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

by Kasey Stockton

  She leaned over and picked up Daniel’s hand in her own, squeezing once. “Impossible.”

  There was certainly more here than met the eye. I was prepared to inquire on their relationship when Daniel stood, effectively cutting me off. “Mrs. Lewis has prepared a bedchamber on the same floor as Miss Hurst. I will show you there directly if you would like, Mrs. Overton, and then we can return in time for dinner.”

  She stood and followed him from the room, leaving me with a cold teapot and sadly darkening windows. Melancholy settled on my shoulders and they stooped accordingly. I wanted to follow their warmth from the room but instead remained seated, my mind drifting to the events of the previous few days.

  Elsie hadn’t confided in me before they departed. She had been so close, but Major Heybourne’s appearance ceased all talk at once. I could only assume that her trouble was related to her lack of children. Perhaps my own naivety had a role to play, but four years of marriage with no children seemed cause enough to come to terms with the sad truth that she would not become a mother. Rosalynn’s easy pregnancies could not make that any easier to bear.

  “You look as though you’ve got the weight of a thousand worlds on your shoulders.”

  I looked up to catch Daniel’s compassionate gaze.

  “I received a visit from a friend while you were gone,” I explained. “I wish it were within my power to do more for her, but I am afraid no earthly being could extinguish her troubles completely.”

  A furrow appeared in his brow and he crossed into the room, his damp hair and immaculate clothing a testament that he’d been in his chambers for quite some time. I had really lost myself to pondering.

  “Regardless of your inability to help, in your opinion, it is a noble notion to wish it, and your friend is fortunate indeed to have you by her side.”

  My mouth broke into a semblance of a smile. “It is enough to wish to help? Dear me, I’ve been going about it wrong all these years.”

  “Do not misread my words,” he said, mockingly affronted. “I only meant—well, I believe you know precisely what I meant.”

  “I believe I do.” I glanced away, his steady gaze too much to hold. “I like Mrs. Overton,” I offered.

  His smile turned pensive. “You were correct earlier. It cost her greatly to come. I believe, however, it is for the best, regardless of what she believes at present.”

  His words could not have sounded any more mysterious had he tried to make them so.

  Mrs. Overton arrived shortly after and we made our way into the dining room. I took the head of the table, flanked by Daniel and my new companion. Conversation flowed neatly, topics ranging from the weather to the local parishioners and various updates on their lives. Mrs. Overton possessed a decent understanding of the people in the area, though she admitted it was her first time to Linshire. I could only come to the conclusion that Daniel had written to her, and frequently, by the sound of it.

  “I have it in my mind to restore the bedchambers,” I said. “There seems to be only one usable guest room and it was recently inhabited by yourself.”

  Daniel nodded, finishing a bite of potatoes. “It did not appear that way when I first arrived.”

  “Tell me something,” I requested, lowering my fork and leaning closer. “Why have the servants taken great pains to keep up the gardens, but the interior of the house has been left to deteriorate? Is the structure of the building in any sort of danger?” I had noticed a few cracks lining the wall in the morning parlor earlier, and it worried me.

  “The building is solid. I can only assume that Mr. Aiken or your father did not sign off on the purchases required to keep up the rooms.”

  “Then I shall,” I said. “What say you, Mrs. Overton? Shall we restore this home to a state of respectability?”

  “I am not sure I am the right person for the job,” she said. “I cannot do much more than sit and point.”

  “We’ll need someone to point,” Daniel said quickly. “There must be a person in charge of making sure we are putting things right.”

  I glanced between Daniel and Mrs. Overton as they shared a sweet smile. The nature of their relationship was a mystery. They were not forthcoming with information about it, and if I was not mistaken, Daniel even went so far as to intentionally avoid the topic.

  But I was not about to employ a companion when I did not know her full story.

