When Fynn directed Herman to turn toward the village instead of continuing toward Mantock Manor, I had to break my silence.
“This is the wrong way.”
“I have to stop by the blacksmith’s to pick up a round of nails for Papa.”
I didn’t argue. The blacksmith was near the edge of the village closest to us. It wouldn’t take long to make the stop.
We pulled up in front of the smithy, and Fynn jumped down to go in search of Jeffrey. I could hear the pounding of a hammer against an anvil and knew it might take a few minutes for Jeffrey to be at a stopping point where he could help Fynn. Hopefully Zander was about and could speed things along. I needed to get to Mantock Manor before sundown.
“Hello there, Miss Kinley.”
I lifted my eyes and saw Zander walking toward me, probably returning from a delivery in the village. “Good afternoon, Zander.”
“Are you well?” he asked with a look of concern as he drew closer.
“As well as can be expected.”
He nodded his head toward my lap, where I clutched my pathetic bundle of clothing. “And what’s that you’ve got there?”
“My belongings,” I answered, trying to keep the melancholy from my voice.
His brow pulled down. “Why?”
“I’m headed to a new job.”
Concern and surprise crossed his eyes, until realization took their place. “Because of the fire?”
I could only nod, swallowing the painful knot in my throat.
“Where is it you’re headed?”
“Mantock Manor.”
“I’m sorry you’ll be going so far. I don’t imagine we’ll be seeing you much around the village anymore.”
I shook my head, the numbness still nestled in my chest. “Only on my days off.”
Fynn returned to the wagon with a package under his arm and Jeffrey trailing behind him. Zander and I fell silent as the two exchanged a few words and shook hands. Fynn jumped up on the seat and took the reins from me.
Zander caught my eye as he took a step back. “Take care of yourself, Kinley.”
I forced my lips to curve into some semblance of a smile and nodded. “And you.”
The wagon jolted into motion, and I set my sights on the road ahead. I had been so sure of my plans, but the farther we traveled, the more I doubted myself. Perhaps I should have let Gavin help, or even Rylan. Maybe if I had had a chance to talk with Rylan more, he and I would have found a solution. But I’d been working with Gavin for the past week, making it impossible for him to drop by the orchard for a visit. Still, I had expected to at least see him riding by or trying to catch my attention somehow. However, as far as I could tell, he had been entirely absent.
I thought back on the note that I had stuck in the crevice of a tree in the hopes that Rylan would find it. There was a good chance that it would be blown away or picked up by someone else, but I had to try. I couldn’t very well tell my family to give the noble Rylander Baylor a message for me if he happened to stop by. So instead, I had penned a short note. I should have been straightforward, saying I was going into service because it was necessary, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to write the words. These last few years of working in the orchard had spoiled me, and I was ashamed to admit how much the idea of going into service grated on me. It had to be done—I knew that—but that didn’t mean that Rylan had to know about it. So I told him some of the truth, that I would be finding other work to do, and that our opportunities to meet would be few, if they occurred at all. I thanked him for everything and signed it with the name he had taught me to spell.
I worried about the conclusions he might draw if he didn’t find it. No matter what our more complicated feelings might be for each other, I knew that we were friends—good friends. And a good friend—especially one who had kissed me—certainly deserved better than me disappearing without an explanation.
✼ ✼ ✼
I trailed after the housemistress, Mrs. Tate, for the first two days, learning my duties. They were many, though none were particularly difficult. I was tasked with keeping the various drawing and sitting rooms organized, as well as the library. A significant amount of my instruction involved memorizing where everything belonged in each room. I would need to ensure that they were always presentable, which meant knowing precisely where the furniture was supposed to sit, as well as where each book, lamp, writing set, and needlework basket belonged. I would need to wait at table, to be sure that the family had everything they needed for each meal, as well as serve refreshments when guests came.
Being presentable myself was essential. When I had worked at Baylor Manor, I was nearly always in the kitchens, hidden from the view of any guests, thus my appearance had never been a concern. But now I was often in view of the family and other visitors, so I had to be sure to arise early enough to make myself neat and presentable. Mrs. Tate lectured me extensively on that point, her eyes critical and her tone severe. Perhaps she spoke to all the new help in such a manner, but I suspected that she blatantly disliked me. I did my best not to let that bother me and determined to prove my worth.
In order to anticipate the needs of the family, I did my best to familiarize myself with Lord and Lady Mantock and their children. Though when I say children, it brings to mind girls in frilly frocks and boys with trousers that need constant mending at the knee. In truth, the Mantock children were not children at all. The youngest was Miss Aveline, and she was only a year younger than I was. She was dark-haired and wide-eyed and chattered almost constantly. Her mother was always there to listen and respond, having taken a great interest in her daughter’s social prospects.
The Mantocks’ sons, Bram and Marcus, were in their twenties. Bram commanded any room he walked into, and Marcus kept to himself.
Mrs. Tate told me to ignore any and all gossip I might hear while the family was gathered at meals, but her warning was pointless. In the first few hours of serving in the Mantocks’ home, I had already been exposed to all sorts of gossip from nearly all the staff I encountered. How else were we to occupy ourselves during the drudgery of service?
