Page 17

“If you state plainly on the invitations that this is a surprise house party, you can instruct everyone to direct their replies elsewhere. My father’s farm is less than ten miles away and no trouble at all for me to get to and fetch them for us.

Especially as I am unlikely to be missed by his lordship.

” Avoiding him while being able to visit her family was a double bonus.

“Your father would do that?” Lady Wennington reached for her hand. “It seems like a dreadful imposition.”

“Of course he would—but if you wish for me to ask his permission first, I could do that this afternoon and post the invitations en route. Aylesford is just outside of Maidstone and that is too busy a town for him to know every merchant.”

“Oh, that would be splendid, Miss Travers. Thank you.”

“Didn’t I tell you that this one showed promise, Constance?

” Lady Frinton settled back against her pillows and gestured for her teacup that was well within arm’s reach on her nightstand.

When Lottie dutifully passed it to her, she didn’t get a thank-you.

“If Travers is the intermediary on the guest front, Longbottom can return to London and take care of all the food that needs ordering and my maids can take care of the covert making up of the guest bedchambers nearer the time. Between us all we’ll get it all done and Guy will be none the wiser.

In the meantime, Constance, he must think that it is business as usual so you must do a very public job of organizing a small evening soiree on the day of his actual birthday while lamenting its mediocrity alongside his reluctance to allow you to do the deed properly. ”

“I can absolutely do that!” For the first time since Lottie had entered the bedchamber, Lady Wennington grinned.

“He loathes me nagging him about finding a wife so much, he will purposefully make himself scarce if I am relentless.” Then she giggled, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“This is going to be such fun, isn’t it? ”

Lottie nodded, already enjoying herself immensely at the vexing viscount’s expense.

Lady Frinton, on the other hand, scowled at them both over the rim of her teacup.

“Well? What in God’s name are the pair of you waiting for?

Divine intervention? Pick up some pens this minute and start writing while I reel off the names of every eligible and gloriously single young lady of the ton. ”

It was late afternoon when the Frinton carriage made its way up the lane to the farm.

She could see her menfolk dotted around the fields, all watching the grand conveyance with interest because nothing like it ever visited, but it was her youngest brother, Dan, who saw her first and ran toward her, beaming.

“Well, look at you, Beanstalk!” He eyed the carriage first, taking in the unusual purple paint and gold crest. “All fancy.” He hauled her into a hug and, in case the coachman heard, whispered, “I take it this smart gig belongs to the fire-breathing old dragon you’ve just started working for?”

“Lady Frinton is more hot air than fire—but yes, this is hers.”

Knowing her only too well, he held her out at arm’s length with a scowl. “Did she lend it to you or did you pilfer it?”

“Pilfered, and I kidnapped her coachman.” She pushed him away, laughing. “Of course she lent it to me. I am here at her behest actually so this visit is all aboveboard, thank you very much.”

“What could a viscountess want with the likes of us?”

Over her brother’s shoulder, from all directions, she could see the rest of the family running toward her and knew the window of opportunity to talk to Dan alone was rapidly closing.

“I’ll tell you all that in a minute. First, tell me how dire things are here?

” He was only a year older than her and had always been the brother least likely to be overprotective.

His expression shuttered. “I overreacted in my last letter, Beanstalk. We’ll get by.”

As she had since childhood, she quickly grabbed the hand he had hidden behind his back before he could stop her. Guilt instantly suffused his face when she stared down at his crossed fingers. “I thought as much. Spill everything before Papa gets down here or I’ll break your nose again, liar.”

“He’s planning on selling half the dairy herd to tide us over the winter.”

“But the milk makes money! Especially in the longer term.” A fact her father knew better than anyone so things must be worse than she thought if he had to sacrifice that future income to pay for the months in between. “Surely that’s a last resort?”

Dan shook his head. “The blight in the barley was bad, Beanstalk. Twice as bad as it was in the wheat two years ago, so we’ve lost that field for at least another year to give it a chance to recover.