  I steeled my resolve. I would have to be careful, but I was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

  * * *

  The morning room had undoubtedly become my favorite room in the house. Not only did it possess a clear view of the pleasure gardens, but it was light, warm, and comfortable in the mornings. And it had been very well maintained.

  Mrs. Overton joined Coco and me there shortly after breakfast.

  “Where do you come from, Miss Hurst?” she asked, her hands clasped lightly in her lap, an easy smile on her mouth.

  “I have been in London the last four years. I grew up in the countryside, but I cannot seem to remember much of it. Town life has consumed the majority of my adult years.”

  “I never liked London much.” She shook her head slowly, her mouth turned down in distaste. “It was too busy and the air too thick.”

  I smiled indulgently. “That is a common complaint, to be sure. Where do you hail from, Mrs. Overton?” It was a natural progression of the conversation, yet I still felt nervous. I had the feeling that Daniel did not want me to pry.

  “A beautiful little town called Hannoville outside of London. Though far enough away to be called country. Have you been there?”

  “I can’t say that I have. It does not sound familiar.”

  She nodded as though she expected that answer.

  “It is very small, but I loved it. We had the sort of community that loved and supported one another. My neighbors were people I’ve known most of my life.”

  I stilled. How selfish I felt. One word of acceptance from me and Daniel sped off to steal this kind woman from a home she’d known her entire life? “You needn’t remain at Corden Hall,” I said cautiously. “I am sure we can find another companion if you’d like to return to your home.”

  Mrs. Overton gazed fondly out the window. It was unclear whether her gaze landed on the gardens or reached some far away dream. “I am content, dear. Do not fret.”

  That was an easy request, but difficult in execution. “Very well.”

  Harrison entered the room, proffering a letter on a silver tray. I took the note and sliced the wax seal with a knife before setting it back on the tray. The handwriting was foreign to me, and the seal unfamiliar as well.

  “Oh,” I said aloud, surprised to read the content of the letter. “Mrs. Heybourne has invited us to dine tomorrow night. She is our neighbor of Fairlinn Court. She would love to meet you.” I glanced up at Mrs. Overton, her face a picture of quiet contentment. “If you are agreeable.”

  “I am at your disposal,” she replied, her tone void of malice. She was, it appeared, entirely comfortable being at my disposal.

  It was an altogether foreign feeling.

  I understood that she was a paid member of the household. Someone there to do my bidding, stay with me always, and lend me a certain level of virtue. I was a companion to Aunt Georgina for almost four years, though in a blessed circumstance, and did not truly live the sorry life a paid companion typically endured. How was I to convey to this woman that she was capable of making her own choices, that she need not cater to me? I had been independent ever since the scandal broke free and my mother fled London. I did not need a motherly figure then, and I certainly didn’t now.

  I stood, Coco at my heels, and Mrs. Overton followed suit.

  “I have a meeting with Mrs. Lewis. I shall see you at lunch.”

  I could tell I’d surprised the woman, but I did not wait around to see what she had to say. I spun on my heel and made my way toward the servant staircase that led down to the kitchens. I was going to find Mrs.
Lewis and she was going to teach me something.

  I caught Daniel’s retreating form in the hallway and called out to him. He glanced over his shoulder and my stomach did a flip. It was not unpleasant, and caused my breathing to come in quicker takes. Dratted feelings. They would go away, eventually. They always did.

  “We’ve received an invitation to dine at Fairlinn Court tomorrow evening,” I said, fiddling with my skirts between my fingertips. Coco came around my feet and began sniffing at Daniel’s shoes.

  “That will be nice. I’ve always liked Mr. Heybourne.”

  I felt unaccountably irritated. “Yes, most people do. Shall I give an acceptance for the household?”

  He peered at me closely, his eyebrows pulling together slightly. “Are you sure I am invited?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Heybourne mentioned you by name. I feel like I will need your support, if you are willing to lend it.”

  He moved as though to step closer but paused, his face fixed on my own. “Always, Freya. That is what I am here for.”