That first week, I came to realize that Aveline was in love with nearly every eligible gentleman she encountered. Breakfast always left me privy to whatever woe or triumph Miss Aveline had encountered the day before. Her passionate speeches—both enthusiastic and melodramatic—made me want to smile, though I hid it very well. A servant would never be caught actively listening to the family’s private conversation.
In truth, I liked Aveline. She was dramatic, certainly, but she was never vicious or meanspirited.
“I do so hope that Mr. Weatherby will come to call,” she said on my eighth day of work.
Lord Mantock responded without looking up from his meal. “A man like Mr. Weatherby is far too busy to go traipsing about visiting young ladies.”
Aveline’s face fell, and Lady Mantock was quick to reassure her. “I’m certain he will come if he can make the time.”
“Doubtful,” Lord Mantock said, eyeing another forkful of ham. “He’s too sensible to waste his time on such endeavors.”
I watched from my position at the edge of the room as Lady Mantock held her smile in place while her eyes spit fire at her husband. “You think a gentleman courting our daughter is a wasted endeavor?” Her voice was decidedly cold.
His lordship finally raised his eyes and took in Aveline’s fallen countenance and his wife’s fury. He cleared his throat in the awkward silence before returning his attention to his plate. “Of course not. Any man would be lucky to catch Aveline’s attention.”
“But you just said—”
Lord Mantock held up his hands to ward off Aveline’s potential tantrum. “I only meant that he is a man with many responsibilities, and it would be difficult for him to focus on pursuing any young lady until he has his affairs well in hand, which at the moment he does not.”
Lady Mantock patted Aveline’s hand. “I’m sure your father is right. We will b
e happy to welcome him if he comes, but you must not take it as an affront if he does not find the time.”
Aveline put on a brave face and nodded.
I dropped my eyes and tried not to smile. I doubted Mr. Weatherby had any idea that he was supposed to be enamored with Miss Aveline. I would have felt sorry for him had I not been fairly certain that Aveline’s attention would be drawn to someone new by the time they encountered each other again.
Aveline and Lady Mantock started discussing what dress she should wear in the event that Mr. Weatherby did make an appearance. Lord Mantock let out a sigh, looking as if he’d narrowly escaped a dreaded fate.
Marcus wandered in a moment later, a letter in hand that he attempted to read even while filling his plate. Marcus was quiet and rarely called attention to himself. When he sat, I quickly picked up several bits of food that he had allowed to drop in his distraction, just in time to resume my place before Bram entered. He stopped inside the door, scanning the room. Bram wasn’t loud, but he had a presence that made one’s head turn. He carried himself with confidence and had the rare combination of nearly black hair with blue eyes. I was sure to look away before his perusal of the room brought his gaze to me. I watched his boots as he made his way to the sideboard, filling his plate with care and precision. Once he sat and started a conversation with his father, I looked over the table, ensuring that everyone had what they needed, then departed in silence, leaving the family to finish their meal.
I headed toward the sitting room, rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck as I did. Who knew it could be so exhausting to simply stand? The housemistress has assured me that I would get used to it. I didn’t know whether I hoped that was the case or not. On the one hand, it would be nice to feel less stiff. On the other, the idea of staying here long enough to build up a tolerance was disheartening. But I had made my choice, and I would deal with the outcome.
There were only a few things out of place when I reached the sitting room, and I made quick work of putting things to rights. Lady Mantock and Miss Aveline were good friends with Lady Ivory and her daughter Estelle, who lived on the neighboring estate. They were likely to come visiting this morning, so it was best to take care of this room first. As I was finishing, Mrs. Tate came in, looking over the room with a critical eye. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the windows. “Why are the curtains not drawn?”
“I was getting to that, ma’am.”
Her brow rose, a hint of disdain creeping across her face. “Then I suggest you get on with it.”
I fought the urge to defend myself and instead lowered my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Be sure to check the library next. Bram has a meeting with his man of business, and he likes to do that in the library.”
That task was already next on my list. “Yes, madam.” I curtsied, and she left. As I pulled back the curtains, I made certain that they fell in neat folds, then looked around the room once more, adjusting the position of a lamp and straightening a rug before making my way to the library.
This was my favorite room. It reminded me of visiting Rylan in his library so many years ago. It reminded me of learning to read and write. It made me miss Rylan.
I had checked this room early this morning, as I did every day, but I knew that Bram liked to occupy this room at odd hours—before breakfast or in the middle of the night. He seemed to be a habitually neat person, so there was never much to do, but I liked to linger anyway, reading a few book titles and appreciating the large reading chair that practically swallowed me when I sat in it. I would need to dust the shelves soon, but for today, I filled the inkwell and replaced a broken quill, then let my gaze caress the bookshelves one last time before moving on. The family would be finished with breakfast soon, and I would need to attend to the cleanup of the dining room.
