Page 20 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

R obert drove the little curricle, hood down, and the autumn sun shone down on them. Audrey wore a bonnet to shield her face, but he was glad to see color return to her pale cheeks.

“So what does it look like?” she asked with quiet excitement. “This estate of mine?”

He grinned. “Very well-maintained and picturesque.”

“You mean quaint and countrified compared to your noble castle,” she said dryly.

“Now don’t say that. I own a manor, too.”

“ A manor?”

“Very well, I own several, some of which are in Scotland, and I haven’t seen them.”

She winced. “My, how above it all you are.”

“That is unfair,” he said mildly. “I did leave England at the age of twenty-one. Before I was twenty, I was at the mercy of my father’s schedule. He believed in delegating only when he absolutely had to.”

“I imagine people think I should be doing the same,” she mused. “I do have a land agent.”

“And you’re letting him complete his duties. You’re simply overseeing him.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Not exactly. My steward and lawyers have been overseeing the various land agents of all of my properties. To be honest, I don’t even know how many I have.

That is what I’m home to rectify,” he added.

“In India, it was too difficult to make day-to-day decisions when the mail roundtrip takes at least twelve weeks.”

“Your steward must be happy you’re home.”

“I’m not so certain of that. Remember I told you my father needed to be in control at all times? And I showed those tendencies before I left. I imagine all my servants and men of business are waiting to see what I’ll do now that I’m home.”

“We’re in the same situation, you know.”

“It’s good to have someone who understands how awkward all of this is.”

She smiled and lifted her face to the sun again.

“If I’m taking Molly’s place,” he said, “am I supposed to tell you you’ll develop freckles doing that?”

She gave a little groan. “No, never that. I already have freckles, and they’re not from the sun. They’re?—”

She broke off, and he saw her face go all blotchy red before she turned away.

“You’re going to leave me like that? Where are the freckles?”

She lifted her chin. “None of your business. A gentleman wouldn’t ask.”

“I’m a soldier. We’re a crude lot.”

She ignored him, and he shook his head, smiling. She was far too easy to tease. Several peaceful minutes passed, where they listened to the birds, and he pointed out natural landmarks, a winding stream, a copse of trees sheltering a fox.

At last, she asked, “Robert … do you think my tenants want to meet me? Am I making a mistake?”

He put his free hand on hers. “Not at all. This is a small estate, and you’ll all be living near one another. I believe it’s good for people to know they can come to you with questions. That’s one thing the army taught me, to take care of the men below me, to understand my responsibilities.”

“But I thought your father steeped you in your responsibilities whenever you weren’t in school?”

“But not the same way. I don’t think employees and tenants were real people to Father. They were chess pieces to be manipulated, like he was a god. One can make bad decisions when one doesn’t consider how the people themselves will be affected.”

And he’d been heading down that path, too.

Investing had been a game to him, a new way to liven up what he thought was a boring life.

Before he was even twenty-one, he’d been bored by gambling and much of Society, since he hadn’t been planning to marry right away.

There were women, of course, but not the kind of women who cared about him and wanted to be cared for in return.

“Ah, I think we’re approaching the first cottage,” he said, relieved to put the memories behind him.

“What does it look like?” she asked.

He could hear the trepidation in her voice. Cottagers often had terrible conditions in which to raise their children. But these were decent. “Thatched-roof, brick walls, and it looks as if they have at least three or four rooms inside.”

She let her breath out slowly. “Oh, that’s a relief.”

“I can see a little kitchen garden behind, flowers growing in front.”

“Even better.”

“There’s a goat tethered in the back.”

She laughed. “And I hear chickens in the yard.”

He jumped down, then reached up for her. She held on to the back of the bench, searching with her foot for the step down.

“Lean out to me. I’ll catch you.”

She frowned. “If you’ll just guide my foot?—”

“You don’t trust me? Your own fiancé?”

She tilted her head toward the cottage, and he knew she was wondering who was observing them.

“There’s a little boy standing in the open doorway, thumb in his mouth. He’s watching us quite solemnly.”

She scrunched up her nose, and he laughed aloud.

With no warning, she leaned out from the curricle. He caught her waist in both hands, holding her suspended for an extra moment, so he could stare up at her face against the bright, cloud-dotted sky.

What was he doing?

Easing her down onto her feet, he resisted the urge to hold her close.

