Love For The Spinster (Women 0f Worth Book 2)

by Kasey Stockton

  Groaning, I reached my arms high above my head and stretched toward the sky. Hopping to my feet, I paced the small area, running the situation through my mind in hopes of finding a solution.

  My thoughts continually jumped back to the moment when Miss Chappelle pointed out our lack of chaperone. Mrs. Bennington and Mrs. Heybourne were both visibly disturbed. Mr. Bryce had been correct, then. If news got out that we had been dining alone the past few days, my reputation would be ruined before I had a chance to prove myself to the people of Linshire.

  I was no stranger to scandal, but in the solitude of the enclosed garden I could admit to myself that I had looked forward to a place where no one knew of my father’s indiscretions.

  And there was also Daniel to think about. If nothing else, he did not deserve a soiled character because of me.

  I halted, dropping my head back and squeezing my eyes closed. I did not like it one bit, but I knew what I had to do.

  I took my time walking to the house, the sun warming me as I crossed the back lawn. I found the study door and paused in front of it, running the words through my mind that I needed to say. My fist was poised to knock when the door swung open and Daniel stepped out quickly, colliding with me and sending both of us to the floor.

  The wind was knocked out of me and I struggled to breathe, the weight of a lion applying pressure on my lungs. He rolled off before helping me to stand, but it took me a moment to regain my composure.

  “I apologize, Miss Hurst,” he said.

  I shook my head, my body still humming from the recent connection. “It is I who must apologize.”

  Daniel studied my face, his green eyes squinting in thought. He gestured to the study behind him and I stepped inside, taking a seat in a chair facing the desk. I watched him follow me in, the door left open behind him.

  He surprised me, sitting in the chair beside me instead of behind the desk. He shifted to face me and waited expectantly.

  I supposed I deserved that. “I am not accustomed to another person having any say in how I run my life,” I said.

  “Nor should that change. You are the mistress of Corden Hall.”

  I read nothing but sincerity in Daniel’s face. It squeezed my heart when I considered how horribly I had spoken to him before. “I can see the wisdom of employing a companion. Though to be honest, I do not know anyone who could fit the role. Unless my mother chooses to come, but I have yet to receive a reply to my last letter.”

  “But I know of someone,” he said quietly, glancing away. “I do not wish to cause any discomfort, but if you are agreeable to the idea, I can have her here within four days.”

  Who was this woman that could drop her life in four days and move to another house? Daniel had already admitted he had no family.

  “It would not be permanent,” I ventured cautiously. “I am not even sure I am a permanent fixture at Corden Hall, so I do not want to set up false expectations of fixed employment.”

  Daniel looked at me then. “Is any employment truly fixed?”

  A small smile graced my lips. “I suppose not.”

  We sat in silence, my mind working through the emotions of the day while trying to read Daniel’s expression. It had been trying, to say the least, and he looked just as exhausted as I felt. Which was unfair. He had sat through one visit. I had sat through significantly more.

  “Are you decided?” he asked.

  “Yes. You may write to her.”

  “I will do you one better, ma’am, and I shall retrieve her myself.”

  “Oh,” I said, stunned. “Is she nearby?”

  His smile was full of concealed amusement and he glanced away, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms high above his head, much like I had done in the garden earlier. Daniel must have had a measure of pent-up frustration as well, and I was glad we were finding a way back to our easy companionship. We were not quite there, but we were closer.

  “I must pack right away.” He stood to go. “It would be a good idea to get on the road as soon as possible.”

  “Daniel?” I asked when he reached the doorway.

  He turned to me, his handsome face a picture of calm inquiry.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiled, his dimple making an appearance and causing my stomach to flip. He bowed to me and turned to go, and I watched him as far as the hallway before he stepped from my sight.

  I could not deny the pull I felt toward him, nor the feelings he kindled within me. I was not prepared for either of those things, and it terrified me. The trip to retrieve this mystery companion was superbly timed. My heart could do with a few days away from Daniel to regulate itself.

  For I could not afford to fall in love.

  * * *

  “Ma’am?”

  I jerked my head away from the window, the cloud of dust left behind by Daniel’s traveling carriage beginning to fall and settle. “Hmm?”

  Mrs. Lewis clasped her hands in her lap, her face a picture of poorly disguised irritation. “I simply wondered what you were hoping to accomplish from this meeting so that I might be able to focus my instruction.”

  “Yes, thank you. That is wise.”

  She sat across from me on a parlor chair in the drawing room, a small writing table between us. We were right beside the long front windows and had a clear view of the driveway. I had been able to watch Daniel’s case get loaded onto the boot of the vehicle and his graceful climb inside. His head had turned slightly before he got in, but I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me through the window. But, alas, there was no sign on his face to indicate recognition. I hoped he was not still upset about our earlier conflict.

  “Do you have a list, perhaps?” Mrs. Lewis prodded, bringing me from my reverie.

  “I apologize, Mrs. Lewis. It appears my mind cannot settle.” I took in a breath, lifting my posture, and redirected my thoughts to the task at hand. “I do not have a list, no. I would like to know everything about the running of the house. And I would like to understand why the upper floor has gone into disrepair.”

