The Ladies of Ivy Cottage

by Julie Klassen

  Finally he set down Athena’s last leg and opened a jar of salve. “Can you distract her for me while I tend her wounds? Perhaps brush her mane? She liked that, as I recall.”

  Jane nodded and retrieved her grooming tools. She returned and gingerly entered Athena’s stall, murmuring soothing words all the while.

  She stroked Athena’s soft muzzle and slowly began brushing her mane. The horse stilled again, and her eyes soon became half hooded in pleasure.

  “That’s the way,” he whispered. He applied salve to a wound on the mare’s sleek neck. And to a second wound on her leg, near her rump. “Can you hold her tail aside a moment? I don’t want to trap any long hairs in this bandage.”

  “Of course.” Jane stepped around, keeping one reassuring hand on Athena’s side as she did.

  Her hand touched his, and she pulled back. “Sorry.”

  His eyes held hers. “Don’t be.”

  Jane drew in another breath and tried to focus on her task.

  A short while later, they left the exhausted horse to sleep in peace.

  “I have not seen her this content since you left. She’s missed you and . . . so have I.”

  Gabriel looked at her in surprise, then a teasing smile quirked his mouth. “Have you a hoof that needs trimming as well?”

  “No, my hooves are fine.” Jane ducked her head and glanced self-consciously at her half boots, chagrined to see how worn they were. “Though perhaps a visit to a cobbler might be in order.”

  He stowed their tools and extinguished the lantern. She followed him past the stalls of horses, some sleeping, a few prodding empty feed buckets with their muzzles, or quietly whinnying as they passed.

  At the stable door, Jane reached out and touched Gabriel’s arm. “Thank you for coming. You’re the only one she trusts.”

  He nodded, his dark brown eyes tracing her cheeks, her eyes, her mouth. When he spoke, his voice rumbled low in his chest. “I would do anything for her. You know that, don’t you?”

  The intensity of his dark eyes caused Jane’s insides to tighten and tingle. Mouth dry, she made do with a nod.

  He took a half step closer. “Jane . . .”

  A new postboy stepped out of the bunk room, yawning and scratching his belly. “Oh. Sorry, ma’am, sir. Only going out to relieve myself.”

  Jane said wryly, “Thank you, Fred. For that.”

  She turned back to Gabriel. “You are welcome to stay, of course. As far as I know, your former room is as you left it. Our new farrier has a family, so he doesn’t live here on the property.”

  “I will stay the night, thank you. I’ll want to check on Athena again in the morning.”

  Would he leave after that? Jane was afraid to ask. To press him. “Well, I had better let you get some sleep. Now that Athena is sleeping peacefully, I have high hopes I shall as well.”

  She smiled at him but he did not smile back, and she felt the gesture falter. “Well. Good night, Gabriel. Thank you again for coming. Perhaps we might . . . talk more in the morning?”

  “Good night, Jane,” he said but made no promises.

  Jane was wrong. She slept poorly indeed.

  In the morning, Jane dressed hurriedly but with care and walked directly out to the stables. She sighed in relief. There was Gabriel, again in Athena’s stall. It had not been a compelling dream after all.

  “Oh, good. I was afraid you might have already left.”

  “I would not leave without saying good-bye. Not unless you send me away again.”

  “I did not!” She protested, then saw he was teasing her. She wished he didn’t have to say good-bye at all.

  He said, “I have some business in the area. So I thought I would stay for a few days, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t.”

  “That way I can keep an eye on Athena.”

  “I appreciate that. How is she?”

  “It will take time for her to heal. But she will be all right.”

  “Good. I . . . don’t suppose I could convince you to take your old job back?” She added a little laugh, hoping he wouldn’t hear the vulnerability in her voice.

  He chuckled in return—an oddly heartbreaking sound. “No. But thank you for the offer.”

  “Well . . . thank you again for coming. I hope your uncle can spare you.”

  “He can. In fact, I am thinking of striking out on my own.”

  “Are you, indeed? I thought you were out of horse racing for good?”

