13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

E velyn closed the ledger with a satisfied snap, her eyes flicking between Julia and Augusta. The girls wore matching expressions of bewilderment, though Augusta's brow was furrowed in concentration.

"Well done, both of you," Evelyn said, her voice warm. "Balancing a household budget is no small feat, but you've made excellent progress."

Julia groaned, flopping dramatically onto the settee. "It's dreadfully dull, Miss Bane. When will we ever need to know such things?"

"More often than you might think," Evelyn replied, a wry smile tugging at her lips. She thought of the countless hours she'd spent poring over the Judge's accounts, carefully concealing his less savoury transactions. "A well-managed household is the foundation of a comfortable life."

Augusta straightened in her chair, grey eyes sharp with interest. "Is it very different from managing an estate's finances, Miss Bane?"

"The principles are similar, though the scale is rather different," Evelyn answered, gathering up the papers. "Now, I believe your father has requested you take your afternoon constitutional."

The girls rose, Julia with considerably more enthusiasm than her sister. As they departed, Evelyn tucked the ledger under her arm and made her way towards the housekeeper's domain.

The corridors of Hastings Manor still felt like a maze to Evelyn, but she was slowly learning her way around. She rounded a corner, only to find herself face-to-face with an unfamiliar tapestry. Frowning, she backtracked, trying to retrace her steps.

After several wrong turns, Evelyn finally found herself in the right wing of the house. She knocked on the housekeeper's door, relief washing over her as Mrs. Thorne's voice bade her enter.

"Ah, Miss Bane," the housekeeper said, looking up from her desk. "I trust the lesson went well?"

Evelyn nodded, handing over the ledger. "The girls are making progress, though I fear Julia finds it less than enthralling."

Mrs. Thorne chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. "That one would rather be outdoors, chasing butterflies or climbing trees. Speaking of which, I believe the Baron mentioned taking them riding this afternoon."

"Yes, he's quite insistent on their physical education," Evelyn replied, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I must admit, I agree with him on that point, even if I'm still adjusting to country life myself."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "It takes time, Miss Bane. You'll find your footing soon enough."

Evelyn chuckled wryly, her mind drifting back to a few days prior. The memory of slipping in the mud, her skirts sodden and heavy, flashed vividly before her eyes. She could almost feel the squelch of wet earth beneath her palms, smell the rich scent of damp soil.

"Find my footing indeed," she muttered, and the housekeeper gave her a knowing look—everyone in the house had seen the muddy footprints and the silty bathwater. "At least I can be grateful the girls didn't witness that particular misadventure," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not sure I could have maintained any semblance of dignity after such a display."

Mrs. Thorne's lips twitched, her eyes glinting with something Evelyn couldn't quite decipher. "I wouldn't be so certain of that, Miss Bane. Just because you didn't see them doesn't mean they didn't see you."

Evelyn blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. "I beg your pardon?"

The housekeeper leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Those twins, Miss Bane, they're professionals when it comes to hiding. They know every nook and cranny of this estate, every hedge and hollow. I'd wager they've seen far more than anyone suspects."

"Good heavens," Evelyn murmured, her mind racing. How many times had she thought herself alone, only to have an audience? She cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure. "Well, I... I appreciate you sharing this information, Mrs. Thorne. It seems I have much to learn about my charges."

The housekeeper nodded, a hint of sympathy in her eyes. "Don't fret, Miss Bane. You'll get the measure of them soon enough."

Evelyn hurried to her room, her mind still reeling from Mrs. Thorne's revelation. She changed into her walking boots, lacing them tightly and smoothing her plain blue day dress. As she made her way to the front door, she steeled herself for whatever the afternoon might bring.

Julia and Augusta were already there, bouncing on their heels with barely contained excitement. Evelyn's heart warmed at their enthusiasm, but it froze when she caught sight of the Baron standing beside them.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bane," he said, his voice gruff.

Evelyn nodded, certain her surprise showed on her face. She'd scarcely seen the man since their muddy encounter, and she'd begun to suspect he was deliberately avoiding her. The thought had brought a mixture of relief and... something else she dared not examine too closely.

