Chapter Sixteen

J owan and Bran had a morning of paperwork but finished everything essential by noon. Tammie and Evangeline arranged for the cook to fill a basket with foods that could be easily eaten under a tree somewhere, and the two men took it in turns to carry the basket.

They went to the steward's cottage first. It was in the grounds of Inneford House and on the banks of the river that gave the house its name, and right beside the bridge that had taken the place of the ford that used to give access to the village on the other bank. The walk from the main house took five minutes, and its upper floors could be seen through the trees.

Built, like most of the local houses, from granite with a slate roof, it had been part of the estate for two hundred years but had been empty for the past twenty, since Sir Carlyon decided to be his own steward. When Bran picked up the steward's role, he had continued living in the main house, so the only work done on the cottage had been essential maintenance to stop it from crumbling.

Evangeline and Tammie could both envision it as it could be, going from room to room, full of ideas about changes that could be made and furnishings that would bring the place to life.

"I suppose it is our part, while they talk about curtains and carpets, to notice the patched roof that needs to be completely replaced, the window frames with a touch of dry rot, and the floor boards and stair boards that need to be nailed down," Bran commented, dryly, to Jowan.

Evangeline heard. "Yes, that is not my area of expertise, Bran. But I do have some opinions about improvements to the kitchen and scullery. Also, once we've seen the attics, can you show me where the cottage gets its water?"

Tammie had some of the same questions when it came to her cottage. It had been lived in more recently and needed fewer urgent repairs, but neither had any money been spent to update either utilities such as coal ranges or furniture and decoration.

It was furnished with a chaotic mix of hand-me-down furniture, old and not-so-old, finely wrought and rough, in different styles, woods, and colors. Some of it, Tammie remembered from the housekeeper's rooms at Inneford. The paintings now missing from those rooms hung here, not so much adorning the walls as haunting them.

The apple orchard that had given the cottage its name had not had any pruning or feeding in years, and the whole garden was overgrown, though Tammie could see a few roses and other summer flowers splashing color here and there against the tangle of weeds and brambles.

It would take work. Still, Tammie thought she could be happy here. She could imagine herself on a winter's evening, with a roaring fire in the grate of the parlor, which was a decent size, so a piano in the corner should be far enough away from the heat not to dry out too rapidly.

Could she afford a piano? She needed to talk to Jowan about going to Plymouth to sell her jewelry. Quite apart from the piano and some gowns suitable for winter, she should be responsible for the repairs and upgrades on the cottage that she owned.

She would not raise it now. Looking at the cottages was making Jowan unhappy. Perhaps he was worrying about Tammie again, or perhaps he was not looking forward to Bran leaving him.

They walked back to Inneford House, Bran, and Evangeline absorbed in a conversation about the changes they'd like to make to the steward's cottage, which left Tammie to walk with Jowan. He was silent, and she was reluctant to disturb his mood. No. She had learned caution with Guy, but this was Jowan, and she trusted him not to lose his temper, even if he did not want to talk about what was bothering him.

Whatever they might be to one another now and in the future, they were friends, and friends looked out for one another.

"What is troubling you, Jowan?" she asked.

"Do you think they are wise?" he asked, nodding at the couple ahead of him. "They have known one another…what? For three weeks? Four? And they plan to be wed within another three. What do we know of Evangeline, after all?"

"That I owe her my life?" Tammie pointed out. "It has been an intense four weeks. Are you afraid for your brother? I do not think you need to be, but who can really know what another person is like? They are adults, Jowan, and will make their own decisions."

She hesitated to raise their own relationship but reminded herself again that this was Jowan, her friend. "I would wish to go more slowly. I do wish to go slowly. You have been giving me time, I think. Is that true?" She peered up at him, trying to see his reaction.

Jowan met her gaze, the heat she had sometimes detected burning in his eyes. "My wishes have not changed, if that is what you are asking. I am willing to wait until you trust me, Tamsyn. I still want forever with you, once you are ready."

"It is not that I do not trust you," Tamsyn corrected, "but I do not trust myself. I find that I hardly know myself, Jowan. Can you understand that?"

"I think you are calling me a hypocrite, Tammie. Wanting to rush into the romance that you and I were denied all those years ago and crying caution to Bran and Evangeline."

Tammie's heart leaped at the confirmation that Jowan still wanted her, but she kept her voice level. "I think we each know our own motivations and can only guess at those of others. Our friends will marry, I think, whatever we think or say. And so, I will support them, and hope for the best."

"It was going to happen sooner rather than later," Jowan acknowledged. "Better now than in a rush to beat the stork. I wish everyone didn't feel the need to leave Inneford House, though."

"If it helps," Tammie said, "you have an open invitation to take your dinner at Apple Cottage."

It helped her. Even if she could find a suitable companion, she foresaw some lonely evenings.

Time for a change of topic. "I will need to convert my jewelry into money. Is there a suitable jeweler in Plymouth?"

"I would think so," Jowan said. He called out to Bran. "Bran, Tammie wants to go into Plymouth to see a jeweler, and you and I need to make a push at finding Mrs. Mayhew." To Tammie and Evangeline, he added, "we are trying to track down some papers that our father's London solicitor had. He died at about the same time as our father, and we recently found out his effects were sent to a cousin in Plymouth. We know she is a widow named Mayhew. But we don't have a current address."

"She might have married again and have another name, or she might have moved away from Plymouth, but I suppose we need to try," Bran commented.

"I would not mind visiting a fabric merchant," said Evangeline. "Mrs. Penrose says that the dressmaker in the village is quite good, but I will need to buy fabrics and notions if I am to have a new gown made up. I thought of going to Launceston, but I imagine Plymouth will have a better range of choices."

