Page 12 of The Taming of the Countess
CHAPTER TWELVE
J ames left the next day, and it was all Evie could do to keep herself from following him.
She wished she’d never made that agreement when all she wanted to do right now was summon a carriage and go riding after him. But a promise was a promise, even if she didn’t like keeping it.
He’d told her the secrets about India that he’d been holding on to for the past two years. She couldn’t imagine reliving those moments, and she now understood why he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. But more than that, she recognised the weight of guilt he carried. He blamed himself for not saving Matthew sooner and for waiting to be rescued.
And that was why he was riding to London now—in his own attempt to protect her. In return, all he wanted was for her to remain safe.
Maybe…that meant he was starting to care for her. Their marriage was so fragile, Evie didn’t want to risk shattering it. Especially after he’d lowered the bound-aries between them, sharing a part of his past that he’d told no one else.
So, after that, she’d had no choice but to stay behind.
Logically, she knew James was right. If there were still any kind of criminal charges against her, despite the bribes they’d paid, it wasn’t wise for her to return to London. But she still worried about him. Lord Dunwood wasn’t a reasonable man. If anything, he was a greedy, overbearing bastard who had done nothing except relentlessly pursue her. He wouldn’t hesitate to threaten James. And she simply didn’t know how to help her husband from so far away.
To distract herself from the worry, she’d spent the morning trying to learn about all her responsibilities at Penford. Although she’d hoped to spend time with the dowager, Lady Penford was having a difficult morning, and she’d refused to leave her room.
Which left her utterly alone. Evie wasn’t accustomed to idleness, and it occurred to her that she needed to get better acquainted with the local villagers. Many families struggled during the winter, and she wanted to ensure that no one was facing hunger or need.
‘Lady Penford,’ one of the maids asked. ‘Could I do that for you?’
It was then that Evie noticed she’d begun polishing the stair banister with a dusting cloth. ‘Sorry, Ann.’ She passed the cloth over to the maid. ‘I was thinking about the villagers and didn’t even notice what I was doing.’
Ann’s expression grew curious. ‘Is there anything you need, my lady?’
‘I don’t know the people here,’ she admitted. ‘I only met a few of them when I was shopping for Christmas gifts. But we’ve had a great deal of snow since then, and I wondered if anyone was…in need of assistance. Do they need any food for the winter or supplies?’
The maid appeared surprised. ‘There are always folk in need. But the church takes care of them, and we look after one another.’
‘I do not believe in anyone going hungry,’ Evie said. ‘It goes against everything I stand for. And if any of the people wish to work, I can try to help.’ There was always a need for seamstresses in her family’s business.
The maid’s uneasy expression revealed that it was the last thing she’d expected her to say. Evie supposed the household staff would expect her to behave like an ordinary countess, someone who embroidered or played the piano. She’d grown so used to her family’s servants, who were accustomed to their eccentric ways, that she’d forgotten no one really knew her here.
‘I would like to visit the village,’ Evie suggested. Her parents had always paid calls on the local villagers when they’d travelled to her father’s home in Scotland. She might as well do the same here.
It was the best way to push aside her own troubles, she decided. Visiting others to learn what they needed was a wonderful way to take her mind off her fears, and it might also be a good way to distract the dowager as well. Lady Penford could help her make bundles and baskets of gifts. ‘We could bring them supplies,’ Evie suggested. ‘Grain and food for the winter. Perhaps blankets or wool.’
‘It’s a good idea, my lady.’ The maid quietly picked up the dusting cloth. ‘But perhaps you should call upon them first. Get acquainted to find out what they need.’
‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘Will you ask Cook to prepare some ginger biscuits? I can bring them as gifts during the call. And later, we can load up a wagon with goods to deliver.’
‘They may not accept your charity,’ Ann warned. ‘They do have their pride.’
Evie understood that. ‘Perhaps not,’ she acceded. ‘But we could be discreet. After you speak with Cook, could you arrange for an escort? And I’ll need my cloak and a muff.’
She thanked Ann and returned to her writing desk in the drawing room to start making lists of what they might need. Just then, the Dowager Lady Penford walked inside, followed by the housekeeper, Mrs Marlock. Lady Penford’s hair was down around her shoulders, and she wore a bright blue ball gown.
For a moment, Evie wondered what to say. Then she complimented Iris. ‘That’s a lovely colour on you.’
‘Most of my gowns are black, grey, and lavender,’ Iris admitted. ‘I don’t know why everything I own is in such wearisome colours. Today, I wanted something more cheerful. George will want to see me in something pretty.’
Evie’s smile grew strained, but she didn’t try to correct the dowager. ‘You do look lovely in blue.’ But she realised Iris had been a widow for nearly two years, so it was time enough for her to set her mourning garb aside. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go shopping with me today,’ she suggested. ‘We could pick out some new fabric for gowns.’
