Keeping Kinley

by Annette K. Larsen

  My lips pursed and twisted to the side, and I felt my brow scrunch up. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all. I took a breath, hoping to find words to defend him, to explain it away, but they wouldn’t come. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  His shoulders fell. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head and forced a smile. “It’s fine. We’re only friends.”

  He quirked his head in disbelief. I couldn’t blame him. The false note in my voice had been obvious. I thought about the note tucked into my hand. Why write to me while he was gallivanting about with another lady? He wasn’t the type. It wasn’t just that I didn’t think he was the type; it was that he really, truly wasn’t the type. I shook my head. “You said yourself he’s odd. I’m certain there is some sort of odd explanation for it all.”

  “I hope so.” He fixed me with one more look of concern, then nodded toward the house. “Best get inside. I don’t envy you the tongue lashing you’ll get for walking home at this hour.”

  “I’ll survive.”

  He walked back toward the barn, throwing a “Take care of yourself” over his shoulder.

  I waved and crossed to the front door, shoving at it with my shoulder when it stuck.

  “Gavin?” my mother called from the back room. “Did you forget something?”

  “It’s me, Mama.”

  There was an abrupt scraping of chair against floor before she appeared in the doorway.

  Gavin had been right. I was soundly reprimanded by both of my parents. If I’d had the energy, I might have argued that I was old enough to make my own decisions, but in the end, my exhaustion was so obvious that they let me go to bed.

  I closed my bedroom door, and as much as my body wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, I lit a lamp instead and opened the note Rylan had left. Cradled within the folds, I found a small object. I picked it up and moved closer to my lamp. I couldn’t help the lovesick sigh that escaped me when I saw that it was a seashell. A perfect little seashell swirled with cream and pink. I turned it over and admired the pearl shine of the inside. Then I read the note.

  Kinley,

  I’m sorry for everything you are enduring. I will miss working beside you, and I hope to find the chance to see you soon. I wish you all the best.

  I know how much you wish to see the ocean, so I thought I’d bring a bit of the ocean to you.

  Yours,

  Rylan

  I fell back onto my bed, the note still pinched between my fingers, and breathed deep, trying not to cry. It was exhaustion that overwhelmed me, that was all. I was certain that once I became used to the work, I would be fine, but at that moment, I had had enough of pleasing those around me. Enough of standing at attention, ready to jump into action should someone need me, enough of pretending I didn’t exist. But I existed to Rylan. He knew who I was. He’d even remembered my longing to see the ocean. For the thousandth time, I cursed the fire that had destroyed my tiny world of contentment.

  The orchard had spoiled me, and I wanted it back.

  Chapter Fourteen

  DESPITE THE SUSPICIONS Gavin had cast over Rylan’s character, I awoke the next morning with a sense of calm. Last night, when Gavin had first spoken of it, it had seemed a terrible blow that Rylan would be seen with another young lady. However, in the light of day, and with Rylan’s note and little gift in my possession, I realized there was likely an innocent explanation. If I could speak with Rylan, even for a few minutes, I was certain that he would have some amusing explanation, and we could have a good laugh over it all.

  Unfortunately, the likelihood of actually having a conversation with Rylan was slim. My days were no longer spent in the orchard or at market, so I really had no expectation of seeing him at all. It was disheartening to consider not seeing him regularly—especially now that it prevented him from being able to explain his actions—but there was nothing to be done about it. I determined to bide my time and not let rumors ruin my opinion of him. Whether or not our relationship was doomed to fail, he was still my friend, and I should not think ill of him.

  I visited with my father in his shop, and then we walked out to the orchard. His opinion was nearly the same as Gavin’s. The trees that had survived were few enough that I could care for them on my days off. Some branches and maybe some entire trees would be lost, but we would need to wait until we saw what kind of new growth came in next spring.

  “But you think they’ll recover?” I asked, anxious for reassurance.