  I found myself lost within his gaze until he pulled me straight out again. The romantic within me that had begun to make an appearance was firmly put in her place. Daniel chose to be here, yes, but he was also being paid for it.

  He worked for me.

  I had to get away.

  Turning on my heel, I made my way back into the morning room, past Mrs. Overton where she remained on the couch, and through the French doors. I took a left where the path forked, vaguely aware of Coco following behind me, and let myself into the hedge-protected fortress, falling onto the bench and breathing rapidly. I was setting up expectations I had no business creating, and I was going to be let down. I needed to harden the wall around my heart. And I needed to do it thoroughly.

  Chapter 13

  “Shall we begin?” I said, finishing my tea and setting the cup on the tray.

  Mrs. Overton glanced up from her own tea. She was not nearly finished and I swallowed my urgency. There was no rush to fix up the house, of course. Daniel had said himself the walls were sturdy. The morning room itself only needed new paint. But the undertaking would give me ample purpose and an excuse to spend hours upstairs. An added benefit when I was doing my utmost to install distance between my steward and myself. I liked the man, of course, but that was the problem. Filling my mind with wallpaper and new furniture would leave little room to think of Daniel, surely.

  “I suppose we can wait a few more minutes. I am only eager to begin,” I explained.

  “Begin what, dear?” she asked softly.

  “Fixing up the guest bedrooms. I am sure there are more areas of the house which need attention but I feel we should start there. The whole floor above my bedchamber is in disrepair.”

  She set her cup down and pulled herself to stand. “Let us go.”

  We made our way to the correct floor and decided to check each room once together and determine where to begin. By the time we reached the other end of the hall I had a list so long of things to acquire that I wondered at the wisdom of this project. Surely I did not have sufficient need to house quite so many people in my guest rooms. Perhaps if we chose one or two rooms to get us started, the rest would occur in time.

  “This is quite the undertaking,” Mrs. Overton said as we stood in the bedroom at the far end of the hall. The wallpaper was peeling and the fireplace was particularly dirty. A bed sat in the center of the far wall, but the flimsy design had fallen to the floor the moment I rested on its edge. I could only be grateful it was I and not Mrs. Overton who had taken that fated seat. “This sort of neglect takes years to achieve. It had to have begun before your grandmother’s time.”

  “I can only imagine that she hadn’t seen the need.” I shrugged, trying to avoid rubbing my rear end where I’d fallen from the bed frame and landed on the floor. “I did not know her.”

  “Shall we return downstairs and begin a list?”

  I followed her from the room. We installed ourselves in the morning room once again and Mrs. Overton pulled the bell.

  “It is perhaps too large an undertaking, but I should like to see Corden Hall restored to its former glory. It is such a shame the house is not fit for company.”

  The dark-haired maid came in and stood, waiting expectantly.

  “I gave Mrs. Lewis my particular tea blend,” Mrs. Overton said. “I should like some now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She turned away and I waited for Mrs. Overton to explain herself, but the room remained silent as she picked up her sewing basket instead and pulled a length of cloth from it.

  I pulled my own basket from beneath the sofa and picked up an embroidery I was nearly finished with. When the maid returned with the tea, I awaited Mrs. Overton’s polite offer to share, but she did not satisfy my curiosity. I watched her a moment. Would it be uncouth to request it? The special blend implied a host of different things. She could merely be picky in regard to her taste. Or, it could mean something more.

  She sipped her tea placidly while I focused on the small lavender blossoms I was attempting to stitch.

  “I have just come from the Tomlinson farm,” Daniel said, sweeping into the room and dropping into a chair opposite our sofa. “And I fear the problem only grows.”

  “The roof?” I inquired.

  “No, he has begun repairs on his roof. It is his goat, Shelley. He claims Halsey, from the other side of his property line, has stolen the goat.”

  I could not help but be confused. Daniel had explained some of the tenant disputes in our letters. But I did not recall this one. “Can he not simply ask for his goat back?”

