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Then Elizabeth understood. She wasn’t to appear to seek out Mrs. Geddy, only to discover her. It was obviously for someone’s protection, but from whom and why? “Isn’t it fortuitous,” she said brightly, “that I’m planning just such a round of calls for tomorrow?”

David’s smile widened into a grin. “Yes, isn’t it? It is a great deal too bad I have to quit the neighborhood tomorrow. I should have liked to be around for this.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in inquiry, and even though neither Thornbridge was inclined to say more, she felt she had discovered allies.

The next morning, a self-satisfied Elizabeth trekked down the well-worn lane to the Home farm.

She had taken the reverend’s suggestions and visited the other farms. She was saddened to discover the tenants there a cringing lot.

She promised herself she’d see that attitude changed.

She hoped she would not find the same feeling at the Home farm.

She glanced up from the ground before her to see its neat buildings in the distance.

No, they would certainly be as different as their farm was from the others.

She had high expectations for this visit, and her steps hastened.

A grizzled man and his younger image came out of the bam. Elizabeth smiled warmly. “Mr. Humphries? I am the Viscountess St. Ryne.”

“My lady,” he said formally, touching his forelock. His son followed his example.

“Oh please, do not stand on such ceremony.” She was perturbed by his aloofness. “I just wished to make myself known to you. Is Mrs. Humphries about?”

The man turned to his son. “Fetch Mother, Gerry.” He instructed him like he was a child of ten rather than a strapping young man of about twenty-plus years.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at his lack of a direct answer, but murmured a polite thank you before attempting to engage him in conversation. “You are to be congratulated; this property is very well maintained.”

“Only as it should be,” was the taciturn response.

“Yes, so one would suppose.”

A cough was her only answer. She would have commented further in hopes of drawing him out if two women hadn’t followed Humphries’s son out of the house.

The eldest and the smallest—a spry, silver-haired woman with snapping brown eyes and the bloom of youth still on her cheeks—quickly brushed past him, muttering admonitions to pick his feet up and stop slouching.

“This be gentry proper, get along with you now and mind your manners,” Elizabeth heard her say in the peevish tone that only the old used in the presence of those they loved. Elizabeth was brought to mind of her own nurse, Hattie, and she knew instantly she would like this woman.

“Milady, we are that much honored.” The woman bobbed a curtsy then grabbed her hand and patted it with her other.

“Reet welcome you are to be sure. Now come along, come along inside and rest yourself, and have a sip of cider maybe? Oh, this be my daughter, Ellie, and that lump who should’a brought you in first off is my son-in-law, Nat.

That’s my grandson, Gerry. Oh my, I almost forgot myself.

I’m Mary, Mary Geddy, and I must say you sure are a pretty sight for these tired old eyes.

But come along.” She turned suddenly to Nat and her grandson.

"You two wash up and come visit awhile, too, and no argle bargle.”

“Oh, please,” Elizabeth finally managed to interject, “I don’t want to interrupt your routine.”

“Now don’t you go frett’n yourself, milady.

A half hour or hour ain’t going to make a ha’porth of difference to the work around here, and we’ve got to see you property welcomed.

” She ushered Elizabeth inside the farmhouse, made her sit in the rocker by the fire, and fussed over the placement of a cushion at her back, before bustling over to the pantry for mugs and sending Gerry for the jugs of cider kept cool in the stream running behind the house.

Mrs. Humphries, a placid, plain-faced woman, came to stand before Elizabeth. “Don’t mind Mama—she was once a housekeeper in a great house, and much given to ruling the roost.”

Elizabeth shot Mrs. Geddy an excited smile. “You were a housekeeper?”

“Aye, and afore that a cook.” She poured some of the cool cider into a mug and handed it to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sent a silent thank you to the Reverend Thornbridge. “Then perhaps you are just the person to advise me."

"Me, milady? Gracious, what would a poor body like me be doing giving a great lady like yourself advice?”

Elizabeth smiled. “You do yourself a disservice. Larchside needs servants. So far, the only candidates I’ve seen have been woefully inexperienced or-or?—”

“Not the type you’d like to see cross the threshold, I’d wager.”

“Mother,” growled Nat Humphries.

Mary Geddy waved her hand dismissingly at her son-in-law and pooh-poohed his unspoken admonition to hold her tongue.

“I was wondering if you would know of persons in the area who would like to enter into service. My case is desperate. Besides chambermaids and footmen, I require a cook and an abigail for myself, or at least some young woman with clever hands whom I could train for such a position.”

Mr. Humphries grunted. “And what would Mr. Tunning say to this?”

Elizabeth’s hackles rose. Everywhere she turned that man seemed to have a stranglehold, and it appeared everyone considered his control should extend to her person as well. She raised an eyebrow in faint hauteur. “My good man, Mr. Tunning is merely an employee. What right has he to say anything?”

“Pay no mind to Nat, here,” Mary assured her. “He and Mr. Tunning never have seen eye-to-eye, and rightly never will. We’re not favorites with your estate agent, milady.”

“I know, and that puzzles me, for yours is the best run and most profitable farm.”

“That’s cuz our Nat here ain’t one to be gulled.”

“Mother, that is enough.”

“No it ain’t, and don’t you try to say how it is.” She turned to the Viscountess. “I say look to your estate books if you want answers. I’d lay odds not all them numbers match the quality of the work being done.”

“Hush your tongue, woman!” roared Mr. Humphries.

Mrs. Humphries looked pained and stood kneading her apron in her hands.

“Mr. Humphries, please. I know something is dreadfully wrong, but if everyone continues to sidestep the issue, I’ll never be able to cure whatever disease it is that plagues Larchside.

I desire help, not avoidance, and I’ll pay well for it.

Mrs. Geddy, could you see your way clear to coming to Larchside as my cook—if not permanently, at least until I can make other arrangements?

If I have to stomach many more of Mrs. Atheridge’s meals, I daresay I shall expire. ”

“That I would believe.” She reached over to pat Elizabeth’s hand. “I should be that delighted to help out, and I’m not afeered like some folks I know,” she said, glaring at her son-in-law.

“Mother,” he said, “you know it is not a matter of fear, it is a question of what good could possibly come of it.”

“Would it help you to know, Mr. Humphries, that Larchside was deeded to me as part of my marriage settlement? While it is true Mr. Tunning handles the accounts, my husband directed Mr. Tunning to come to me in the event of there being any problem in the management of the estate during his absence. So you see,” she said with a smile, “even Mr. Tunning is subject to my authority.”

Elizabeth was pleased with the way she could use her husband's parting words to Tunning to her advantage. She only hoped these good folk did not hear the hollowness in her voice.

“That’s settled then,” Mrs. Geddy said. “And when would you like me to begin, milady?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning it is. I’ll also see if we can’t find your ladyship some better servants.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

The two women exchanged looks of mutual satisfaction, while Mr. Humphries, though not pleased, merely shook his head in resignation.