"I'll be joining you on your walk today," the Baron announced, his tone brooking no argument.

Evelyn blinked. "That's really not necessary, my lord. I'm quite capable of—"

"I insist," he interrupted, his grey eyes fixed on her. "We can't have you falling down a well or some such nonsense, can we?"

Evelyn stared at him, unsure if he was jesting or not. His face remained impassive, save for a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was that... amusement?

"I assure you, my lord, I have no intention of—"

"Intentions matter little when it comes to accidents, Miss Bane," he said, cutting her off once more. "Shall we?"

He gestured towards the door, and Evelyn was at a loss for words. The girls giggled, clearly delighted by this turn of events, and Evelyn resigned herself to an afternoon of awkward silences and muddy paths.

When she took the girls on her own, they were content to stick to gravel paths and country lanes. Evelyn suspected that the Baron's idea of a walk was very different from her own. As they stepped out into the crisp air, Evelyn couldn't shake the feeling that this walk would be anything but ordinary.

Evelyn watched as Julia and Augusta scampered ahead, their laughter drifting back on the breeze. She envied their carefree spirits, especially as she found herself walking beside the Baron, his presence as imposing as the oak trees lining the path.

"You're dawdling, Miss Bane," the Baron said, his voice gruff. "One would think you've never taken a proper walk before."

Evelyn bit back a sharp retort. "I assure you, my lord, I'm quite capable of keeping pace. Perhaps if you weren't so intent on finding fault with every step I take—"

"Fault?" He arched an eyebrow. "I'm merely observing. Your gait is uneven, and you're not utilising the walking stick properly."

She glanced down at the stick he'd thrust into her hands before they'd left. "I wasn't aware there was a proper way to use a walking stick, my lord."

"Of course there is," he scoffed. "You're holding it all wrong. Here, allow me to demonstrate."

Before Evelyn could protest, the Baron's large hand closed over hers, adjusting her grip on the stick. His touch, though brief, sent an unexpected jolt through her.

"There," he said, stepping back. "Now you won't look like a complete novice."

Evelyn bristled. "I appreciate your concern, my lord, but I assure you I'm quite capable of managing a simple walk without your constant critique."

The Baron's eyes narrowed. "Is that so? Then perhaps you'd care to explain why you're breathing so heavily? We've barely covered a mile."

Evelyn felt heat rise to her cheeks, acutely aware of her quickened pulse. "The air is rather thick today," she said, lifting her chin. "And I'm not accustomed to such... vigorous exercise."

"Clearly," he muttered. "We'll have to remedy that. Can't have you collapsing from exhaustion every time you venture outside the house."

"I have not collapsed once since arriving here," Evelyn protested, her patience wearing thin.

The Baron's lips twitched. "No, but you did take quite a tumble in the mud not long ago. I'd hate for a repeat performance."

Evelyn's steps faltered, her cheeks burning at the memory. "That was... an unfortunate incident. One I don't intend to repeat."

"See that you don't," he said, his tone softening slightly. "The girls have grown quite fond of you. It would be a shame if you were to injure yourself and have to leave."

Evelyn let the Baron's comment pass, but she couldn't help casting a sideways glance at him. His profile was stern, yet there was something almost... protective in his stance. She shook her head, banishing the thought.

As they continued along the path, Evelyn was trying to reconsider her approach. Perhaps she had been too hasty in dismissing his advice. After all, this was his domain, and she was still very much a stranger to country life.

"My lord," she began, her voice softer than before, "I... perhaps I spoke too hastily. I admit, I could use more guidance when it comes to navigating the countryside safely."

The Baron's eyebrows rose, surprise evident in his grey eyes. "Is that so, Miss Bane? I thought you were quite content with your current level of expertise."

Evelyn bit back a retort, forcing herself to remain calm. "The girls have been most helpful, pointing out which plants to avoid and which might cause a rash. But I'm aware there's still much for me to learn."

"Indeed," he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Very well, Miss Bane. If you're willing to learn, I'm willing to teach."

As they walked, the Baron began pointing out various plants and explaining their properties. Evelyn listened intently, surprised by the depth of his knowledge. She found herself genuinely interested, asking questions and absorbing the information.