"Perhaps you should do both," Tammie declared. "You need a new gown to be married in. You also need several new gowns, in brighter colors than you currently wear. As Mrs. Hughes, wife of the steward and sister-in-law to Trethewey himself, you will need to look prosperous."

Evangeline started to chuckle, then looked at Bran for reassurance. "She is joking," she said.

Bran shrugged. "Dress however you like, Evie. You always look lovely."

"Jowan?" Evangeline asked.

"Tammie is not wrong," Jowan offered, cautiously. "Men are judged by the appearance of their ladies. If you look like a lady of the prosperous gentry, that will reflect well on Bran. And on me, too."

"Mostly by the women," Tammie clarified. "They are the ones doing the judging, I mean."

"Right. A new dress, then. I will if you will, Tammie."

Tammie nodded. "I will need a few new things. I will have to see how much the jewelry fetches. I want to buy a piano for the cottage."

"You can continue using mine," Jowan assured her. "Nobody else is doing so. I can have it moved to the cottage if you wish. After all, I did buy it with you in mind." He lowered his voice and leaned closer. "And if we do end up together once you've had the time to fully recover, we won't need two pianos."

*

The following morning, Jowan received three pieces of mail. There was a report from Wakefield and Wakefield and a letter from Drew Winderfield. The third letter proved to be a note from the mail receiving office in Launceston reporting that a letter from Plymouth awaited him and would need to be paid for.

"Shall we take the carriage and the ladies into Launceston, pick up the mail, and do some shopping?" Bran suggested when Jowan read out the note.

Jowan hesitated, but the report from Wakefield and Wakefield set his mind at ease. "Coombe has left London," he said. "He is believed to be heading for France. Wakefield says he has annoyed several powerful people, including the king, who was upset when certain dukes mentioned that Coombe has been terrorizing Miss Lind and had attempted to corrupt the second son of a powerful duke. His Majesty gave Coombe the cut direct and Coombe must have decided discretion was called for."

He handed the report to Tammie to read and opened the letter from Drew.

"Drew has much the same news." This letter he passed to Bran, thinking the details of the type of corruption that young Lord David Versey had confessed to his father was not a topic for a breakfast table or for two ladies.

"Let's get ready for a day's outing. One of the inns in Launceston has a sort of tearoom. We could have lunch there if you wish."

"You realize that Tammie experienced the kinds of practices that had Coombe kicked out of England," Bran pointed out to him as they waited by the carriage for the ladies.

Jowan shuddered. "Not something I want to dwell on too hard," he responded. "The things she has been through horrify me!" He braced himself for another attempt by his brother to persuade him that Tammie was the wrong wife for him.

"She is a strong woman," Bran commented. "The better I get to know her, the more impressed I am."

Jowan waited for the "but". After a moment's silence, he said, "That's it? You are not going to try to tell me not to rush into anything?"

Bran shrugged. "First, Tammie is doing a good enough job of that herself. Second…" He pointed to Jowan and then to himself. "Pot. Kettle."

Fair. "She says she needs time to find out who she is, whatever that means."

"It means she has been out of her mind for the past five years, is what it means. This must all be very strange for her. When you think about it, she was a child, and then she was Coombe's… whatever. She is an adult woman who has never been allowed to be an adult."

Bran was right. When Jowan looked at it like that, Tammie's insistence on living in her own cottage made sense. "I'd find it easier to let her go if I knew she would come back to me in the end," he admitted.

"She will," was Bran's unexpected answer. "Trust the connection between you, Jowan. It is obvious to everyone else. Which is another good reason for her to move to her own cottage, if she is not going to marry you straightaway. People around here are inclined to be proud of her stage career, but there are a few ready to say like mother, like daughter."

"Who?" Jowan asked, his fists already clenched in preparation.

"I've only been told by people who claim not to believe the stories and who won't say who is passing them around. You know how gossip is. Best not to take any notice of it except to make sure that nothing you do gives it credence."

The ladies exited the house, then, and their moment of privacy was over. Jowan supposed he was going to have to give in on the cottage. Coombe had been his last argument with any chance of success and the man was gone. At least until the king forgave him.

Jowan smiled at Tammie as he handed her up into the carriage. He could wait until she was ready. He had waited seven years, and a few more months would not hurt him. Or, at least, not hurt him mortally.

*

They split up in Launceston, Tammie, and Evangeline heading for the drapery and the men to collect the mail and to run a few errands that took them to, among other places, the saddlery, the wheelwright, and the blacksmith.

When Jowan and Bran met the ladies for lunch, they were able to report they had several large packages to be collected but were finished with their shopping.

"We have, too," Jowan said. "We managed to get most of the items on our list. The letter was a surprise. It was addressed to my father and signed Patricia Mayhew ."

"The solicitor's cousin," Tammie exclaimed. "The one you were going to hunt for in Plymouth."

Jowan nodded, looking delighted at this turn of events. "As it happens, she has not changed her name," he said, "so we probably would have been able to find her. It is good to be saved the hunt, though." The news got better.

"She asks if my father wants papers with his name and address that have been discovered in records kept by Timothy Trantor, Solicitor, of London."

Tammie exclaimed, "How fortunate. You do, of course. Oh, Jowan. I hope that those papers will help you recover your money!"

"I do, too," Jowan said, fervently. "She said she wrote twice when the records were first sent to her after her cousin died, but received no reply. That must have been while Bran and I were still away at Oxford and my father was making a muck of things."

Bran took up the tale. "Mrs. Mayhew is moving and cannot keep anything that remains of her cousin's files. So, she thought she would make one more attempt. Jowan is going to let her know we are visiting Plymouth in a week and will call on her in Plymouth to retrieve the papers."