

"You can deny it all you want, but ever since you and your father came around, nothing has happened," the man declared. "You store your money in your coffers and you let us suffer."

With a frown, Bennett said, "I have no idea what you are referring to."

The man took a step back. "Be warned, my lord, you are nothing without this village and its people. I would remember that," he advised before spinning on his heel and hurrying down the pavement.

Miles gave Bennett a questioning look. "What was that about?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, but I intend to find out," Bennett replied. "I think it would be best if we go speak to Mr. Stanley, my father's man of business. His office is just around the corner here."

Both of them seemed to retreat into their thoughts as they rounded the corner and entered a two-level brick building. Miles trailed behind Bennett to a door on the first level and waited as he rapped his knuckles against it.

"Enter," came a voice from inside the office.

Bennett opened the door and stepped inside, revealing a silver-haired man sitting behind a large desk. The office was spacious, lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with books. A single window provided light and overlooked the garden below.

The man rose from his seat and greeted them with a warm smile. "Lord Dunsby, welcome," he said, motioning them to enter. "Please come in."

Miles recognized that voice. It had been the voice of the man speaking to Lord Dallington earlier in the study.

Bennett gestured towards Miles, providing the introductions. "Mr. Stanley, allow me to introduce you to Lord Hilgrove."

Mr. Stanley bowed respectfully. "My lord." He turned his attention back to Bennett, curiosity evident in his expression. "Now, what do I owe this unexpected pleasure to?"

Bennett's demeanor shifted, becoming more serious. "I just had an interesting conversation on the pavement with one of my tenants."

"May I ask which one?" Mr. Stanley asked.

"I don't know," Bennett replied. "He wouldn't give me his name."

Mr. Stanley gave him a blank stare. "That is rather odd. Did he say as to why that was?"

Bennett shrugged. "He seemed afraid that I was going to evict him."

"For what purpose?" Mr. Stanley inquired.

Bennett leaned closer, placing his hands on the chair's back for support. "He implied that our tenants weren't happy since my father took over the estate."

"That is ludicrous, and not the least bit true," Mr. Stanley declared.

"But why would he even say such a thing?" Bennett pressed.

Mr. Stanley picked up a stack of papers and rifled through them. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he searched for a specific document, finally removing it from the pile and holding it up for Bennett to see. "I think I know what it might be," he shared. "There have been a few families that haven't been paying their fair share and I threatened them with eviction. But that takes time. "

Bennett accepted the paper and his eyes skimmed it. "Is there a particular reason why these families haven't been paying?" he questioned.

"The crops were not as plentiful this year as past years have been, and I'm afraid some of your tenants are struggling to make ends meet," Mr. Stanley said, his tone sympathetic.

Bennett extended the paper back to Mr. Stanley. "Does my father know this?"

"He is aware," Mr. Stanley replied. "But times are tough for everyone, and it isn't fair to pass the burden on to your father."

"I suppose not," Bennett reluctantly admitted. "But rather than evict, what can we do to help them?"

"Help them, my lord?" Mr. Stanley repeated incredulously.

"Perhaps we can buy new machinery to help aid with the crops next season," Bennett proposed. "By doing so, we can continue to collect rent and our tenants can produce more crops."

Mr. Stanley lowered the paper back onto the desk and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I will go speak to your father and see if he is opposed to such an idea."

"Thank you, Mr. Stanley," Bennett said.

"Do not thank me just yet," Mr. Stanley acknowledged. "This is your father's decision, not mine. I can only make suggestions."

"I understand," Bennett said before excusing himself from the office.

Once they were alone in the dimly lit corridor, Miles asked, "Do you feel better?"

"No, but that is only because I don't know what I can do to help these families," Bennett replied, a troubled look in his eyes. "The thought that they are struggling does not sit well with me. But I intend to speak to my father about this at once. "

"You are right to do so," Miles remarked.

Bennett bobbed his head, a determined look in his eyes. "But for now, we should head back to the manor. It is almost time for your nap. I wouldn't want you to miss it," he said playfully.

Miles could tell that his friend was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn't working. Bennett was troubled by what had been discussed with Mr. Stanley.