  “I do,” he said without hesitation. “And I think most of these trees will only miss one harvest. The fire burned hot, which makes me think it had more to do with lightning than with Mr. Tanner. But it didn’t burn very long, thanks to the downpour.”

  “What about the barn?”

  “Fynn thinks it will only take him a few weeks to repair. And until then we’ll hope that no more storms come through while it’s unstable.” He spoke with confidence, but I could see the tension in his jaw. The uncertainty.

  I tried to ignore it and focus on the confidence of his words. Walking my father back to his shop took longer than going out to the orchard. His leg was tired, and I could see from his face that he was in a fair amount of pain by the time he sat down. It was another reminder of why I needed to continue working in service. My father needed all of our help.

  I visited Herman, fed the chickens, and went to check on the sheep grazing behind our house, counting to be sure they were all there. Then I went inside and asked my mother to put me to work. She did so without a word, and I spent the afternoon distracting myself from the changes that were staring me in the face.

  ✼ ✼ ✼

  Fynn pulled Herman to a stop outside the Mantock kitchens the next morning. My smile was forced, but I did it and even managed a friendly wave after I had jumped down. Fynn smiled but only for my sake. I wished he could have found a way to fake enthusiasm for my new job, especially since I was having such a hard time mustering any desire to continue.

  It was necessary. I told myself that several times a day. This was a sacrifice that I needed to make, that I was willing to make, because it would mean being able to return to my orchard. I had to believe that.

  I entered the kitchen, saying hello to the cook and nodding to the other servants. Climbing the servants’ stairs, I ran into Mrs. Tate.

  I smiled at her and moved to one side of the stairs to avoid a collision, but she stepped in front of me, forcing me to halt.

  “You are late, Kinley.”

  I blinked, perplexed. “Begging your pardon, madam, but I am not.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You are very nearly so, and that’s just as bad. I suggest you work on improving your punctuality.” With that, she lifted her chin and continued down the stairs, leaving me to wonder if I had given her some sort of offense.

  I shook my head and swallowed my frustration, then ran up the rest of the stairs and hurried to my room. I set my satchel on the bed and hung my cloak on the peg behind the door. Then I went to the bowl of water in the corner, splashing water on my face and scrubbing my hands to remove the dust from the drive. I pulled out a clean kerchief and tied it over my curls. I normally kept it in braids, but I didn’t dare take the time now that I knew Mrs. Tate was displeased with me. I tied on my apron and pulled back my shoulders, putting on my expression of practiced neutrality before leaving my small chamber.

  Breakfast preparations went smoothly, and I took my place, standing at the ready against one wall, prepared for the same mind-numbing conversation as usual.

  There was the same business discussion between Lord Mantock and Bram, and the same chattering from Aveline, until she landed on the topic of one Mr. Rylander Baylor.

  “And did you see, Mother, that Rylander Baylor was in attendance last night?”

  My fingers fumbled the lid of the sugar bowl, clattering as I tried to get it into place.

  The conversation continued without any acknowledgment of my clumsiness. “I did. And I eve
n had a chance to speak with his mother.”

  “Was she simply wonderful? Because he was a most charming man.”

  “She was lovely, and she spoke very highly of Rylander,” Lady Mantock replied.

  I couldn’t help but smile. Lady Baylor had always adored Rylan.

  “Are you speaking of Lord Baylor’s son?” Lord Mantock was suddenly interested in the conversation, which I found a bit astonishing.

  “Yes,” Lady Mantock answered. “His second son. Of course, Master Welsley was there as well, but that’s not unusual.”

  “I had never met Rylander Baylor before because he so seldom attends these things.” Aveline leaned in as she imparted her newly acquired knowledge. “Mara said she’s met him a time or two, and that he usually only makes a short appearance, even if he’s there with a young lady. But last evening he was there the entire time.”

  So what Gavin had heard was true. I wondered why Rylan was suddenly taking a greater interest in society.