Not that we’ve got any seed or the money yet to purchase any to plant the damn thing.

But the loss of this year’s crop and now the next is going to hurt.

We’ve been over all the figures and options over and over again and unless a miracle occurs fast, the cows have to go to cover the shortfall. ”

“Don’t let him do it yet as a miracle might happen.

” What sort of miracle when farmers all over the country were going bankrupt in these unbelievably challenging times, she did not know, but she was an eternal optimist. Or perhaps a complete fool for believing something positive would come up when nothing had in years.

Farming had always been hard, but it was getting harder and harder.

Labor costs were sky high, thanks to the better wages in the newly industrialized towns, and the merchants banded together to extort lower and lower prices, which smallholders like her papa had to accept or risk their crops rotting away while they argued with them.

Then there was the competition from foreign grain.

All factors that worked together like a vise to squeeze farmers.

And that was before a devastating disease like persistent blight killed every seed you tried to grow and poisoned your fields in the process.

But she would not focus on that as it was too depressing, so Lottie rummaged in her reticule and pressed some money into his hands.

“Put this in Papa’s money jar after I leave and deny all knowledge of it.

Miss P insisted that Lady Frinton pay me a week in advance, seeing as she goes through staff like most people do bread.

There will be more of this in a few days.

I know it’s not much but it’s something. ”

“I can’t deny that this will come in handy.” Dan quickly pocketed the money as they both knew that her proud and protective father, who was mere yards away now, would rather starve than take it from her. “Don’t let him know that I told you. He knows nothing about the letter I sent.”

“I’ll pretend to stumble upon the truth in my own inimitable way, just like I always do.” She didn’t need to paste on a smile for her father who, being a sentimental man, already had tears in his eyes.

“The prodigal daughter returns!” Arms outstretched, her papa ran the last few feet to get to her and wrap her in a tight embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming home so I could roll out the welcome mat and hire some trumpeters?”

Behind him came Stephen, her eldest brother. “A fanfare? For this long streak of nothing? A whistle will do and that would be pushing it.” But despite his droll welcome, her feet lifted off the floor as he spun her around. “Nobody missed you, baby sister.”

Then the twins, Matthew and Luke, bounded over and took impatient turns to smother her in love before Matty stole her bonnet and Luke ruffled her hair so hard it resembled a bird’s nest by the time he had finished.

“Seeing as we’ve all been working hard and Lottie has been twiddling her thumbs while swanning around in that fancy carriage, who votes that she makes the tea?” Dan’s arm was raised before he finished his question and every other hand shot up, so he frog-marched her toward the house.

Everything within was as it always was. Unchanged since her mother’s day, save a little more clutter, and blissfully homey.

A stew bubbled on the range, courtesy no doubt of Mrs. Parkin, who still came in every morning to take care of the housework while Lottie’s menfolk worked in the fields.

Thanks to Dan’s letter, she knew that their part-time housekeeper was one of only a handful of essential employees that had been kept on now that the farm had to tighten its belt.

Which in turn meant that her brothers and her father had been forced to take on more, and that bothered her.

Especially as her father wasn’t getting any younger and had always worked himself too hard.

The fresh burdens since the barley had failed showed on his face.

His eyes bore more shadows and his shoulders were more slumped.

As if he carried the whole weight of the world on them.

It was clear he wasn’t sleeping well. Stephen, too, looked more troubled than usual despite the steady stream of bantering insults he sent her way as the kettle boiled.

Yet irrespective of all her justified concerns about the state of their health and the depressing Travers finances, it was good to be back in the bosom of her family again.

She hadn’t seen any of them since her last visit home in June.

Two months of distance was hard when they were all as close as they were.

“I can’t say I ever pictured you as a lady’s companion, Lottie.” Her papa always blew on his tea before he took his first sip, no matter what temperature. “What happened with Lord Chadwell? I thought you liked being the governess to his children?”

Dan slanted her a conspiratorial glance that told her he had kept his word and hadn’t told the rest of them the truth about her dismissal.