But Iris shook her head. ‘There are wolves outside,’ she warned. ‘I saw them prowling, so we must be careful not to leave the house.’ Her face was serious, even though her words made little sense.
‘Wolves?’ Evangeline set down her pen and gave the matron her attention. Though she didn’t believe her, she felt she owed it to the dowager to hear her story. ‘What do you mean? Tell me what you saw.’
The older woman’s eyes held fear when she glanced at the window. ‘I saw them outside, lurking.’
The housekeeper took a step inside the room and shook her head gently. Evie suspected that it had been a bad dream. Though she imagined that everyone had already told Lady Penford that there were no wolves, it wouldn’t diminish the woman’s fear.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked Iris gently as she stood from the desk.
At that, the dowager’s face crumpled, and she rushed forward, reaching for Evie’s hands. ‘I am, yes. But I worry about you, sweet girl. And the baby.’
A rush of uncertainty flooded through her. ‘I’m not—there is no baby.’ Her courses had already come once, so she was certain of it. ‘You must be thinking of your daughter, Rose.’
The dowager only sent her a sidelong look and said nothing. But the mention of a baby brought an empty ache within Evie. She wanted to believe that one day James might change his mind. Perhaps they could truly be husband and wife after he returned from London. Even if he didn’t want a child now, he might consider it later. Something had changed between them, and it gave her a reason to hope.
The dowager released her hands and sat down in a chair. Her expression had gone vacant, and she began whispering to herself.
‘I thought we might make some gifts to the villagers,’ Evie began. ‘Do you knit or crochet? We could make mittens or hats, if you like. Or we could bring them blankets and grain for the winter.’
But Lady Penford only continued whispering to herself. Evie overheard the word wolves, and she decided to let the dowager be. She motioned to Mrs Marlock to come forward. ‘Bring Lady Penford some tea and breakfast. I’ll watch over her.’
She brought her chair beside Lady Penford and asked, ‘Have you heard from Rose or Lily?’
‘No.’ The dowager was twisting her hands together, the worry evident in her eyes. ‘Where is James? He should be here.’
‘He’s gone to London, I’m afraid. But he will return in a few weeks.’ Evie tried to keep her voice soothing, but she could already see that Lady Penford would not be deterred.
Instead, her agitation only increased. ‘Send someone to fetch him back. The wolves are here. He needs to know.’
‘I—all right,’ she lied. ‘I will send word to him.’
‘Good,’ the dowager said. ‘And promise me you will not leave the estate. The wolves,’ she repeated.
Evie nodded, though she couldn’t imagine what was upsetting the older woman so much. She walked over to the window and asked, ‘Could you…show me the wolves, Lady Penford?’
The older woman sighed. ‘I suppose they are in the forest now. But they do come back. I saw one this morning.’
When the food arrived, Evie tried to coax the woman to eat, but the dowager only picked at a slice of toast.
She approached the housekeeper and asked Mrs Marlock in a low voice, ‘Have you or any of the others noticed anything around the estate that could be bothering Lady Penford?’
‘No, my lady. She does have these spells from time to time,’ Mrs Marlock answered. ‘There’s little harm in them. We’ve found that when we let her believe what she wants, she’s better for it.’
Evie kept her voice low and said, ‘I do think I’d like to pay some calls this morning. But I don’t want to upset the dowager.’
‘We can watch over her here,’ Mrs Marlock promised. ‘There’s no harm in it.’
Evie nodded and then returned to sit across from her mother-in-law, ‘Lady Penford, I will see you later this morning. I need to see to the household.’
The woman barely acknowledged her and continued to murmur to herself about the imaginary wolves.
After she left the room, Evie found Ann waiting for her with a cloak and a warm muff. ‘Fred has the cutter waiting for ye, my lady. It’ll be faster than a carriage because of the snow.’
Evie cast another look back at the drawing room, feeling sad for Lady Penford. But there was little they could do for the dowager.
‘Please take care of her,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll return within a few hours.’
* * *
Evangeline spent the rest of the morning in the village visiting several of the families. She’d brought ginger biscuits for the children and had introduced herself to the tenants. All were respectful, but she sensed that she was keeping them from their work, so she didn’t stay too long. But she had noticed which homes were cold during the winter, lacking enough wood or peat for the hearth. She’d also taken note of the children and whether they seemed hungry or well-fed.
At the last cottage, she took her basket with her while the footman escorted her. When the door opened, she saw a young woman holding a screaming baby. Behind her were two other young children, and it didn’t seem as if they had eaten any time recently.
The footman wrinkled his nose, but Evie ignored him. ‘Good morning. I am Lady Penford. I hope I’ve not disturbed you. I wanted to meet all the families.’