  “Is that so?” Lord Mantock asked, though it was clear he was losing interest.

  “Yes!” Aveline enthused. “And you know that Mara attends absolutely everything and knows absolutely everyone. Do you realize what this means?”

  “I would assume it means he’s ready to settle down,” Lord Mantock commented as he speared a bite of egg.

  “Precisely!”

  Lord Mantock gave her an indulgent smile but returned to his meal without further comment, so Aveline turned back to her mother. “Do you think he’ll call?”

  “Only time will tell. You have only met him once, after all.”

  And I doubted that she would meet him again. An entire evening out in society? I wondered what had prompted such drastic measures, but I couldn’t remain for the rest of the conversation. The family had all that they needed, and it was time for me to move on to my other duties until it was time to clear things away.

  Later that afternoon, Lady Ivory and Miss Estelle came for tea, and the four ladies launched into what would no doubt be an exhaustive rehearsal of the prior evening’s musicale.

  I tried to guess how long it would take them to bring up Rylan and had hardly made the wager with myself before they did exactly that.

  “We were just speaking this morning about our belief that Rylander Baylor seems ready to marry,” Lady Mantock said as she leaned forward with a meaningful raise of her brow.

  “Who?” Lady Ivory seemed to not recognize the name.

  “You remember, Mama. I pointed him out because I was surprised to see him paying such marked attention to Ginny Fairway.”

  The air in the room suddenly tensed. I wanted so badly to laugh at Aveline’s dramatic reaction. The jealousy that narrowed her eyes was comical, considering she had met Rylan only once. I felt badly for poor Miss Fairway, whoever she was. She likely had no idea that speaking with Rylan would cause such a stir.

  “Ginny Fairway?” Aveline lamented. “Do you think he fancies her?”

  “I don’t know that I would put it that way, but they seemed to get on well enough.” Estelle looked sorry that she was the bearer of such strangely disappointing news. “But I’m certain he’s only trying to be more social. After all, he can’t choose a wife if he doesn’t speak to at least a few young ladies.”

  “Well, that’s true.” Aveline was consoled, her mood instantly brightening at this little assurance. “I do hope he comes to the Sprinns’ harvest party next week. Do you think he will?”

  After Lady Mantock had responded sufficiently in the positive, they moved on to discussing the quality of the music performed.

  Poor Rylan. He had no idea that simply showing up at a musicale had put a target over his heart. One that Aveline Mantock was determined to hit. At least this week.

  I fell into bed that night, surprised that I was even more exhausted than I had been during my first week. Why was it so difficult? I was used to working, and in some ways my responsibilities in the Mantock household were less taxing than my work in the orchard.

  Yet the next night was the same and each night after. Lying there, five days after my day off, on the verge of tears, I realized that it wasn’t the physical labor. It was the emotional contortions that left me wrung out. Aveline’s infatuation with the idea of Rylander Baylor left him always at the forefront of my mind, and Mrs. Tate’s continued dislike of me made me unsure and paranoid, worried that she would find a reason to let me go. Part of me would have been relieved at such a prospect, but the rest of me—the rational part of me—knew that holding on to this job was not optional. I had to keep it. So I sucked down my emotions and forced myself to sleep.

  ✼ ✼ ✼

  Fynn came to fetch me home on my next day off, bringing Suzannah along, which was a most welcome surprise. I didn’t realize just how tired I was until I climbed onto the bench beside her. I gave her a hug and wanted nothing more than to lay my head on her shoulder and sleep for weeks.

  Her shoulders heaved, and she blew out a puff of air. “Whatever possessed you to take this position?”

  I lifted my head and gave her a worn smile. “Necessity?”

  Fynn snorted then grumbled something to himself, all of which I ignored.

  “I’m going to spend the day with you,” Suzannah announced.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Of course I am. I can’t let you go back there without telling me everything about it, and I’m certain that will take the entire day.” She grinned, and I smiled gratefully in return.