  Her eyes widened and I noticed they were a lovely shade of brown. Her white hair was drawn back into a tight knot at the base of her neck and it occurred to me that I had thought her older than she likely was. She must have been a fair blonde in her youth.

  I continued, “I can see that the task may seem daunting, but I would like to invest myself in the running of this house. I am not sure where my life will lead me, but I should like to remain here for the present and would appreciate it if we could find a way to live in harmony.” I inserted a healthy dose of forthright weight into my words. I wanted her to know I could tell she was not pleased with me and I hoped for that to change. As the housekeeper, Mrs. Lewis and I would be working hand in hand and it would benefit the entire household if we had a harmonious relationship.

  She regarded me thoughtfully before clearing her throat. “The maids have a schedule they keep to and I can run you through it at a later time. For now, let us walk through the house, perhaps? I can give you a detailed tour.”

  I stood. “That sounds wonderful.” She could help me fill in the gaps from my own misguided snooping.

  “We shall begin in the kitchen.”

  I followed Mrs. Lewis downstairs, weaving through servants as she showed me the essential rooms in the kitchen area. The stillroom, polishing room, her own private parlor, and the butler’s room.

  She gestured to Harrison’s domain. “That used to be the steward’s office, but Mr. Bryce found he could meet with gentlemen farmers easier upstairs and moved all of his things into the study. It wasn’t being used at all so no one argued with him.”

  They wouldn’t though, anyway, would they? Not when he outranked the butler. Besides, raised as a gentleman, it must have been difficult for Daniel to come and reside in a large manor house and run the entire place from a small, dark office underground. I could not fault his decision at all. But then, I was not a servant.

  “Harrison did not find it presumpt
uous?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered, leading me back up the servants’ stairs. “He had no reason to complain, anyway.”

  We mounted the steps in silence, reaching a room at the top lined with counters and cupboards. “The linens are kept here.”

  And the serving dishes, I assumed, before they were brought to the dining room.

  We stepped through the door into the hallway and Mrs. Lewis took me through each of the main rooms, describing which days they were cleaned and the general duties of the maids in each of the rooms. We ended at the morning parlor, coming full circle, and she proceeded to lead me outside and explain the upkeep of the pleasure gardens and the list of gardeners responsible for their maintenance.

  “Have they always been so well maintained?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied simply. “They were the pride of your grandmother’s heart, and when the estate fell from her hands and no one came to claim it, we simply proceeded forth as we always had before. There was no one telling us to stop their upkeep, so we did not. It would have felt a large disservice to the missus to allow her precious garden to fall into disrepair.”

  It struck me how lonely Corden Hall must have felt for the last twenty years living without a master or mistress in residence. It would have become second nature to the servants to speak to and treat the steward as though he were in charge. The only correspondence I had ever had with members of Corden Hall’s household had been with the stewards. The same was true, I believed, for my father before I had taken control.

  In that line of thought, the only direction Mrs. Lewis, Harrison, or any of the servants had received, came from Daniel. Or Mr. Aiken before him.

  “I have been derelict in my duties,” I said quietly. I turned to Mrs. Lewis. “I apologize for my neglect. It was callous and thoughtless.”

  I seemed to have startled her. Her brown eyes widened and she glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with my directness. Anyone would feel a sense of protection and loyalty toward their home when a new person stepped forward and took control. It was likely why Perkins, Aunt Georgina’s butler, disliked me. He could not have appreciated my taking control over the house when it did not belong to me, but to Elsie. Mrs. Lewis had likely only felt bothered by my sudden appearance and control. She had been the woman in charge for twenty years and I suddenly stepped in to take over.

  “I can see now how much work you do,” I said, doing my best to sound sincere, “and I am prepared to lighten your burden. I should like to work together to restore Corden Hall to its former glory. I have ignored the estate for far too long.”

  “You were a child when your grandmother passed,” she said kindly.

  “But I’ve been an independent woman for these last four years. I have had plenty of time to rectify the situation and no great reason not to.”

  “That is in the past,” Mrs. Lewis said, her flat lips forming the semblance of a smile for the first time. “You cannot change that. You can only do better moving forward.”

  Chapter 10

  The following day was an overwhelming experiment in tolerance. Mrs. Lewis instructed me on the various aspects of the running of the house in between calls from more neighbors and interested townsfolk.

  It had become clear by the second callers that word had gotten around town about my sudden occupation at Corden Hall without a chaperone. Daniel’s absence added credence to the general assumption that he had gone to retrieve a companion for me, and without even knowing her name, I was unable to dispute the pointed questions.

  As thinly veiled speculations shot at me from various callers, I deflected as best I could, merely explaining that Daniel had provided me with a chaperone, but I was still growing used to the woman. He, on the other hand, had a preexisting relationship with her and it was not strange at all that he had requested her services on his latest business trip. Reason prevailed that if Daniel was not in residence then my need for a companion departed with him.

  It was apparent that I was stalling for time, but I held on to hope that the people of Linshire would lend me a measure of compassion and take my words at face value. So far, I had not been greatly disappointed.

