Page 28 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

A udrey was very disappointed in herself during the short carriage ride home. Robert rode his horse beside them, and she wondered if her pique had driven even amiable Robert to seek some time away from her.

She was starting a new chapter in her life, and her plan had always been to leave the old one behind. Molly’s illness had made her realize how much she really depended on people. To hear Blythe’s belief that Audrey should not expect so much of herself? It was frustrating and sad and?—

Oh, she didn’t know what. She didn’t want to be so dependent, had thought the freedom of living in her own home would change everything. But that couldn’t happen, could it? Not really—not ever.

And now she was depending on Robert as much as she’d ever depended on Molly, and because his kisses and praises flattered her, she’d thought it was different. But was it?

Yet … she was a woman, and females were powerless in the world—except for Queen Victoria. How could she expect herself to be different, and how could she expect Blythe to be different?

“We’re almost home,” Blythe said softly. “Rose Cottage looks pretty up on the hill.”

Home. And Audrey would do well to remember and be grateful.

“Thank you, Blythe. I want to apologize for snapping at you. You were trying to make me feel better, and I took out all my frustrations on you. My limitations are not your fault.”

“That is kind of you.”

For a moment, Audrey thought Blythe would say more, but she didn’t, and soon Audrey could feel the sway as the carriage rounded the drive.

When the door opened, Blythe said, “Good day, Mr. Sanford.”

Mr. Sanford? Audrey thought. Why hadn’t Francis met them? “Mr. Sanford, is something wrong? Has Molly relapsed?”

Audrey felt herself the center of attention, knowing that Blythe stared at her, and perhaps Mr. Sanford and Robert, too.

“No, ma’am,” Mr. Sanford said in his rumbling voice. “My pardon if I startled ye, but I just spotted a flock of pheasant down near the pond. Lord Knightsbridge had asked about the shootin’ hereabouts, and I thought he’d like to give them a go.”

Audrey felt the tension of the morning drain out of her, leaving her exhausted and a bit embarrassed. “Oh, of course. Robert, you should do that. You are a guest here, after all. And you can tell me how good the hunting conditions are.”

“Our brother might like to know that,” Blythe suggested.

Audrey smiled at her, feeling forgiven.

“Mrs. Blake,” Mr. Sanford said, “why do ye not join his lordship? Both of ye ladies. Molly tells me wife ye haven’t had yer normal stroll. She worries about ye. And she packed a picnic meal.”

Who worries about me—Molly or your wife? Audrey almost said aloud. His invitation was very strange—including the picnic meal. She told herself not to be suspicious—maybe the groundskeeper was simply trying to be more friendly.

“I will give it some thought, Mr. Sanford. Lord Knightsbridge, might I speak to you in private?”

“I’m going to my room to rest before luncheon,” Blythe said. “Shall I take your new bonnet inside?”

“Thank you,” Audrey said, handing over the box.

Robert took her arm and led her away from the carriage, which she could hear jingling as the Collins coachman drove it away.

“Is something wrong?” Robert asked quietly.

“I find it … peculiar that today Mr. Sanford wants me to accompany you shooting, and yesterday, Blythe thought he was following us about the garden. His kindness has always seemed grudging. So this invitation makes me feel that he wants me away from the house.”

“Wait—you thought he was following you?”

“Blythe said he was.”

“He could have been concerned about your progress around the estate. Neither you nor your sister knows the grounds.”

“We would hardly hike in any wooded terrain,” she said dryly.

“I have simply begun to feel that their poor behavior as servants is more of a distraction to hide something else, something important enough to risk being let go, rather than just being directed personally at me. Would you do me the favor of letting him guide you this afternoon?”

“Of course. But if he wants you away from the house, there could be something going on right now.”

“I don’t get that feeling, do you? Or is there something in his expression I can’t see?”

“No. He did allow Miss Collins to leave without looking too worried.”

“Then you go with him, and I’ll discover if something’s going on inside.” She could sense his hesitation. “Robert, I will be fine. I do not fear anyone means me harm.”

“Very well.” He raised his voice. “Sanford? Do you have a gun I can use?”

“Aye, milord.”

“Then go prepare it, and after I escort Mrs. Blake to the house, I will return.”

At the door, she insisted he go back. “I’m fine within, Robert.”

“This isn’t going to take long,” he insisted.

“You’re such a crack shot, you’ll have all our pheasants killed in no time?”

