Page 5 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)

Chapter Three

P hoebe walked up the property line of her new leased cottage.

It was so much more than she’d ever imagined for herself.

Her skirts swished about her ankles, brushing through the lavender at her feet.

The path was seldom used it seemed. But the fence was new and the grounds well cared for.

The fog from the morning had cleared and she could see all the way down the fence-line.

A tall large branched tree stood majestically overlooking the rolling hills in every direction and so she moved toward it.

The closer she came, the stronger her desire to actually climb it.

She laughed to herself. “I haven’t climbed since I was a little girl.

” But as she rounded closer, the trunk’s size impressed her and she ran her fingers long the bark as she circled it.

On the opposite side, to her delight, a wide plank hung from the lowest branch.

With a smile, she settled herself onto the swing.

She might not be able to climb such a giant tree, but she could swing.

The wood was weathered and soft, the rope smooth.

She sat down and kicked off the ground with her slippers.

Life here at Lavender Cottage might be very sweet indeed.

Her friend, Lillian had yet to come over. She’d sent gifts, baskets, food, books, notes, but she was late in her pregnancy and unable to leave her room oft times.

Phoebe was on her way to the great house across the ridge to see her friend.

She’d put it off as long as possible, honestly, mostly out of an unreasonable fear.

She’d not been with other women, anyone really, for such a long time she was nervous.

And this relationship was of utmost importance if she wanted to stay living at the cottage.

She shook her head, telling her thoughts to stop. She had nothing to worry about. Lillian had said numerous times that Phoebe could stay as long as she needed.

Phoebe just hoped the rest of her life as a time frame was acceptable. Because she wasn’t going anywhere, ever again.

When she felt good and ready to keep moving, she slipped off the swing and made her way down the path.

The sounds of a carriage and horses coming over the ridge behind her brought her round the back of the tree.

Old habits of hiding would not leave soon.

The carriage looked fine enough, if a bit older.

She’d not seen it before. Not many traversed this particular road.

To her amazement, it stopped in front of her home.

With breath coming faster and her throat suddenly thick with worry, she peered around the trunk to see who might step out of the vehicle.

All her breath exited slowly and relief flooded to her fingers as a tall thin man with angular features climbed out. He clasped in his arms a stack of papers and carried a satchel. Her steward, Mr. Crane. She stepped out from around the tree and waved her arms.

He didn’t see her right away, but stepped up onto the porch.

She picked up her feet, running in his direction. When she was near enough, she called out, “Mr. Crane! Hello.”

He leaned out over the porch and nodded his head.

Breathing fast, she approached at last. “It’s good to see you, sir. ”

He nodded. “Thank you. I’m pleased to see you well and so finely situated.” He indicated her home and surroundings.

“Yes, I have a dear friend.”

“Everyone needs those.” He cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

“Oh yes, please, do come in.” She tugged the key from her pocket and opened the door for them to enter.

“I think we can make ourselves comfortable at this table here?” She led him to a side parlor that she imagined she might one day use as a library or study of sorts.

It had a large window and an excellent view of the large tree and fields behind.

“Would you care for some tea?”

He nodded. “Yes, please, if it’s not trouble.”

She did not have servants. And hadn’t missed them until this moment, but she’d heated water earlier and had a few things in the pantry which she quickly collected, rewarming the water.

Soon, the kettle was whistling and the tea was ready. She came back out with a tray. “I do apologize for the delay. I find I’m without a servant at the moment.”

He nodded. “I have good news for you then.”

“Do you?” She smiled. He was the oddest man. His delivery of good news looked the same on his countenance as a delivery of any other kind of news. Did he adjust his expressions for any particular emotion she wondered?

She would love to hear good news no matter how he delivered it. “And how do you like your tea?”

“No sugar, no milk, as strong as you can make it.”

She nodded. His tea preferences reaffirmed his oddities further.

But soon they were both sipping comfortably and taking part in her rather delicious tarts and sandwiches.

At last, he dabbed his mouth with a bit of handkerchief and reached for his satchel. “Now then, we have much to discuss. So perhaps we should begin?”

