Page 22 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

“But I came willingly,” protested Penelope.

“It took a great deal of planning, you know. Women can’t just up and ride off on a whim as men can.

Besides, I left a letter. By now, they are bewailing ever having had such a daughter and probably hoping I never come home, which suits me perfectly.

I like Ermenbrough.” She looked down the cobbled street.

“It’s quaint. It seems a pleasant place to become a spinster. ”

“Don’t you dare!” Lewis nearly choked at the thought. “I will hire a companion and send you straight home. Mother will not be holding your actions against me as well.”

Penelope folded her arms and opened her mouth to argue, but Lewis cut her off. “Footmen don’t sulk at their masters.”

Penelope dropped her arms to her sides and glared at her brother.

He wasn’t having it. “What do you think will happen to the poor servant whose place you took? He will no doubt be given the sack.”

“Oh, no,” Pen said rather proudly. “I thought it all through very carefully. First, I stole his bag and did a few minimal adjustments to his spare uniform. Footmen are monstrously tall, you know. I had to take in almost a third of the trouser legs! Then I gave him a dose of Father’s gout medicine in a drink.

It’s always been a thorough purgative. When he made for the privy, I tied a string around the latch so that he couldn’t get out again.

I sent a maid for his valise, saying his motions had gotten the better of him and he needed to change his clothes.

Instead, I changed into them and put my own dress and shoes in his bag.

I had a much prettier gown in mind, but your valet was far too vigilant, and I had to make do with what I could.

So, you see, our parents will have the letter which explains everything, and the footman will be cleared of all wrongdoing. Am I not the cleverest of sisters?”

Lewis had to admit, it was a well-hatched plan. But he was never going to give her the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

“Thanks to you, I have no actual footman with me,” he complained. “And how am I to explain your sudden appearance in your lady’s attire?”

Penelope had an easy answer for that, too.

“I will request two rooms for the Bradford party and say that the lady—that is to say, me—has traveled with you—which is true—and that I, the footman, am taking your luggage up. Although,” she said, tilting her head, “come to think of it, I may need help with that. The trunk looks heavy.” Her brief frown evaporated, and she struck a very un-footmanlike pose.

“It won’t be long before Miss Penelope Bradford emerges triumphant in her glory from the room.

And if the naughty footman has then run off to be with a village girl, we can but ask if there is a willing lad a trifle shorter than the usual fare who wishes to earn a few coins for the duration of our stay. ”

“First of all,” said Lewis, “you might want to tuck your hips and straighten up. I have never seen such a deplorable attempt at faking a footman. Secondly, if I let you stay for the wedding, this is to be the end of your mischief. You will act like a lady and arrange no more schemes behind my back. Are we clear?”

“Ugh, you sound just like Philip.”

The words were out before she could stop them, but the way she froze told Lewis she had regretted saying them immediately.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Leave it.” Lewis looked away. “Just make the arrangements for the rooms. I am tired.”

“Lewis.” Penelope put her hands on the edge of the window frame. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I won’t be a bother. I just wanted to share your special day.”

“I know.”

“Will we take the carriage up to Trenton Grange later? Once we’ve hired a temporary footman?”

Lewis turned toward her and found the hope in her eyes that he knew would be there. He cheered up in spite of himself. He, too, had been looking forward to meeting the Kinseys. It would be all the more special for having his incorrigible sister with him.

“I think we will walk,” he said. “I do not want our presence to cause a fuss. But right now, I want to rest. I want to be my best when we meet the rest of Jillian’s family.”

“They’re going to love you,” Penelope said softly.

“Shoo now,” said Lewis, but a tiny smile had returned. “You are a very precocious footman.”

*

It was mid-afternoon when Lewis and Penelope arrived at Trenton Grange, having followed a pretty path through the very meadow Jillian had referred to countless times.

Though Lewis was not the skipping type, he could easily see Jilly being her nymphlike self in these surroundings.

Even in late October, the grass was still a lush green, and the trees, though some had begun to change color, were heavy with foliage.

Lewis imagined that there were many months when the ground was carpeted with wildflowers, including the daisies that Jilly loved to weave into a crown.

The transition to the formal grounds of Trenton Grange was equally stirring.

The landscape was alive with color and fragrance, despite the lateness of the season.

