Page 4 of The Beastly Bluestocking (The Bluestocking Club #7)

The gods must want to punish her, Arabella thought as Michael closed the door as he left. What was happening was enough to turn her to drink if the past few weeks were anything to go by.

How could the arrival of one person have upset her equilibrium so much? She had not seen him since their first brief interview, but she seemed to instinctively know when he was in the house and when he was on the estate.

The blasted man whistled. It was not even a tune she recognised, but it sounded cheerful and happy. She could have instructed him not to be so noisy, but she managed to control herself from issuing the edict, for that would seem as petty as it was.

The interview they just had was enough to have cast him out at least a dozen times. No one had angered her so much for years. The way he spoke to her was an utter disgrace, and she would be telling her uncle exactly what she thought of the calibre of servant that he was inflicting on her.

Servants. He was going to employ more. She shuddered at the thought of needing to come into contact with strangers who had not seen the way she looked. Panic started to well in her chest at the comments they would make behind her back; she would be the butt of their jokes, and it would result in a lack of respect. Just look how Michael had spoken to her. He would never have treated her so poorly if she had been whole and undamaged.

Motivated by the worry about the number of people in her house, she took out a sheet of paper and started to write.

My dear Grace,

Forgive my lack of correspondence, but I am sure you are used to it by now. I do feel guilty for contacting you only when I need help, as I do now.

Grace, my uncle has installed a steward here, and he is putting the land to rights. He has also turned his attention to the house and is going to be hiring more servants and carrying out repairs. I know I only need to say one word to you and you will understand exactly what I am feeling. People.

I ask too much, but could you please come for a visit? I would like to ask you to be the barrier between the newcomers and myself, but I know that would be unfair. If I could ask for your support, I would be eternally grateful. If you can help me to rid myself of the annoying steward too, then I would be in your debt forever.

Your friend always,

Arabella.

She might be being forced into agreeing to things she did not like, but once Grace arrived, she would understand and completely support Arabella. Smiling, Arabella thought Michael would not know what had hit him the moment Grace joined them.

***

“What an utterly pleasant young man and so handsome!” Grace exclaimed within five minutes of being in the house.

Arabella groaned. “Are you funning with me?”

Laughing, Grace embraced her, kissing her on both cheeks, which Arabella always tensed at, but Grace had never changed the way she greeted Arabella. “Not at all, those raven locks and swarthy skin. I do like a man who enjoys the outdoors; none of this pale nonsense for me. And those eyes! Clear blue! Makes an old woman’s heart all a-flutter.”

Not able to withhold her exclamation, Arabella responded immediately. “You are not an old woman!”

“I am five and forty, quite in my dotage, but do not worry, I do not repine over the fact. I still feel as young as I did when I was twenty, although my body disagrees sometimes.” Grace was tall and slender and had never married. Her figure was largely unchanged from her youth, although there was a little thickening around her waist, which came as many aged. Her hair was still brown, but there were slivers of grey peeking through, and her laughter lines were deeply engraved around her eyes. Still a handsome-looking woman, along with intelligence and a loving, nurturing nature, she was a welcome addition to all who knew her.

“I cannot believe you have been charmed by Mr Follett. He has been the bane of my life since he arrived.”

“He seems very efficient. I have asked if he would not mind taking me out on the estate to see what work he has done. You should join us.”

“No, thank you.”

Grace shrugged. “Fine, I will be able to flirt with him without being in competition with you.”

“Don’t.”

“My dear child, I am stating the truth, and I will have none of your usual nonsense, or I will be forced to return home and tell our other Bluestockings that you are feeling very low.”

“You would not be so cruel, for they would all invade if they thought something was amiss.”

“They know and respect that you do not wish to have visitors, but they do not like it. All I need to do is to say that you require a boost of confidence, and you know what would happen,” Grace said with a smile.

“Yes, I do, I would suddenly have many visitors.”

“Would it be so bad? It has been so long since they have seen you, and you are never far from their thoughts.”

“I cannot be who I was.”

“They would not expect that.”

“To be around them would remind me of all that is lost, and I could not bear it.”

“I hope one day you will realise that is not the case, but until then I will not push you further on the subject.”

“Thank you, and in return, I promise I will not continue to wallow in self-pity.”

“That is the spirit. Now, what mischief can we get up to while I am here?”

“Doing away with my steward?”

“That would be a waste of a handsome, charming man. Even if you do not like how he arrived, it must be pleasant to have such a character around.”