She wasn’t his fiancée, much as they were pretending it for the world.

She was a woman who’d been badly hurt—who never wanted to marry again.

And he was a man who didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know if he could ease back into his old life without easing back into old ways.

Keeping his voice low, Robert said, “A woman just came through the door, wiping her hands with a towel. She’s waiting near her son, hand on his shoulder, watching us as solemnly as he is.”

“We’ve probably frightened her. Take me to her, please. Don’t forget one of the baskets.”

She’d put several on the bench where a groom usually sat, a gift for each family, she’d explained: breads, tarts, jams, and meat pies from the kitchen at Rose Cottage.

He’d seen Mrs. Sanford’s face when she’d been told what Audrey wanted—her expression had gone from pleasure to such a look of pain, he’d wanted to demand the truth of what was going on.

But he’d bowed to Audrey’s wishes and kept his mouth shut.

Now he guided her through the little gate and past the late-blooming flowers, just as the woman stepped forward, putting her son behind her protectively. Robert didn’t tell Audrey that. “She’s straight ahead of us,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” Audrey said cheerfully, facing in the right direction. “Are you Mrs. Telford?”

“Aye, ma’am,” she said, her expression wary and resigned all at the same time. Her hands were reddened from hard work, and her dark hair was caught beneath a plain cap.

“I’m Mrs. Blake, the widow of Martin Blake, and now the owner of Rose Cottage. I wanted to introduce myself, since I’m now in residence for good. I’ve brought you a gift.”

She held the basket out before her. The little boy darted around his mother and came forward, eyes alight with interest, reaching for the basket. But of course, Audrey didn’t see him and didn’t lower it to his level.

Mrs. Telford glanced sharply at Robert, the question in her eyes. He nodded, and a look of pity briefly overcame her wariness.

“I can’t reach it!” the boy cried.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Audrey lowered it to him, smiling when he pulled it from her hands. “What’s your name?”

“Billy.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Billy. Now show this to your mother,” she urged. “You’ll want to share with your whole family.”

“’Tis very kind of you, Mrs. Blake,” the other woman said.

“Your family’s hard work is in those breads, Mrs. Telford, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. And please allow me to introduce the Earl of Knightsbridge, our distant neighbor.”

He bowed but couldn’t miss the way Mrs. Telford’s expression turned to awe, and her shoulders, at first so straight with pride, now stooped forward as she tried to curtsy awkwardly.

It reminded him too much of the way his father expected people to treat him—the way Robert had once assumed even his business partners should behave.

She pulled the little boy to her side so quickly, he dropped the basket, and a jar of jam rolled out. Robert went down on one knee to retrieve the jam and put it into the basket. Smiling, he handed it back to her and finally won a tentative, disbelieving smile in return.

“Is your husband at home?” Audrey asked, unaware that anything had happened.

“No, ma’am. He’s buying supplies in Hedgerley.”

“Then please tell him that anytime he has questions, he can always come to me. I know you’ve been dealing with Mr. Drayton, but I’m available, as well.”

Suddenly, the little boy’s voice piped up. “Mummy, the lady doesn’t look at us.”

Mrs. Telford shot a horrified glance at Robert, but it was Audrey who dropped to one knee this time, at the boy’s eye level.

“I can’t look at you because I’m blind, Billy.”

He gaped at her. “You can’t see at all?”

“No, not since I was seven years old.”

“I’m six.”

“You’re very smart for your age,” she answered.

Watching her, Billy stepped sideways, and although she certainly heard him, Audrey didn’t turn her head.

“I’m right here!” Billy called, as if delighted in a new game.

“Billy!” his mother scolded. “That is teasing the nice lady.”

Audrey straightened. “I don’t mind, Mrs. Telford. Children have questions. I’d rather they ask me than treat me like I’ll break.”

“Thank you, ma’am. And the treats look real good.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll give Mrs. Sanford your compliments. And please offer my regards to your husband.”

Mrs. Telford sank into a better curtsy this time.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Robert said.

She blushed and managed her first smile.

Once he’d helped Audrey back into the curricle, and they were on the road again, she grinned up at him.

“That went well, didn’t it?” she asked.

“It most certainly did. You won them over with your charm and sincerity.”

“She didn’t take my blindness too poorly, but what else would she have done with the Earl of Knightsbridge standing guard over me?”

“You inflate the effect of my presence.”