The delicate, tendrilled petals of the Guernsey lily, the mustard shades of chrysanthemum, pale-pink clusters of yarrow, the musky scent of roses, and a profusion of sweet peas pervaded the senses from flowerbeds and wall trellises alike.

Lewis couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast to Oakwoods, which slept moodily through the colder months, doing nothing to draw the eye from the gray tones of the stone-clad house.

But here Mr. Kinsey and his helpers had worked a special kind of magic.

It certainly put one in the state of mind for a wedding.

After admiring the garden and the groundskeeper’s handiwork, Lewis and his sister inquired as to where they might find the home of the Kinseys.

It was not far from the main house and belonged to a cluster of cottages at the edge of the formal grounds.

A low wall led up to the nearest one. As the pair approached, two heads popped up from behind the wall.

“Who are you?” asked the head that seemed to belong to a taller body.

“Do you like hazelnuts?” asked the shorter head. Its owner clambered up onto the wall, perched cross-legged on its broad surface, and held out a rather grubby hand filled with the nuts in question.

“Er, no thank you,” said Lewis. “Is Miss Kinsey home?”

“Who’s asking?” demanded the first head before the lad it belonged to vaulted over the wall and planted himself in the path before them.

“Did the Bradfords send you? She’s getting married tomorrow and no one is going to spoil it for her, so you can just clear off.

” The threat was made so quietly and matter-of-factly that Lewis did not for a moment doubt the lad’s intention to carry it through.

Penelope, on the other hand, apparently found it adorable.

“Oh, Lewis, what a charming little bodyguard!” she cried, her fingers resting on her bosom.

“So, this is where the real gentlemen have been hiding. No wonder I could not find a worthy husband in Munro. They have been in Ermenbrough all along.”

“Oy,” said the lad, taking a step back. “I’m only nine! I ain’t ready to be nobody’s husband.”

Penelope looked about ready to pinch the boy’s cheeks, and he hastily backed away a few more steps.

Lewis extended a hand. “You must be Jack. Jilly has told me all about you. I am Lewis Bradford, soon to be your brother-in-law. And this is Miss Penelope Bradford, my sister, and yours, too, from tomorrow.”

“Cor!” said the smaller boy through a mouthful of hazelnuts. “Our new sister is ever so pretty!” With that, he jumped down from the wall and came to slip his sticky, little hand into Penelope’s. “I’m Timothy,” he said. “But you can call me ‘Timmy’ because we’re going to be family.”

Penelope didn’t seem to mind the gooey fingers wrapped around hers in the least. “Then you shall call me ‘Pen,’ as Lewis does when he is fond of me.” She winked at both boys. “I hope you shall be fond of me.”

For Timmy, this seemed to be a fait accompli .

But Jack was decidedly less sure. He shook Penelope’s hand suspiciously.

If it were going anywhere near his cheeks, he was clearly ready to run.

He reclaimed his hand and stepped back to a safer position.

“Follow me. I’ll take you to Jilly. She’s helping our mum in the kitchen.

Sam is with Da’, but they’ll be home soon for some grub. ”

The little assembly trooped after Jack as he pushed open the door to the cottage. They wiped their feet carefully with some straw placed outside for this very purpose to avoid traipsing mud onto the meticulously clean floor.

The room they entered was a good size, but it needed to be, as it served as sitting room, dining room, and kitchen combined.

Jilly, her hair tucked under a cap, was just turning in their direction and straightening up with a hot bread tin in her dishcloth-protected hands.

Her face, already pink with the heat of the oven, brightened even further at the sight of them.

“Oh!” she cried. “You’re here!” A quick dance followed as she wrapped the hot tin in the rag and placed it upon the table before trying to maneuver her mother away from the stove. “Leave the soup, Mum. You can spare a minute without it burning. Lewis is here! And Miss Bradford!”

Mrs. Kinsey spun ’round, soup ladle raised and dripping, her face creasing into a smile remarkably like Jillian’s.

Her daughter retrieved the ladle from her and dropped it back into the saucepan while Mrs. Kinsey wiped her hands upon her apron.

They both stepped around the table, the mother bobbing a shy and unnecessary curtsey while Jilly flung herself into Lewis’s arms.

“I’ve missed you terribly!”

“And I you,” he murmured into her cap.