The woman paled and clutched the baby before she glanced behind her at the other two children. They appeared to be around four years old and two years old, Evie guessed. But she didn’t know why the woman seemed so afraid of her.
‘Would you and the children like any ginger biscuits?’
The woman still appeared fearful, but she nodded. ‘Thank you, Lady Penford.’ She bade the children sit down, all the while bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe it. Even so, her gaze remained searching, as if she expected someone to return at any moment.
Evie gave the children each a ginger biscuit, and the boys devoured it before she’d had a chance to give one to their mother. Tears formed in the young woman’s eyes, but she thanked Evie.
‘What is your name?’ she asked the mother.
‘Gertrude,’ the woman sniffled. ‘I’m sorry about the baby crying, my lady. I’ve lost my milk, and I’ve naught to feed her just now.’
Evie murmured to the footman and gave him a coin, ordering Fred to bring back goat’s milk for the infant. He obeyed and left them.
‘I’ve sent my footman to fetch milk for the baby,’ she explained. ‘May I hold her?’
‘She won’t stop crying,’ Gertrude said, breaking into sobs of her own. ‘And I’ve no wish to give her up to another family.’
‘I won’t let that happen,’ Evie said. ‘We’ll see to it that the baby is fed.’ When the woman passed over the infant, yearning caught inside Evie as she patted the baby on the back and lifted it to her shoulder. She noticed a man’s hat and cane lying upon the bed, and she asked, ‘Where is your husband?’
‘Buried in the churchyard,’ Gertrude answered. ‘Just last spring.’ She clenched her hands together and said, ‘I promise ye, I’ll find a way to pay our rents. I just need to find work.’
A sadness caught Evie when she realised the woman was a widow. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, still walking with the screaming baby. ‘Do you sew?’
The woman shook her head. ‘Not beyond mending.’
‘We’ll find something for you at Penford,’ Evie promised. ‘At least, something to help you get by.’ Or until Gertrude could be taught to sew undergarments for Aphrodite’s Unmentionables.
A few moments later, the footman returned with goat’s milk, and the young mother prepared a bottle. Evie gave the baby back to her, and Gertrude broke down into sobs as she fed the infant. ‘Thank you, my lady.’
‘Come to Penford in the morning,’ she instructed. ‘Bring the children with you, and we will see if there is work you can do.’
Gertrude dried her tears and said, ‘Thank you, my lady. I am grateful. But—’ Her voice broke off and her face appeared pained. ‘I am so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you. I never meant to—’ Her words broke off and she shook her head as the emotion overtook her.
It was a strange apology, but Evie dismissed it. ‘It’s no trouble at all.’ She left another basket with the family with food from her own luncheon.
But after she departed, she felt a sense of exhaustion and sadness, mingled with purpose. She was glad she’d come to visit, but it bothered her that the young mother was struggling to feed her children.
As she climbed into the cutter, she glanced behind her. For a moment, she thought she saw a horse and rider disappearing into the trees. There were more footsteps in the snow, but that could easily have been her own servant when he’d gone to fetch the goat’s milk.
She told herself she was being foolish for no reason. There was no reason for her own uneasiness. Perhaps, she was just feeling alone.
Evie raised her hood against the chill as the cutter moved through the snow, drawn by their horses. The wintry air was frigid, but there was a beauty in the stillness. For a moment, she drank in her surroundings, realising that Penford was truly a place where she could be happy. Not only was it peaceful, but she could find a way to take care of the people in the same way she’d helped women in London. She had more money than she could ever hope to spend, but her wealth meant so much more when it gave her the power to change the lives of so many, lifting them out of poverty. Her father had taught her that.
They continued driving back to the estate, and aside from their own tracks, the snow appeared undisturbed, a fresh layer having fallen early this morning. As they pulled closer to Penford, she thought of Lady Penford’s claim that wolves were surrounding the house. What was the reason for the dowager’s fears? Had it been nightmares? Or perhaps it was the fact that James had left for London. The more she thought of it, the more Evie realised that this could be the source of Lady Penford’s terror. She hoped to reassure the dowager and help her have a better evening.
Her footman Fred drew the cutter to a stop and helped her out. Just as Evie was about to walk towards the house, she heard a loud braying noise coming from the stables.
She paused a moment and decided to see how her donkey was. It was unusual for him to make such noise, although Hotay was starting to show his personality and make mischief. Fred started to unhitch the horses from the cutter while Evie walked inside.
Hotay was practically screeching, and she called out, ‘It’s all right, Hotay.’
In the darkness, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but it was then that she saw a man standing on the far side of the stable near Hotay. It wasn’t one of her servants, and her heart began pounding at the sight of him.
When he turned around, Lord Dunwood smiled. ‘Hello, Evangeline.’