  “I am. But I still want to raise horses. Riding horses, Thoroughbreds, perhaps even carriage horses, if I must. I hope to buy a farm of my own.”

  “Gracious! You must have won all the money John lost and then some.” A little stab of bitterness pricked her at the thought.

  He frowned. “I told you, Jane. I stopped betting while I was still ahead. My uncle found out and insisted, thank God. I tried to persuade John to stop, too, but he would not heed me.”

  “I know. I don’t blame you.”

  His dark brows rose. “You don’t?”

  “Not anymore.” She inhaled deeply. “John was a grown man who made his own decisions, and his own mistakes. I have forgiven him and am ready to leave the past behind.”

  Good heavens. Jane hoped that didn’t seem too forward. She felt her face heat. Would he think she was hinting . . . ? If she was, she had no intention of being so obvious.

  He watched her face, his expression difficult to decipher. “I am glad to hear it.”

  Flustered, Jane turned to the nearby stall. Inside, a familiar chestnut watched them with intelligent eyes. Jane tentatively reached over the rail. “Hello, handsome boy.” When he didn’t object, she stroked the white blaze on his forehead.

  Gabriel said, “He remembers you.”

  “And I him. I rode him more than once, if you recall, back when you told me he was being boarded here by some gentleman away from home.”

  “I am sorry about that. From here on out, I promise to tell you only the absolute truth.”

  “Hmm. Are you certain you can keep that promise? I don’t know what to think about that gentleman, but I can say unequivocally that his taste in horses is excellent.”

  He chuckled softly. She glanced over and saw his eyes resting on her intently. Deep and dark.

  “Gabriel, I want—”

  “Gabriel? Gabriel Locke?” Tuffy called. “Ted, come quick, Mr. Locke is here!”

  Tall Ted bounded over, followed by young Joe, beaming at their former leader.

  “Gable!” Ted exclaimed, pounding his shoulder. “So good to see you.”

  The men gathered and buzzed around him like happy bees, and Jane retreated to let them enjoy their reunion.

  What she wanted could wait.

  Jane walked over to the inn, humming, and found Cadi staring out the window into the stable yard.

  “Well, I’ll be,” the maid murmured. “Mr. Locke is back.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  Cadi glanced at her, and her eyes widened. “Good heavens, Mrs. Bell. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you smile so bright. What—or should I say who—has you smiling like that? I should have known something was afoot when Mr. Locke came all the way to Epsom that day to make sure you were all right.”

  “Other business brought him to Epsom, Cadi.”

  “If you say so. And what has brought him back here now, I wonder.” The girl’s every feature shone with mischief.

  “Athena. He’s come to tend her wounds. She won’t let Tom anywhere near her, as you know.”

  “Oh sure, and did Athena write to Mr. Locke and ask him to come?”

  “Of course not. I did. For Athena’s sake.”

  “Um-hm.” Cadi grinned, and Jane couldn’t resist a small smile in reply. Bubbles of pleasure tickled her stomach, because something told her Athena was not the only reason Gabriel had returned.

  A man came through the door at that moment, and Jane turned, grateful for the interruption. James Drake.

  “Good day
, James. How are you this fine morning?”

  “Hello, Jane. I came to ask you to dinner. . . .” He looked at her more closely, rearing his head back in surprise. “What has you smiling so impishly? You look positively giddy.”

  “Do I?”

  Cadi sent him a meaningful look as she passed. “It isn’t a what, so much as a who.”

  Cheeky girl. Jane shook her head as Cadi walked away, then turned back to James.

  His smile became wistful. “I would have liked to be the man to make you smile like that.”

  Jane met his gaze a moment, gauging his sincerity. “No, you would not.”

  “Why do you say that?” He stuck out his lip like a pouty little boy.

  “Come, James, don’t give me that injured look. I know you like to tease me, and we enjoy each other’s company, of course, but I’ve never believed you had serious intentions toward me.”

  “I believe the reverse is true.” He tilted his head to one side. “I did not think you wanted me to be serious, Jane, where you are concerned. Was I wrong?”