"This one here," he said, gesturing to a cluster of delicate white flowers, "is meadowsweet. It's quite useful for treating headaches and fevers."

Evelyn leaned closer, careful not to touch. "It's beautiful. I had no idea so many of these plants had medicinal properties."

The Baron nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. "There's much to learn from nature, Miss Bane. It's not all about avoiding dangers."

As they continued their walk, Evelyn was starting to relax as the tension between them became easing. She realised that perhaps there was more to the Baron than she had initially thought.

Evelyn's curiosity got the better of her as they walked along the winding path. She glanced at the sturdy walking stick in her hand, then at the Baron's own.

"My lord, if I may ask, why do you insist on carrying these sticks? Surely they're not necessary for every outing?"

The Baron's lips quirked into what might have been a smile. "Ah, Miss Bane, you'd be surprised at their utility." He turned suddenly, calling out to the girls who were skipping ahead. "Julia! Augusta! Come here a moment. Show Miss Bane how one properly uses a good stick."

The twins' faces lit up with excitement. They darted off into the nearby copse, returning moments later with sticks of their own.

"Watch this, Miss Bane!" Julia cried, bounding ahead.

Evelyn watched, bemused, as the girls demonstrated. Augusta planted her stick firmly on the ground, using it to navigate a particularly rocky stretch of path.

"See?" she explained, her voice steady despite the uneven terrain. "It helps keep your balance when the ground's not cooperating."

Julia, meanwhile, had wandered into a nearby meadow. She poked her stick into the lush grass, prodding here and there with surprising care.

"And this," she called back, "is how you find hidden bogs! You don't want to step in one of those by accident—bogs'll swallow you up faster than a poor man with a bowl of soup!"

Evelyn's eyes widened as she watched Julia's stick sink several inches into what had appeared to be solid ground. "Good heavens," she murmured. "I had no idea."

The Baron nodded approvingly at his daughters. "Well done, girls. You see, Miss Bane? These sticks are far more than mere accessories. They're tools for survival in the countryside."

Evelyn looked at her own stick with newfound respect. "I stand corrected, my lord. It seems I have much to learn about country life."

Evelyn's steps faltered as they rounded a bend in the lane. Ahead, a cluster of woolly bodies blocked their path, their bleating filling the air. She instinctively took a step back, her grip tightening on the walking stick.

"Is something the matter, Miss Bane?" the Baron asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Evelyn swallowed hard, trying to mask her discomfort. "Not at all, my lord. I simply... wasn't expecting to encounter a flock of sheep on our walk."

The Baron's lips twitched. "Ah, yes. Another valuable lesson in country living. These sticks aren't just for walking, you know. They're quite useful for moving along disagreeable animals."

Before Evelyn could respond, the Baron strode forward, gently poking at the nearest sheep with his stick. To her amazement, the animal shuffled aside with little fuss.

"You see?" he called back. "No need for alarm. A firm but gentle touch is all that's required."

Julia and Augusta, who had been watching with barely contained excitement, seized the opportunity. They darted forward, brandishing their sticks like swords.

"Come on, Miss Bane!" Julia cried. "It's ever so much fun!"

Evelyn watched, equal parts horrified and impressed, as the girls fearlessly ran at the sheep. They waved their sticks, urging the animals along with surprising efficiency.

"Hup! Hup!" Augusta called, her usually reserved demeanour forgotten in the excitement of the moment.

The sheep bleated in protest but moved nonetheless, parting like a woolly sea before the twins' determined advance. Evelyn was caught between admiration for their boldness and concern for their safety.

"My lord," she began, her voice tight with worry. "Is it quite safe for them to—"

The Baron cut her off with a chuckle. "They've been doing this since they could walk, Miss Bane. The sheep are more afraid of them than they are of the sheep, I assure you."

As if to prove his point, the last of the flock scurried off the path, leaving it clear for their passage. Julia and Augusta returned, flushed with exertion and triumph.

"Did you see, Miss Bane?" Julia asked, her eyes shining. "That's how it's done in the country!"