✼ ✼ ✼
I finished my tenth day of work feeling wrung out and only a little satisfied. I did my best to focus on the satisfaction. The last thing I wanted was to spend my day off dreading the moment when I would come back. However, it was difficult to want to return when Mrs. Tate had taken it upon herself to criticize every task I performed.
When the sun was starting to set, I returned to my small room and threw a couple of things into a satchel, then pulled my shawl around my shoulders before making a hasty escape. Perhaps it would have been wiser to stay the night and wait for Fynn to come for me in the morning, but I couldn’t do it. Now that I was officially off duty, I couldn’t care that my feet were worn out or that my upper back ached terribly from standing at the ready for so many hours a day. I was determined to walk home and sleep in my own bed.
I walked quickly, making it to the edge of the Mantocks’ land by the time the sun slipped behind the hills. The daylight was entirely gone as I passed the village, and I was grateful for the bright moon, which was nearly full. Even so, as I turned down the road that would take an hour to walk before I reached my home, a thread of unease wound around me. The night was a bit too dark and quiet for my comfort, but I did my best to shake it off and quicken my step. I had traversed this road countless times after village dances, and while I was alone this time, that didn’t mean I needed to conjure fears from the night air.
When I reached the edge of my orchard, I abandoned the road and was welcomed by the trees. There was less light, but I felt more secure in this familiar space, despite the changes wrought by the fire. I also held on to the hope that I would find a note from Rylan resting in the same spot where I had left my own note. The chance was slim, but I would never rest if I didn’t check first.
My feet were jogging by the time I approached the spot where I had left my little missive. I circled the tree, slightly breathless, my eyes roving the groove where I had left the paper. It was empty.
I frowned. If it was gone, did that mean he had found it? And if he had, why did he not replace it with a message of his own? I eyed the surrounding trees and searched the ground, but there was nothing. Sighing in defeat, I made my way through the rest of the orchard, deep in thought.
“What are you doing here?” I nearly jumped out of my skin when the voice called out as I was passing the barn.
“Saints above!” I threw a hand over my startled heart and turned to Gavin, who was coming out of the barn. “I could ask you the same thing.” He no longer lived here, after all.
“I came to see if there was anything I could do to repair the barn.”
“And how is that going now that the sun has been down for several hours?”
He grinned. He had always found my sass amusing. “I came at noon, then Mama had me stay for dinner.”
“Of course.”
“I was just saddling my horse when I saw you wandering by.” His look was a reprimand. “Please tell me you didn’t walk all the way home from the Mantocks’.”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t bring myself to stay longer than I had to.”
“I’m certain Papa will be thrilled to know that you walked for miles in the dead of night.”
I rolled my eyes. I was too exhausted to argue, especially with Gavin. “It’s not the dead of night.”
“Papa won’t see it that way.”
“What’s done is done. I’m tired.” As soon as I said it, I could feel my body sag, as if acknowledging the truth of it. “I’m going in.”
I turned, but Gavin stopped me with his next words. “Someone left this in the orchard.”
I froze, hope leaping to my heart. I spun around, my eyes immediately landing on the folded paper that Gavin held out toward me. I rushed forward, snatching it from his hands and turning it to examine the seal.
Rylan.
“I assume it’s from the book repairman?” Gavin remarked.
“You know his name.” I crossed my arms over my middle, the little note cradled in my hand. “And yes, it’s from him.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Secret notes left in a tree?”
“We’re friends. I didn’t want to worry him by disappearing withou
t a trace.”
He dipped his head, accepting my reason. When he looked up again, his face was decidedly worried. “Kinley . . .”
“What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“Rylander might not be . . . as wonderful as you might like to think.”
My eyebrows shot up before I narrowed my gaze on him. “Don’t talk in riddles. Rowen said something like that to me a long time ago. Please explain and be blunt. I’m tired.”
He gave a sigh, and I was tempted to snap at him, but I bit my tongue, refraining from reminding him that I didn’t ask him to poke his nose into my friendship with Rylan. I never got angry with Gavin, and I didn’t want to start now.
“When you showed us the book, it was clear you had formed an attachment to him.”
I almost snorted at his formal speech. Ella had certainly rubbed off on him.
“I started asking around, trying to determine what sort of a gentleman he was and if he had a reputation.” He frowned in concern but didn’t go on until I speared him with an “And?” look. “It seems he’s known as a sort of odd man. He isn’t seen all that often in society.”
“Oh, how terrible,” I said in a monotone.
Gavin rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s not what concerns me. What does concern me is that despite his being averse to the trappings of society, in these last several weeks, he’s suddenly been seen at several social gatherings with a lady on his arm.” The look of concern was back, as if he expected me to cry.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What kind of lady?”
He realized what I was asking and waved it aside. “The respectable kind,” he reassured me. “And honestly, he’s only been seen doing respectable things, but with the way you two had been getting along lately . . . you must admit it’s odd.” His look was pitying, which I hated. “For anyone else, it might seem the regular thing, but for Mr. Baylor, it appears as though he is earnestly courting this girl.”
Keeping Kinley Page 16