  “But that is the rub. They are both claiming the goat is rightly theirs.”

  “Who is in possession of the goat now?”

  Daniel rubbed a hand over his face. “Halsey.” He looked tired, though his smile was ever present. Was he sleeping well in the stable? “You need not concern yourself. I will sort through this.”

  “I should like to meet Mr. Halsey. Unless I did already?”

  “You have not. He was not out when we took our tour.”

  I nodded. It was as I had thought. Daniel was employed for this very purpose, and I did not need to go and fix this issue. But perhaps I could. I had heard the Tomlinson name enough by now to realize the man had a penchant for arguments. Yet, he had been pleasant enough to me.

  “Miss Hurst has begun a rather large project upstairs,” Mrs. Overton said, breaking my musings.

  “Oh?”

  “She intends to repair the guest rooms.”

  Daniel appraised me, his eyebrows raised. “That is quite the undertaking. How do you plan to proceed?”

  “One step at a time,” I explained. “I should like to send out for most of the things I wish to acquire. But I am sure I can find a man in Linshire to repair a good deal of the furniture. We need not replace everything.”

  “You might not need to order anything either,” he said, a smile growing on his lips. “Come, I’ve something to show you.”

  I remained seated, his earnest anticipation causing my breath to catch.

  “It will not take long,” he explained, standing. “Mrs. Overton?”

  She glanced between us. “How far is it?”

  He tilted his head regretfully. “Past the servants’ quarters. Perhaps it is best if you do not come.”

  “I’m afraid the last hour has worn me out. I should rest before our dinner this evening.”

  Her face was pale and drawn. How horrible of me not to notice before. The woman was older, and she indeed seemed piqued. I would need to come up with a better system as our project moved forward.

  I stood, clasping my hands together. “Lead the way, sir.”

  Daniel led me up three flights of stairs toward a small door at the far end of the hall. “I discovered this in my initial inventory of the house.”

  I nodded. He stepped in first, and I followed him up the dim stairs. Light swirled above our heads, highlighting floating dust parti
cles through the dormer windows. The slanted roof forced me to bend so as not to hit my head, and I followed Daniel to the taller side of the room.

  He swept his arm forward, indicating a multitude of sheets covering lumps of various shapes and sizes.

  “Daniel,” I said, tamping down my smile. “You do realize I cannot see what is under the sheets, yes?”

  He chuckled. He drew away a few of the sheets nearest us and I gasped. It was an entire bed frame in a gaudy, Baroque style. Beside it, he unveiled a wardrobe in matching style and a small table.

  “It is enough furniture to fill a bedroom.”

  “Precisely,” he agreed.

  “Is all of this furniture?”

  He nodded. “Most of it is. It is enough to get you started, at least.”

  “Yes. More than enough.”

  I turned to Daniel, surprised to find him grinning at me. “It looks familiar. Where have I seen it before?”

  “My bedchamber,” he answered. “It had matched the rest of the floor before I made a few small changes.”

  “Changes for the better,” I said. “You saved me from doing that one room. But how am I to get everything down?”

  “You do employ a multitude of servants, Freya.”

  I laughed. Of course, the servants.

  “Shall we begin?” he asked.

  That was not part of my plan. The point of this plan was to use this project to put more space between Daniel and myself. “I am sure you have too much on your plate already. You needn’t bother yourself with this.”

  “I enjoy it,” he said softly, gazing into my eyes with a gentleness that caused my breathing to quicken. I needed to get out of the cramped attic promptly.

  I stepped back. “Surely Tomlinson and Halsey will be enough of a chore for the time being.”

  “I have a feeling they will sort through their issues right away after receiving a word from the mistress of Corden Hall.”

  I had said I would speak to them, hadn’t I?

  I was stuck. I turned away, moving toward the stairs with purpose. I could hear Daniel replacing the sheets behind me as I descended the stairs.