“Audrey—”

“Just go,” she said softly, patting his arm before he released hers.

She felt him kiss her hand.

“Take care,” he warned.

When she was alone in her entrance hall, she stood still, listening. Francis was obviously not there, and she couldn’t hear his sister cleaning in any of the nearby rooms.

And then she heard a child wail from the back of the house.

For just a moment, she stiffened, swept up again in that old grief, that feeling that a part of life had passed her by—the painful part, she reminded herself. She didn’t want this stab of pain anymore.

But the pain receded, and she realized who the child must be—the Sanfords’ grandchild.

Why would Mr. Sanford try to keep her away? It made no sense—unless he wanted his wife free to enjoy the child without having to work, as she would if Audrey were home. Of course, Audrey would allow her some personal time. But maybe they didn’t know that.

Feeling better, she walked toward the rear hall, hand outstretched so she wouldn’t miss the doorway. As she walked quietly, she could hear the murmur of women’s voices, then the fretful child forcefully saying, “No!”

Audrey had to smile. She stepped inside the kitchen, and almost all sound ceased.

“Mrs. Blake, you’ve returned,” Mrs. Sanford said.

The child gave a squeal, as if someone had picked him up.

“I have. I would enjoy meeting your guests.”

“Of course, ma’am. May I introduce my daughter, Louisa Roebuck, and her son, Arthur?”

“How wonderful to meet you,” Audrey said. “I’m glad you were finally able to visit.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” the young woman said in a timid voice. “I didn’t mean to be intrudin’.”

“No intrusion at all. I’d been wondering when I would meet you. How old is your little boy?”

“Two years old, ma’am.”

Two years, Audrey thought, keeping her smile in place. That was how old her own son would have been. Every so often, she would think on the date, and wonder what he would have been doing, had he lived.

The little boy gave another squeal.

“Please, I hope you are not holding him back on my account. Does he want to explore?”

“We’re teachin’ him the dangers of the kitchen,” Mrs. Sanford said. “And he’s not payin’ much attention.”

Audrey laughed. “He sounds like any child. I heard his ‘No!’ from down the hall.” She turned toward where she thought the young woman was sitting.

“I would like to express my condolences on the death of your husband, Louisa. I well understand your grief at his loss.” But did she?

She hadn’t loved Martin. Perhaps this girl knew more about love than Audrey ever would, since she’d never been that close to anyone—and didn’t plan to be, ever.

She heard Robert’s wicked voice in her mind, remembered his touch, and then banished the thought quickly.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Louisa said.

She spoke so softly that even Audrey with her sensitive hearing barely heard it. “Well, I’ll leave you to your visit. Stay as long as you’d like, Louisa.” Now the Sanford family should know they had nothing to fear from her. Maybe things would be better.

“But your luncheon, Mrs. Blake,” the housekeeper began.

“You enjoy your meal together. Just send up a tray for Molly and me to her room. Is Evelyn with her?”

“I’m here, ma’am,” the maid piped up.

Audrey had more than once asked the servants to always tell her who was in the room, but she would let it go, since Louisa was visiting.

“I think Francis was going to check up on her before trimmin’ the lamps,” Evelyn continued.

Francis and Molly seemed to have quite the friendship, Audrey thought, amused. She left the kitchen and ascended to the servants’ quarters. She heard laughter, Francis’s in the corridor, as if he stood in the doorway of Molly’s room.

“Mornin’, Mrs. Blake,” he said cautiously.

“I think it might be almost afternoon, Francis,” Audrey said cheerfully. “How is Molly doing?”

“I’m well!” Molly called. “Too well to be trapped up here.”

“The doctor will be the judge. Francis, your mother will be preparing a luncheon tray for Molly and myself. Please bring it up when it’s ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She heard his big boots clomping down the stairs.

“So how was your expedition?” Molly asked.

Audrey briefly told her about buying a bonnet with Blythe, and a future invitation to tea.

“A success then!” Molly said with satisfaction in her voice. “I’m not surprised.”

“But then I arrived home.” She explained about Mr. Sanford’s peculiar behavior and finding the Sanford grandchild. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “It was as if they didn’t want me to meet their daughter.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Molly insisted. “Although come to think of it, Francis hasn’t mentioned her at all.”

Audrey bit her lip, trying to hide a smile.

“Now don’t give me that look,” Molly said. “He’s a nice, friendly man who makes the hours up here not so dreary with his brief visits.”