“I have only spoken to him twice,” Arabella admitted, a little shamefaced at Grace’s obvious surprise, and more than a little chagrined that she agreed with Grace’s assessment of his looks; she had been struck by how handsome he was from first meeting him. Not that she would ever admit that.

“There are a lot of questions I could ask and a lot of suspicions about your dealings with him, but for now at least, I do not wish to upset my happy mood at seeing you.”

Arabella’s heart sank. She had treated Michael poorly, but she felt so inadequate and embarrassed near him that she reacted badly. Though she could not excuse the way she had greeted him on their first meeting; she had not known him and still she had been rude. Trust Grace to know immediately what she had done.

“I am ashamed to admit that I have not been very magnanimous.”

“Then that will change whilst I am here, for you know I cannot abide bad behaviour, especially to those who are not in a position to fight back as it were.”

“I am not sure I like the sound of that.”

“Nonsense, you will be far happier as a result, and I only give advice when there is the absolute necessity.”

Unfortunately for Arabella, Grace was correct. The advice she gave was usually considered and constructive. That did not mean that she would appreciate her guidance in this instance.

Thankfully, there was no mention of Michael for the rest of the day, just catching up with what was happening in London and the latest news from her friends.

The following morning after breakfast, Grace left Arabella to join Michael on a tour as she had wished to do. Instead of feeling indifferent, Arabella was unsettled and restless until Grace returned.

“You need to let your Mr Follett take you out,” Grace gushed when joining Arabella for luncheon. “The improvements are impressive, and he will be working with the tenants to modernise the way they farm. It will increase their productivity and reduce the level of work they undertake. Some of the houses were in a sorry state, but if the work to rectify whatever is wrong has not started, it is due to commence very soon.”

“I am glad you approve of what he has done.”

“Say that with some feeling.” Grace laughed. “You have got a hard worker, and you should appreciate what he is doing. Your tenants certainly do.”

“He is my uncle’s employee.”

“And because of that, he could be excused for just doing the minimum he needs, but I can assure you that he loves his job and, from the sound of it, works very long hours.”

“I have heard that his work ethic is very good,” Arabella acknowledged. Sullivan had mentioned more than once that Michael often returned to work after eating his supper. It had impressed and surprised her, but she had kept her feelings to herself.

“I thought you would not mind if I invited him to dine with us this evening. I have asked that he tell us about the work he is doing on the house.”

“Grace! How could you do something like that without checking with me first?”

“Do you not think it would be interesting?”

“You can try and bamboozle me with that innocent look, but I know you, Grace, you are up to mischief.”

Grace raised her hands. “Not at all, I am just nosey and want to question your steward.”

“And you could not do that this morning?”

“No, that was all about his work. Now I need to know everything about him.”

“Not the house then?”

“That too.” Grace smiled.

“You are a mischief maker, and I will not be convinced otherwise. I am going to leave you to mull over the fact that you are wasting your time if you are trying to convince me to be friendly towards Mr Follett. He is an employee who should not be joining us.”

“Rules are there to be broken. It makes life far more interesting.”

“Hmm.”

Arabella left the room, panicking at the thought of Michael being with them in the evening. She would reveal so much that she wanted to remain hidden. Sometimes she could not cut her food, depending on what it was. Sullivan always acted discreetly, but Michael would be there, and showing such inability to do a simple task would be mortifying. She could not blame Grace for trying to get her to socialise more, sometimes Arabella longed for that herself, but she was not comfortable with showing her weakness to Michael. Why she felt so discomfited at him seeing her disadvantaged, she did not know, but there it was.

Entering the stables, she smiled at her horse. A ride across the fields would be the perfect antidote to her feelings of discomfort. It was always the cure for her ills. A sudden noise from the stalls caught her attention; she would recognise a call of distress, either human or animal. The sounds filled her nightmares, bringing back the screams of pain she had heard and made on the day that everything had changed. On hearing the cry again, she only paused for a moment before heading towards it.

In the stall nearest the second outer door, a sheep was huddled in the corner, bleating pitifully, not attempting to move.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Arabella said, approaching slowly. It could cause problems for the unborn lamb if she spooked the mother. Taking in the situation, she moved away from the animal, promising to return soon.

On exiting the stables, she called for her butler, who always seemed to be close at hand no matter where she was on her property.

“Sullivan!” she shouted across the yard towards the house, and as if on cue, Sullivan appeared in the kitchen door.

“Yes, Miss Arabella?”

“We have a sheep struggling to give birth in the stables. She does not look as if she has much stamina left. Have you any idea of what to do?”

