Page 7 of The Beast of Barendale Manor

The mist hung low to the ground, swirling around their horse’s hooves as Edmund and Jonathan made their way through the lands of his estate.

The heavy thudding of the horse’s footsteps was a comfort to Edmund’s addled mind. He was shocked at how far things had fallen since his recuperation. He had not been aware that the estate had become so tired-looking. The recent harsh winter had caused a lot of problems that were only now becoming evident.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “The Bensons and some of the other tenants would benefit from the first of the repairs. There was significant damage in the recent storms to the roofs of several of the outbuildings in their farm and they have been struggling for some time. I have drawn up a list of those that should be tackled first.”

Edmund’s shoulders were aching. Everything in his life seemed to cause him tension these days. He did not like being seen as the earl who had let his estate turn to rack and ruin.

For so long, he had buried himself in the darkness of his home, never wishing to venture out to face reality. Now that he was beginning to look about him with fresh eyes, he was ashamed to see the state things were in.

“Very good, thank you,” he murmured.

“Everything is manageable,” Jonathan added kindly. “Nothing is beyond repair, my Lord. We will get it all turned about.”

“I should not have neglected it.”

“Do not be so harsh on yourself.”

“Perhaps I should be, Jonathan. Heaven knows I have allowed myself to wallow in grief for long enough.”

“Adelaide—”

“I do not only mean Adelaide. I mean my own grief. Unhappiness with my appearance, unwilling to see anyone in society for fear of them looking at me. The whispers I perceive at every turn. It is all my own doing and perhaps I ought to feel it.”

He trailed off, lost in thought and the horses continued. The sky above their heads was hazy with the faint wintery light and Edmund looked ahead of him at the murky hills beyond.

“I believe if we begin with the larger residences of your tenants—the most troublesome to begin with—things will improve quickly,” Jonathan said, seamlessly returning the topic of discussion to estate matters. “We cannot be seen to be favouring those with larger tracts of land as it will look as though we are prioritising the most profitable. I would propose a compromise, managing some of the repairs on the largest and smallest homes simultaneously. It would be more costly to begin with, but as the work is completed, the bulk will be done ahead of the winter.”

Edmund glanced at his friend. “How long have you been drawing up these plans?”

“Several months, my Lord, I had always hoped that your health would improve and that you would wish to return to the duties of your estate. If the countess is the reason for this marked increase in your attentions, I am most pleased by her presence. You seem a little lighter in spirits.”

Edmund was surprised to hear that. He had been mired in worries and fears of late, but he could not deny it was nice to have Evangeline in his home. Something about her steadiness and quiet elegance made him feel better about himself.

“My focus is on our boundaries and shoring up the fences that had been damaged in the storms. I have a good man in the village by the name of Henderson who I have assigned the work. He is of good stock and reliable. More expensive than others, but I prefer to know the work will be done properly; otherwise, it is just not worth it.”

“Thank you, Brown. I am in your debt.”

The thought of using Evangeline’s money to repair the estate still did not sit well with him. He wished to tell her of his plans. He would prefer that she had a say in what took place. Just as in the east wing, it felt as though having Evangeline’s blessing in what he wanted to do would somehow make the distribution of her dowry more reasonable.

I wish to have a partner again, whatever form that might mean. Perhaps I can dare to hope I have found one in her.

***

The great hall was bustling with activity as Evangeline walked around the room, watching the servants prepare for the ball.

“I would say that we have enough centrepieces, would you agree Lady Viola?” she asked Edmund’s mother, who was walking beside her looking at the guest list.

The lady looked up with an assessing eye and counted the displays. They were large crystal vases that would be placed around the ballroom; she nodded with a warm smile.

“You have quite the eye; I must say, my dear; these centrepieces are exquisite.” She handed Evangeline the guest list. “I have circled a number of people we may not be able to accommodate. It is always difficult to choose those who one cannot invite. We do not wish to slight anyone, but, as Edmund so eloquently put it—we cannot invite the whole county.”

Evangeline looked at the list, and her lips thinned at one of the names that was circled.

“We can strike the Galbraiths off the list immediately; I cannot have Lord Galbraith in a room with my father. Last year, they almost came to blows at a ball. They disagree on everything. If he is not included, he will understand why, and it will not reflect badly on Edmund.” She handed back the list and caught Lady Viola’s eye. “Do you disagree?”