  Suzannah asked me about work, and I told her some of the ridiculous bits of gossip I’d been subjected to, thanks to the Mantock women.

  She told me about how boring it was being at market without me. “But Fynn was nice enough to help me out last week.” She cut her eyes over to him, and I could tell that his offer had been significant to her. It had given her hope.

  I glanced over at Fynn, who was wearing the same careless grin as usual. It worried me.

  When we pulled up beside the barn, Fynn helped us both down, then tipped his hat and winked at Suzannah before trotting off to do his chores.

  Suzannah let out a wistful sigh beside me as she watched him walk away.

  “Let’s go inside,” I suggested. “I’m certain Mama has something to eat waiting for us.”

  After eating, I picked up the mending basket and carried it to my room along with my satchel. From my satchel, I pulled out an apron with a rip in it and a skirt with a tattered hem.

  Suzannah inspected the hem. “This looks like it’s holding together well enough.”

  “Yes, but it looks unsightly, and I’ve received enough lectures on a neat appearance to know what it meant when the housemistress glared at the bottom of my skirt.”

  “Ah” was all Suzannah said before pawing through the basket for what she needed.

  We sat on my bed, our backs resting against the wall as we made repairs and caught up. I told her about Gavin’s warning and about the note that Rylan had left the last time I had returned home.

  She let the skirt drop to her lap. “What did it say?”

  I scooted off the bed and retrieved the note from the box under my bed and read it to her, then showed her the seashell.

  She stared at it for several moments with her brow furrowed before holding it up and looking at me. “This is not the gesture of a man who is toying with you.”

  “I agree, but it doesn’t make sense. Miss Aveline was talking about him the other day as if he were suddenly the most eligible bachelor, on the lookout for a quick marriage.”

  She tilted her head at me. “Is this the same Miss Aveline who has declared herself in love with three gentlemen since you started working there?”

  “I realize I can’t take anything she says to heart, but it’s not only her. It’s Ella’s guard. It’s my own brother. There is something happening with Rylan, and I have no idea what it could be.”

  She handed the shell back to me. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” I returne
d the note and shell to their box and climbed back on the bed to finish repairing the apron.

  We worked in silence for a while until Suzannah spoke, her voice quiet. “Sometimes I think Fynn might truly care for me, but other times it seems dreadfully obvious that he sees me as another little sister.”

  I gave her a sympathetic look, but I couldn’t contradict her.

  “I’ve told myself a hundred times that I need to forget about catching his eye, but then he’ll wink at me or flirt with me—”

  “He flirts with everyone, Suzannah. He’s my brother, and I love him, but he is a practiced flirt. Don’t let him break your heart.”

  Her face fell. “I thought you said that he was coming around.”

  “Is he?” I asked. “I thought that more than a month ago, and he hasn’t changed.”

  She dropped her hands to her lap, picking at the thread she’d stitched only a moment before. “So you think it’s hopeless?”

  “I just hate to see you spending so much time caring what he thinks. If he proves me wrong, I’ll be thrilled. But right now, he seems like the same foolish boy he’s always been.”

  She nodded, sniffing once and then returning to her mending with renewed vigor. I hoped I’d done the right thing. I didn’t want to speak unkindly of my brother, but I couldn’t stand by and let him hurt Suzannah, either.

  Mama came to fetch us for lunch, and I enjoyed sitting at the table with my parents and my best friend for a simple meal. I could relax and be myself. My smile came without effort, and when Fynn joined us, I found myself laughing without reserve.

  When lunch finished, Fynn returned to work on the barn and my father returned to his shop. Suzannah and I helped Mama to clean up, and then I asked her what else she needed help with.

  She surprised me by putting her hands on either side of my face and kissing my forehead before fixing her eyes on mine. “You’ve worked enough. Go outside and enjoy your day with Suzannah.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head and pointed to the door.

  I hesitated. “You’ll let me know if I can do anything?”