  Mr. Bowen, the gentleman farmer from the other side of town, did not seem to care why Daniel had left or where he was. He was simply disappointed to have lost a conversation partner. “I wanted to inquire on his opinions of my latest acquisition,” he said rather moodily. He reminded me much of a plump child disappointed he did not get an extra sweet at teatime.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience, sir,” I said. “He would no doubt love to discuss your horse had he been here.”

  Mr. Bowen harrumphed, sitting back in his chair. His wife, a very similar, only smaller, version of her husband, smiled kindly. “I had wondered if he was gone. I saw his carriage driving south just last evening and thought to myself, he cannot be coming home this very night, surely. He must be gone for at least a day.”

  “How very astute you are.”

  She dipped her head coyly. “You are kind, Miss Hurst. I am so very glad you’ve come to Linshire.”

  The sincerity lacing her words was not quite unprecedented, exactly, but perhaps the closest thing I had come to an authentic person since beginning visits the day prior. I found that I liked this woman very much.

  She leaned forward as though she was going to impart a secret. “And I’ve got a special surprise for you if you would indulge me.”

  I tried to hide my unease. It could not be good if I was meant to indulge her. “Oh?”

  “We would love to have you for dinner tomorrow evening if you think it should suit? I can send my carriage for you, since Mr. Bryce has taken yours.”

  “I am afraid my companion is unavailable at present, as well.”

  “That is no matter,” she said dismissively, flapping her hand. “Mr. Bowen and I would serve just fine.”

  She continued to lean forward as she awaited my answer. She was only thinly veiling her anticipation, and I found I could not disappoint the woman.

  “I would like that very much.”

  Clapping gleefully, she roused Mr. Bowen from his examination of Mrs. Covey’s ginger biscuits.

  “We will send the carriage at half past five.”

  “I shall be ready,” I said, smiling. Mrs. Bowen’s enthusiasm was infectious, and I looked forward to the dinner despite my initial reservations.

  The Bowens stood to leave and I walked them out to the hall, nodding as Mrs. Bowen jabbered on about Corden Hall’s magnificence and how it simply begged to house a ball. The hint was not subtle in the least.

  “We shall see you tomorrow!” she called as she walked outside. My smile stretched as I raised a hand to wave them away.

  I returned to the drawing room and sank onto the sofa. Picking up a ginger biscuit, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moist, dark sugar melting on my tongue. I had been afraid Mr. Bowen would eat them all before I had the opportunity to try one. And lucky me, he had saved me two.

  What was the general etiquette on denying callers in the country? It had been so long since I lived away from London that I could not recall what my mother would do when unwanted guests arrived. In London I was never bothered by turning people from the door, but here we were not in close proximity to our neighbors. Anyone hoping for a visit had to travel at least some distance.

  I considered the situation from my mother’s point of view, but it was not entirely helpful. She was such a kind, bubbly person that she never had cause to reject a friend. She welcomed everyone equally into her home. At least, she had when she’d had a home of her own.

  It was strange that she had no desire to return to Corden Hall. She did not grow up here, entirely, but she had spent a decent amount of time in this house between all of the estates her father had owned and operated.

  But I had written her right away when I decided to move to Linshire and she expressed her contentment in remaining with her sister’s family quite clearly. Even the renewal of my invitation
was unlikely to receive a favorable response.

  Hoofbeats sounded in the drive and I stood at once, crossing to the windows and peeking behind the curtain to get a glimpse at the next visitors. I gasped when my eyes fell on the familiar carriage. I dropped the curtain and ran for the front door.

  “Elsie!” I called, rushing past Harrison with unladylike haste. “What are you doing here?”

  She looked up as her husband helped her step onto the gravel drive. Her clothes were crumpled from the trip and her eyes tired. “I missed you,” she said, coming to embrace me.

  I stepped back, taking in her clear exhaustion, and that of her husband. I had made the trip myself only the week prior. It was not all that tiring, to be honest. Worry blossomed in my chest and I tried to tamp it back down until I had just cause.

  “I hope we are not intruding?” Lord Cameron said.

  “You are always welcome,” I responded immediately. “I am only surprised.”

  “I am afraid it will not be a long visit,” he said regretfully, following us into the house. “We are visiting a few estates north of here and Elsie insisted on coming to see you on our way through.”

  “I am so glad you did.”

  I led them into the foyer. “Harrison,” I said, “please ask Mrs. Lewis to have a room prepared for my friends.”

  He bowed and walked away as the footmen carried their trunks inside. “How long shall I have you here?” I asked.

  “Two days,” Lord Cameron replied instantly. “We must keep our appointments or my man of business will have my head.” A grin belied the severity of his words, but I could appreciate the importance of keeping an appointment all the same.

  I asked a passing maid to have a fresh pot of tea sent to the drawing room. “And refresh the tray of biscuits, if Mrs. Covey has any to spare.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I led the Nichols into the drawing room and gestured for them to sit.

  “I should change first,” Elsie said, eyeing the cream sofa.

  “Whatever you prefer.” I grinned. “I am just so glad to see you.”