Page 8 of The Valentine Skates
Frederick handed the young man a coin for his efforts to help make sure the ewe and lamb remained together until the two bonded permanently. When the stable boy trotted off to his other chores, Frederick leaned against the gate and waited in silence until the lamb began to suck on one of the ewe’s teats. He let out the breath he’d been holding when she swiveled her head to look at the tiny interloper, but then returned to noisy, placid chewing.
Back out in the sunlight he spied a familiar carriage arriving under the portico leading to the main house. Lili’s housekeeper and butler were greeting the guests.
“Frederick,” his former father-in-law shouted. “I’m so glad you’re here. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Frederick eyed the woman dressed in black mourning clothes and sighed. Another damned widow. Old Duncombe was hell-bent on marrying him off to avoid his descent into what his former father-in-law politely referred to as “eternal damnation” with Lili. If he had to walk through the fires of hell to be with Lili, then by damn, he would.
He pasted a bland smile on his face and joined the vicar and his guest.
“Frederick, this is Mrs. Hannah Glenny. Mrs. Glenny, may I present Squire Frederick Meredith?” He pointed to the rolling, freshly furrowed fields beyond the drive leading to Wembledon. “He farms the lands next to the Howick estate.”
The latest widow being presented for his perusal lifted the black veil attached to her hat and gave him a predatory smile. “I am so pleased to finally meet you, Squire Meredith. The vicar has told me so many wonderful things about your works of charity within the parish, I pestered him to introduce us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” When Frederick extended his arm, she took it.
“I hope Emily likes sweets.” She patted a small basket she carried. “I thought she might enjoy some of my chocolate biscuits.”
Once they were inside Emily’s room, the Widow Glenny was introduced to her. When Mrs. Glenny expectantly raised the cloth napkin covering the contents of her basket, Emily gave her a thin smile and pronounced, “I hate chocolate.” Even Mrs. Miller’s eyebrows raised at that obvious fib while she arranged the tea things for Emily’s guests.
“I’m afraid my daughter’s memory may be clouded today.” Frederick took the basket from Mrs. Glenny and passed it on to the housekeeper. “I cannot recall her ever turning down any refreshment of the chocolate variety.” His eyes locked with Emily’s, and she looked away first.
Later, when they left Emily to rest, Rev. Duncombe motioned Frederick aside once he’d settled Mrs. Glenny into his carriage for the ride back to the village. “What do you think of her?”
“I think she’s a very nice parishioner of yours whom you’ve led to believe, quite mistakenly, that I’m in the market for a wife.”
“It’s been nearly six years, Frederick. It’s time. Emily needs a strong hand at the reins. You know she’s grown more headstrong each year.”
“Since when is your granddaughter a horse to be broken?” Frederick’s smile still remained, though the strain of an hour in Emily’s sickroom trying to make polite conversation had worn his tolerance thin.
“You know I’m right.”
“No, I don’t. Emily and I are fine just as we are. We’ve stumbled along together so far without anything terrible happening, and I’m sure we’ll continue to do so into the foreseeable future.”
“This is about that Lilith of a woman who caused Emily’s accident, isn’t it?”
Frederick had to stiffen his arms at his sides for fear of what he might do to Jane’s frail, aged father. When he finally spoke, he chose his words carefully. “Lady Lilianne Howick was Jane’s best friend, and mine. She means nothing but the best for Emily. You may not want to credit her, but she’s given over her home to us so that I can visit and stay with Emily as much as possible. And not that you care, but if not for her dog Tiber we would have been visiting Emily in the graveyard today.”
“Pah…” The older man waved his arm, a look of scorn on his face.
“She’s staying in Guildford with her old governess until Dr. Towle says Emily is well enough to travel back home.” At the continuing look of doubt in the old man’s eyes, Frederick continued. “What is the source of your true discontent? Is it me you hate? Do you blame me for Jane’s death, or is it just Lady Lilianne’s captivity you blame on her? You do know she was taken against her will? They murdered her brother, for heaven’s sakes.”
His former father-in-law did not flinch but kept his face close to Frederick’s and stared into his eyes for a long time. “It doesn’t matter what I think. You know as well as I do that carrying on with that, that harem woman will not only destroy your reputation, but cover Emily in the same shame.
“If you marry Lady Howick, none of you, including Emily, will ever be accepted in village society.” With that, he turned on his heel and a footman helped him up onto the carriage seat where Mrs. Glenny looked away and pretended not to have heard their heated exchange. At a nod from the vicar, the Howick groom released the horses and they disappeared down the wide oval drive toward the path away from Wembledon House.
Another groom had brought out Frederick’s gelding Rowan from the stable. He thanked the man and climbed up onto the saddle in one fluid move before trotting down the lane and then across a field back toward Weyford Manor.
Chapter Five
June - The Secret
Lili pickedher way along the towpath next to the canal along the River Wey in the warmth of a sun-kissed, early June day. She’d been walking the three miles along the path between Wembledon and Guildford after her weekly visit to Emily’s bedside. The river path was much shorter than a horseback or carriage ride along the winter-pocked dirt roads.
And…few prying eyes would be likely to spy on her comings and goings. The good ladies of the village rarely ventured along the towpath. Only workers guiding horses pulling canal boats made their way along the manure-strewn thoroughfare.
She drew in a deep breath of the early summer air along the river and felt a sharp sting of guilt. Poor Emily still fought to take deep breaths after her brush with disaster the winter before when she’d fallen through the ice. However, she’d seemed more restless that day and had begged Lili to take her outside. They’d compromised with a walk through Wembledon’s long hall where Lili’s ancestors peered down at her, with what she imagined to be censure on their painted faces.
A sudden lush, heavy scent of lavender made her wrinkle her nose. The herb must have been freshly cut in a nearby field. The heavier odor of horse assailed her nostrils in the next few seconds. She twisted her neck around to observe the trail behind her and there, a few hundred feet away, was Frederick. He was plodding along on Rowan. He followed a pair of horses led by a canal path worker, pulling a barge laden with what must be the early season’s lavender harvest at Weyford Manor. He was probably headed for the market at Guildford where he could negotiate with brokers to take the crop on to London for distribution to street vendors.