“Yes, thank you.” She wished again for a servant to send word on to Lillian of her later than expected arrival.

“I have the news of your husband’s estate, the title, and papers for you to sign, accepting your inheritance.”

“My…inheritance?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“I was only aware of a stipend, an increase in my pin money?”

He shook his head. “It seems, the late Lord Smalling has left it all to you.”

She choked on her next sip. “He…he did?”

“Yes, with a letter, many letters, to be placed in your hands. I’m afraid the security and secrecy surrounding this whole affair has been quite specific.

And I have adhered to his instructions precisely.

He asked that I not change anything about your status until you have read all his letters and understand the situation. ”

“The...situation?” Everything was more and more cryptic, so mysterious. Lord Smalling had left her something? Had taken care of her? Her hands shook with the realization.

“I…I don’t know what to say. Where shall we begin? I’m afraid you might need to walk me through all of this.”

“That is what I’m here for, my lady.” She lifted the first of many parchments. “This will require your signature. It is the acceptance of your estate and all the many holdings, the funds, the tenants, all of it.”

She sucked in a breath. “Did he have many holdings? I know only the small home where I lived in the north.”

“Yes, he has a large estate, Rosemont Hall, a townhome in London, and a smallish kind of cottage by the seaside in Brighton, among others. ”

She could not account for any of it, could not understand it. Why had they never used any of those properties? Why could she not have been sent to the cottage in Brighton for example?

“And of course, the property you are familiar with in the north.”

She shook her head. “I am quite baffled.”

“Perhaps the letters will be more illuminating than I am permitted to be.”

“Please tell me what you can first and then I will read the letters of course.” The thought of further communication with a man who treated her so abominably, with so much neglect, brought back a semblance of the fear and stress she was trying to leave behind.

She breathed deeply two times before nodding toward Mr. Crane, “Let’s begin. ”

The first paper indicated her acceptance of the inheritance. She hesitated above the line. “Who is caring for all these properties?”

“Each one has an excellent staff. And I of course have been tasked with handling the finances.”

“Will I need to be making many decisions or managing them myself if I sign?”

“In truth, it will all be up to you at that point, but you have good people in place. And I will assist you in any ways you need. I assure you. Your husband entrusted me with even the most sensitive of tasks.”

“Like locking his wife away and preventing her escape?” Her eyes narrowed, watching him.

“I think, my lady, that you will find the letters illuminating in that regard as well.” He lifted a parcel of brown papers, tied with a string.

“I shall return in one week’s time to discuss further what you learn in your hands there.

There will be much to discuss I imagine and I can give you further council and insight at that moment.

He was adamant that you learned the bulk of it through his own hand. ”

She accepted the parcel, baffled about what this could mean. She glanced down at the last page of the document she was about to sign again, the sum total number at the bottom of the page astounded her. “So I have five thousand a year?”

“From that estate yes, and more from other places.”

She shook her head. And then signed. How could she not? It was now hers, after all. With a soft giggle, she mumbled. “I guess I can get a few servants then?”

His thin lips wiggled into what looked like it might have been something warm, like a smile. “You can hire your own chef from France if you like.” He took another bite of her tart. “But she would rival these fine refreshments. They are delicious, thank you.”

She nodded. “You are quite welcome. Could you assist me in the hiring of a lady’s maid who can also help out around the house?

A scullery maid and a footman?” She paused.

“And a cook? I don’t need a chef from France, but a kindly sort of woman who knows about ailments and how to make an excellent Christmas pudding would be all I require. ”

“I will begin looking straightaway. But I do caution you. We need to be most careful in who we invite here, in how we discover your new staff. We could not, for example, simply advertise that Lady Smalling is hiring new staff for her cottage in Somerset.”

She raised both eyebrows, watching him. He was speaking carefully again and that always indicated that there were many words left unsaid.

“There are some, searching for you.”

“Pardon me?”

“Your father.”

She shuddered .

“And others who would perhaps like to find out more information about Lord Smalling.”

“Information?”