  She stilled. “I . . . No, you were right.”

  “I usually relish being right. But in this instance, I would have rather been wrong.”

  She tucked her chin. “James, I sincerely doubt your heart has ever been in any danger where I am concerned. Or anyone else for that matter. Tell me honestly—have you ever truly loved someone?”

  He lowered his gaze and was quiet for so long she feared she had deeply offended him.

  Then he said, “I was in danger of doing so once, a long time ago. But I let her slip through my fingers, out of reach.”

  Jane’s heart pounded dully. “Miss Payne, do you mean?”

  He nodded, brows high in surprise.

  “Mercy told me. I am sorry, James.”

  He sighed. “Never mind.” He sent her a wry glance. “This is not helping my case with you, is it?”

  She chuckled. “No. But I’m glad to know anyway. I did wonder. . . . For all your kind attentions, I always felt you kept your heart at a distance. Now I understand why.”

  He looked up, considering. “No doubt I have idealized her over time. I have only her memory to relive. She has not aged, her sweet temper not faltered. Perhaps under longer acquaintance, she would not seem as perfect as she does to me now. And she would certainly have become all too aware of my faults. As you have.”

  She thought of the tension between him and Mercy. But Mr. Drake was her friend too. “James, of course you have faults. We all do. But you are an admirable, likable man. You could still make some woman very happy.”

  “Are you applying for the position?” His dimpled grin returned.

  She shook her head. “There he is again, the James I know and—”

  “And what, Jane?”

  “And had better send on his way before he serves up more flummery.”

  He studied her face. “You know, you still haven’t told me who had you smiling like that when I arrived.”

  She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, is that the time?”

  He shook his head in mild reproof. “I call that unfair. You make me bare my soul and yet you don’t return the favor.”

  She winked at him. “Exactly.”

  That afternoon, Mercy trudged down to the sitting room after a day of teaching. It was time to begin writing letters to her pupils’ families, letting them know of the planned closing of her school come the new year. Reaching the door, she glanced into the sitting room and saw Colin McFarland and Anna Kingsley working together again.

  Colin sat bent over a page of figures, a lock of light brown hair falling over his brow.

  Thinking herself unobserved, Anna Kingsley studied the young man’s profile, admiration shining in her fair eyes.

  Colin set down his pencil and slid the paper toward her, expression tense. “I hope that’s right.”

  While his tutor reviewed the numbers, Colin then studied her.

  After a few moments, Anna looked up, a bright smile splitting her face. “Exactly right. Well done, Mr. McFarland.”

  He released a relieved breath. “Saints be praised. And it’s Colin, if you please. You make me feel ancient, and . . . we are not so different in age, after all.”

  Anna met his gaze a moment, then looked down, blushing prettily. “No indeed.”

  Mercy decided those letters could wait a few minutes more. She left the two young people as they were and went to find a bracing cup of hot tea.

  A short while later, Mercy returned and found the sitting room empty. Colin and Anna had left, and with them her excuse to put off her letters. With a sigh, Mercy sat. She propped one elbow on the secretaire desk, and with the other hand picked up a quill and dipped it. She sat there, quill poised, until the ink plopped onto the paper, but not a single word came.

  With a sigh, she put the quill back in its holder and held her head in her hands. Lord, give me strength.

  She heard a knock on the front door, and a few moments later, Mr. Basu ushered in their lawyer.

  Mercy rose. “Mr. Coine, I didn’t expect you—though perhaps I should have.” She gestured toward a chair. “Please be seated.”

  She reclaimed her chair, and he sat as well.

  He began, “I am here in the role of intermediary. Mr. Drake tells me the two of you argued when last you spoke, and he assumes you would wish to avoid another scene that might prove unpleasant to you both.”

  “I understand.”

  “He asked me to communicate that he is preparing a room for his . . . for Alice in the Fairmont and asks if it is acceptable that he leave her with you until that room is readied for a child.”