“Lady Frinton pays better,” he said, compounding the lie.

“That’s right.” She tried to sip her tea as nonchalantly as she could while tucking her hand beneath her skirt so that she could cross her fingers.

A ridiculous thing for a grown woman to still do but, like her brother earlier, it wasn’t so much a habit but a compulsion she could not break.

All the Travers siblings had done it since time immemorial and not doing it was unthinkable.

Although what they thought would happen if they lied without crossed fingers was anyone’s guess, especially when a lie was a lie.

Yet somehow the crossed fingers lessened the crime and made them all feel better about it.

“I am getting almost twice as much working for her as I did with Chadwell so if you—”

“Do not even think it.” Her father’s mouth flattened as he held up a warning hand.

“That money is yours to save for when you are married and that is that. I do not need your misplaced charity. We’re doing grand, aren’t we, boys?

” Four heads wearing varying expressions of convincingness nodded in unison.

“Governesses and lady’s companions don’t marry, Papa.”

For a start, in the usual course of their duties, they never met anyone to marry.

They lived a life of dutiful servitude, unnoticed and unimpressive, and had to make do with living a more than comfortable life instead.

With most of the luxuries afforded to a young lady from the gentry but without all the status or the freedoms of one.

Miss P had taught them to accept that as it truly was a privilege when so many would kill for such security in these difficult times.

Yes, her friend Georgie had broken that mold in marrying her captain—but she was a rare exception to that rule.

The only one out of the countless protégées of Miss Prentice to wed.

“Nonsense,” he said, waving that away like he always did.

“A pretty and clever girl like you will soon get snapped up, mark my words. A fellow would have to be mad not to want to marry my daughter.” Because he knew Lottie would argue some more, he did what he also always did and changed the subject.

“If you’re not tearing your hair out trying to wrangle other peoples’ children, what sort of things does this Lady Frinton have you do with your days? ”

“That’s not an easy question to answer as I’ve only worked for her for two days.

But so far, there hasn’t been a dull moment—which surprises me as I thought it would be a much duller job than that of governess.

I was supposed to be halfway to Scotland by now, except that didn’t happen after Lady Frinton read a letter from her sister.

Before I knew it, we’d turned around and at lightning speed we headed here to Kent.

Her sister lives just outside of Maidstone, less than an hour away.

Hence I could come here to visit. Although it helped that I have been sent here on a covert mission. ”

“Covert?” Her father chuckled as he loaded his pipe with tobacco, the familiar scent filling her nostrils with a thousand memories of days gone by. “That sounds exciting.”

“It is rather.” Plotting shenanigans behind the objectionable Lord Wennington’s back had given her a definite spring in her step. “We’re planning a surprise birthday party for Lady Wennington’s son.”

“Wennington?” Her papa lit the barrel and sucked on the stalk to encourage his pipe to light. “Why do I know that name?”

“He’s the one who organized that farmers’ collective near Rochester last year.

” That came from Stephen. “The one who went head-to-head with the powerful London merchants, refused to back down when they turned the screws, and threatened to burn it all if they didn’t pay a fair price for the crops.

He planned to reimburse all the local farmers himself, so they all made a stand.

He represented fifty farmers, if I recall it correctly, and only half of them were his tenants. It was all over the local papers.”

“Oh, yes.” Her papa sucked on his pipe contentedly. “He won too, didn’t he? Called their bluff and stuck to his guns. He’s a good man, that one. Sticks up for what’s right and puts his money where his mouth is. I wish our local lord of the manor was as decent.”

Decent! That couldn’t possibly be her Lord Wennington.

This paragon of the community they were raving about had to be a cousin of some sort.

Or more likely Stephen had mixed him up with someone else.

Her eldest brother had never been good with names.

“Well, anyway—Lady Wennington needs a safe place to get her guests to send their replies so as not to tip her son off to the surprise. I suggested here! Would that be agreeable to you?”

“Agreeable?” Her father sat forward and grinned. “For a principled man like him, it would be an honor.”