Lady Viola folded the list with a wry smile. “Not in the least. I must say, I…” but she trailed off, and Evangeline stopped, turning to her in concern.

“What is it?”

Lady Viola sighed. “It is not a very kind thing to admit, but I did not have high hopes when Edmund spoke of his arrangement with your father. I believed there must be something amiss when you were famed to be so very accomplished and so beautiful. I could not understand why you were not yet married. I assumed you might be a spoiled woman who did not care for anyone but yourself.” She swallowed awkwardly, taking Evangeline’s hand. “I have never been so happy to be wrong and to be able to pass the title of countess to a woman so worthy. You are a refreshing light after all this time in the darkness.”

Evangeline smiled, impossibly touched by her words, but her smile quickly faded.

She was well aware that something could go wrong at the ball and that they would be under intense scrutiny. She could well imagine why Edmund was so reluctant to hold it. Having been so absent from society for so long, a ball would be the last thing he wanted. Yet Evangeline was determined to make it a success—for her and for him.

Still, as she looked around the room at the bustling activity all about her, she could not help the anxiety that surged through her.

It has to be a success, but what if it is not?

“Lady Viola, would you excuse me for just a moment? I am a little hot. I might take a short walk somewhere cooler.”

“Of course, my dear, are you well?”

“Oh yes, but a bit of fresh air will do me good.”

Evangeline was gratified when the older woman was distracted by something across the room, and she was able to slip out without her offering to join her.

As the door closed behind her on the cobbled stones of the garden, Evangeline took a deep breath and began to walk slowly through the overgrown bushes all about her.

It was very cold outside, colder than she had expected, and she found herself quickly heading back indoors, already shivering violently without a shawl to cover her shoulders.

Finding herself in one of the many darkened corridors in the manor, she began to walk in a direction she had not been before. There were hundreds of portraits on the walls, looming Barstow ancestors looking down at her from all angles. Their eyes were judgmental and cruel, as though she were not welcome.

As she rounded a corner, she came upon a much larger portrait at the end of the corridor. It had once been lit from all sides by cut glass chandeliers, but they were now left unlit, and the painting had a showy quality that made her shiver.

It was undoubtedly of Lady Adelaide Barstow.

She was a striking woman with a beautiful face that looked out of the darkness of the painting like a beacon. Her eyes seemed to follow Evangeline as she approached, and her heart sank as she noted her confidence and grace.

Adelaide looked like the mistress of all she surveyed, effortlessly regal in her dark red dress, her arm swept out to the side on the back of an ornate chair, her posture immaculate.

Evangeline found that her own hand was unconsciously smoothing her dress, trying to ensure there was nothing in her appearance that was out of place. This woman was everything that Edmund had once wanted in the world. In Evangeline’s mind, she had been the perfect countess, and everything she did herself would pale in comparison.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Evangeline jolted in shock at the voice from behind her. Colin Barstow was standing at the other end of the corridor, his voice echoing all around her.

As he came up to her, his gaze was sympathetic, and for some reason, that agitated her. She did not need his sympathy. There was nothing she could do about Edmund’s past; all she could do was shape his future.

Colin’s voice was low and conspiratorial in the quiet hallway. Evangeline was struck by how much she disliked the man. He had been nothing but friendly toward her, but something about his presence unnerved her.

“Adelaide was a wonderful countess,” he said softly. “Remarkable woman. Steady, dependable, and with an inherent grace about everything she did. I remember her laugh used to ring through the halls, often accompanied by Edmund’s, too. They were such a perfect pair.” He was standing with his hands held behind his back, his gaze focused on Adelaide’s face. “She was devoted to him, you know. Utterly devoted.”

Evangeline’s fears were only heightened by his words. She herself could not even attempt to be devoted to Edmund. How could she expect to grow to care for her husband if he never spent more than five minutes in a room with her?

Colin turned with a faint smile, and Evangeline forced herself to return it. She looked back at the portrait, feeling small in its presence. She could never measure up to a woman like that. She was too timid, too quiet. Adelaide sounded as though she had held the world in the palm of her hand before her death—and Edmund’s heart with it.

They stood together in awkward silence for a short time until Colin bowed to her and wandered away.

It was only when he had left her it occurred to Evangeline how very odd it was that he had felt the need to tell her any of it.