  “Yes, of course. She is welcome to stay as long as he needs.” Longer, even. Mercy was thankful for a little more time with the dear girl.

  He nodded. “Most kind. By the way, I have just come from explaining Mr. Drake’s claim to Mr. Thomas. Talk about unpleasant scenes . . .”

  “I am sorry you had to do that, Mr. Coine.”

  He waved away her concerns. “Perils of the profession.”

  Mercy said, “I would have almost thought Mr. Thomas would feel vindicated for his suspicions—for disowning Mary-Alicia and, in turn, Alice.”

  “I will not attempt to express Mr. Thomas’s emotions for him, Miss Grove. But he was sincere in his desire that you should raise the girl, and this has come as a blow to him. As it has to you, I know.”

  He rose. “Well, I will dispose of the guardianship papers. And will not hear of you paying a farthing.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Coine. You are the exception to the profession’s sometimes poor reputation.”

  “I do what I can.” He smiled kindly. “Again, my apologies for your disappointment.”

  She nodded and walked him to the door.

  For several moments, Mercy stood there, watching him go and wondering how long it took to fit up a room for one small girl. However long it took, it would not be long enough.

  Chapter

  thirty-eight

  Early the next day, Jane stood at the booking desk when Gabriel entered through the side door. She had not seen him since the morning before.

  “Good morning, Jane.”

  “Gabriel. How are you sleeping in your old room?”

  “Not well, actually. But it’s a beautiful day. We should get out and enjoy it.”

  She looked up and met his expectant gaze.

  “Would you ride with me, Jane?”

  He stepped nearer, his tone low, almost intimate. She was probably reading too much into it. It was a simple, innocent request . . . so why did her heart beat hard at his words?

  “Do you think Athena is ready?”

  “I thought you might ride Sultan, while I ride another horse and keep Athena on a lead. I want to make sure she isn’t favoring that leg.”

  “Good idea. I’ve been afraid to ride her with her injuries. And I would like to ride Sultan again.”

  He grinned. “I thought you might.”

  “
But what about you? Old Ruby is still here and no doubt missed you too.”

  “Oh no. I have a new horse I am becoming acquainted with—bought him yesterday from the Brockwells’ farm manager.”

  “Ah. So that’s what you were doing yesterday.”

  “Yes. Would you like to see him?”

  “I would indeed.”

  Jane summoned Cadi to help her change into her new blue riding habit, and hearing whom Jane would be riding with, the maid eagerly complied.

  Gabriel retrieved a top hat and looked handsome in his dark red coat, riding breeches, and tall boots. In fact, he looked every inch the sporting gentleman.

  The day was cool but bright. They rode through rolling farmland, scaring up pheasants from the hedgerows as they went, then ventured into Grovely Wood.

  As they slowed to a walk on the woodland track, Jane glanced over at Gabriel, admiring the lines of his face and his confident posture on horseback. “You mentioned wanting to buy your own farm. I assume you are looking at land near Pewsey Vale—to be near your uncle?”

  “Actually, I am thinking of looking in this area.”

  Surprise shot through her. “Near Ivy Hill?”

  He nodded and studied her face.

  Her pulse pounded as apprehension dawned. “Lane’s Farm is for sale.”

  “I know.”

  “That is very near indeed.”

  His dark eyes gauged her reaction. “Would that be a problem? We’ve had our disagreements, you and I, and if you prefer I keep my distance, just say so.”

  She held his gaze, then looked away. “Those disagreements are in the past.”

  “Are they?”

  She nodded, and lowered her head to avoid a low-hanging branch.

  He did the same. “Good.”

  They rode on a few moments, trotting up a rise.

  “So I don’t need to keep my distance?” His low voice did strange things to her heart.

  She pressed her lips together and gave a shaky little jerk of her head.

  Her gesture must not have been convincing, because he asked, “You won’t mind having your former farrier so close by?”

  Jane’s chest tightened. Was he considering moving to the area specifically to be near her? “I . . . don’t think so. Though some will think I must have paid you far too much if you can afford to buy your own farm.”