“I will get help,” Sullivan said, disappearing into the kitchen, returning within moments with Michael.

Of course he would seek out Michael, Arabella thought as the two crossed the courtyard, but now was not the time to falter; the frightened animal was in trouble.

“Where is she?” Michael asked.

“The last stall, she sounds and looks exhausted.”

“The poor thing. Sullivan, I’ll need water and a towel for lamb or lambs; there might be more than one if she is in difficulties.”

Arabella had followed Michael, not thinking about the way she was standing or what he could see. Her whole focus was on helping the distressed animal.

Michael approached the sheep, crouched low, speaking quietly as he crept towards her. The sheep was watching him warily but did not move.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Michael said. “Are you having a bit of trouble and thought you would come for help? That is very clever of you.”

His tone was soothing, and so encouraging that Arabella had to stop herself from staring at him. Focusing her attention on the sheep, she whispered to Michael. “What do you need me to do?”

Michael glanced at her briefly before nodding to the head of the sheep. “If you could comfort her, I will see what her problem is.”

Arabella moved as slowly as Michael had and spoke to the sheep. When she reached her, she sat on the stone floor amidst the straw without hesitation. And stroking the prone sheep, she placed the animal’s head on her lap. “Come now, it will soon be over. Will it?” she asked Michael.

“I hope so. I can feel that there is more than one lamb,” Michael said.

Sullivan arrived with the towels and water. “Here you are.”

“Are there any bubby-pots that could be used? I think she might struggle to feed them both as she’s clearly exhausted,” Michael said.

“I will see what I can find. I am sure there will be something suitable that we can use,” Sullivan said before disappearing.

“See, I told you it was going to be alright,” Arabella soothed. “We are even going to help you after the birth until you gather your strength.”

Michael smiled at her while he worked with the sheep each time she had a contraction. “We?” His tone was teasing.

“Of course. You have pointed out that I already put too much on my servants. I could not with all conscience expect them to feed lambs too.”

“Once I find which farm is missing this lady, I am sure they will have another animal who could act the wet nurse to help ease the pressure on this mother.”

“I am sure you think me flighty and a wastrel for my neglect of the house and land, but I am steadfast and will help with this animal in any way that I can.” Arabella had not known until she uttered the words that she needed him to understand that she was not as poor a person as she must seem.

“I do not know you, so I could not make such a judgement,” Michael said. “Here we go!” The first lamb was helped into the world, Michael rubbing its back until it bleated. At the sound, the ewe looked around, trying to reach her lamb.

“Shh, do not fret; it is coming,” Arabella soothed.

Michael handed the lamb to Arabella, and she placed it near to its mother, who started to lick it. Michael turned his attention back to the ewe and then looked at Arabella. “I think that lamb was blocking the way. The next one is coming very fast.”

As he spoke, the second lamb was born, to be followed by a third. By the time Sullivan returned with two bubby-pots of milk, Michael was covered in all sorts, which had probably ruined his clothes for good, and Arabella, her own clothes dirtied, was cuddling the smallest of the lambs. She immediately reached out for one of the pewter pots.

“I hope it can cope with the teat,” Arabella said.

“I am sure it will give it a good go.”

“This one we will have to raise ourselves and probably the second one. The first one looks a healthy size,” she said as the lamb started to guzzle on the spout, making her laugh at its eagerness. “Easy there, no need to rush. You can have it all.”

Michael picked up the other lamb and started to feed it while the ewe looked after the first. He looked charmingly boyish, filthy and cuddling his tiny bundle. “She did very well for a mother with triplets.”

“She is amazing,” Arabella said. “I wonder who she belongs to?”

“I will find out, but I am thinking you would rather it be in a day or two?”

His words caused her to laugh. “Yes, although after feeding through the night, I might change my mind.”

Michael smiled at her. “There will be no need for night duties; she must be from one of the nearby farms. Would you like me to help you up?”

Arabella was suddenly hit by her situation. She had not been circumspect in regard to her injuries, and he had seen everything. She burned from embarrassment. She nodded mutely. There was no point in pretending that she did not need help, as she was holding onto the lamb and could not use her injured hand for support.

“Please,” she said tersely.

Michael helped her to her feet and smiled at her. “I think your dress will take some cleaning.”

“As will your clothes,” she said stiffly. “Please have them replaced and charge the bill to me.”

“There is no need for that.”

“It was my call for help that you responded to, so you should not suffer as a result. Please excuse me.”

Arabella walked stiffly across the courtyard without noticing the puzzled look aimed at her retreating form.