To Release an Earl

by Ilene Withers

  Marty had dressed in trousers for the day and hoped it wouldn't shock him too much. When she had mentioned it, he hadn't seemed to be outraged, and it was difficult to traipse all over the pastures and throughout the barns in a gown. Furthermore, Marty had long since passed the point of caring what others thought about how she dressed. She was known as an eccentric, but it was not something which bothered her.

  Marty had arranged for her cook to prepare a hearty luncheon for the two of them. Menus were not something she cared about, so she left the choice of what to serve up to her competent housekeeper and cook. Her farm manager had been warned to make sure the farm looked its best. The thought of a broken fence or a shoddy stall door made her shudder.

  The butler approached as she sat in the library awaiting the earl's arrival with anticipation. Drake cleared his throat, "The Earl of Roydon has arrived, Miss." Marty rose and smiled at the aging man. "Thank you, Drake." She led the way through the library door and into the hall where the earl waited. Remembering his request to use his Christian name, she greeted him with an extended hand and a warm "Hello, John!"

  John took her hand in his, "Miss Marty, what a delight it is to see you again."

  Marty became aware of Drake standing behind her, holding the short-waisted coat she often wore outside. She slipped into it with his help and then buttoned the coat. "I do hope I have not shocked you too much by wearing my trousers," she spoke to John.

  Marty watched as his eyes glanced over her slender body. "Not at all," he said. "I must admit I would not want to work an estate in a gown. I cannot expect you to."

  Marty took her bonnet from the butler and set it atop her head, tying the bow beneath her chin. It was a bit silly with the trousers, she knew, but it was a feminine version of a top hat and less silly than many bonnets would be. She had not slipped so far into eccentricity she did not still care for her skin. Drake opened the heavy front door for them as she moved toward it.

  "Shall we start out on horseback?" she asked the earl.

  "That would be nice," he agreed. "One of your grooms took my horse to the stables and told me he would water the horse before we venture back out."

  "This way, then." Marty indicated the stables, which were the closest outbuilding to the house.

  "Will you ride astride?" John asked her, a curious but nonjudgmental tone to his voice.

  "Yes, I prefer to," Marty admitted, "but will also ride side-saddle when others would be put off by my riding like a man."

  "Well, I won't be," he stated.

  "How is your fiancée?"

  "She is a little better. Not physically, there has been no change. However, two Bath chairs were delivered yesterday, so she has been able to escape the bedchamber. We visited the stables to see her horse and then spent time outside in one of the gardens. It gave her a mental boost which was sorely needed."

  "Yes, it should have. I would need to be out and about even if I could no longer walk." Marty led the way into the stables where John's horse waited beside her own. A groom stepped forward and cupped his hands to give her a boost into the saddle. John mounted, and they rode out of the building and back into the autumn sun.

  As they toured the farm Marty pointed out various pastures, talked about the cows, and described the watering system.

  "I have heard Angus doddies can have a bit of a temper," John remarked.

  Marty laughed. "Oh, at times, they can have quite a temper!" She rode on a bit and then continued, "They are the best mothers, though. The cows look after the calves far better than many other breeds. They also give an exceptionally rich milk even though they are not a milking breed."

  "I have heard that," John said. "And by looking at your last spring's crop of calves I would say it is true. They are sleek and healthy and good sized animals. It appears you are indeed an expert in animal husbandry, Miss Marty."

  Marty was filled with pride. "Thank you, John. It means a lot to me coming from someone with your reputation."

  When they finished touring the pastures, they rode back to the stable and dismounted. "Cook should have luncheon ready for us," she told John. "I'm afraid we don't stand on ceremony much here, so it will be quite casual."

  "I admit to being hungry," he replied. "I should wash up a bit first though."

  "I always wash up right here in the stables," she told him, leading him to a shelf along the wall where a washbasin and a hand pump waited for use.

  John insisted she wash first, and then he washed afterward, brushing her hand as he reached for the towel.

  "Shall we go to the house?" Marty asked with a smile. As she led the way, she allowed herself a few minutes to contemplate how wonderful it was to have a new friend, and especially a peer. So often, those she had anything in common with were males, but of lower social standing, who were often put off by a woman who ran a farm.

  As they arrived at the house, the butler swung the door open as though he were watching for them. Drake took Marty's coat and bonnet, and then went to help John. "Luncheon will be served whenever you are ready, Miss."

  In the dining room, once they were seated, Marty nodded to the waiting footman who served glasses of ale and a hearty beef stew with warm loaves of bread. "This is the type of meal I enjoy the most," John told her. The footman’s continuous presence lent an air of respectability to the intimacy of their dining alone.

  Marty was hungry and ate with gusto, not worrying about what her new friend might think of her appetite. She worked hard and had no difficulty keeping her figure. "Cook has a treat for us to finish off our meal," she announced. "She told me she was planning on baking a fresh apple pie."

  John raised his head and grinned. "Wonderful! I do hope you will give her my compliments."

  "Of course," Marty said. "I often pass on my own compliments to her."

  The meal passed with genial conversation about the challenges and rewards of farming. Even the butler was seen with a slight smile gracing his lips as the two laughed over the apple pie.

  After the meal, they toured the outbuildings on foot. John admired the birthing barn, even though it was not in use at this time of year. He inspected the half dozen bulls which were kept in a fenced area near the barns. As they stepped out of the last barn, John took her gloved hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Miss Marty, today has been an exceptional one. I cannot express how much I have enjoyed it. And while it is time for me to take my leave, I promise you will see me again soon."

  ****

  The day had been dull. Willa had listened to Fayre practice the pianoforte. She had started a new stitching project, something she wasn’t fond of doing even though she knew her life might now be reduced to it. The viscountess had gone to the village and come back with a stack of books which the vicar’s wife was willing to loan to Willa. Willa selected one of them and had managed to read one chapter before slamming it shut and choosing, instead, to stare out the window of the morning parlour.

  “I wonder where John went today,” she commented aloud.

  The young maid who was busy with the morning tea hesitated in her work. Fayre said, “I don’t know.”

  Willa contemplated the maid. “You know, don’t you, Penny?”

  “His valet said he had ridden over to tour Townsend Farms,” came the answer.

  Townsend Farms. Miss Marty ran her brother’s farm and John had gone to spend the day with her. Willa wasn’t sure what to think. Townsend Farms was a well run local estate which John would be interested in touring. On the other hand, Miss Marty was an attractive woman who was close in age to John, single, and who shared many interests with Willa’s fiancé.

  Upon hearing how John had visited Miss Marty, Willa found herself in an even worse mood for the day. Over and over, she kept thinking about how much the two had in common. How pretty Miss Marty was, how intelligent, how good with animals. Combined with that were thoughts about herself. She was paralyzed and trapped in her Bath chair, having to be lifted and carried from one place to another. The doctor’s words
of how she not dare risk getting with child rang loudly in her memory. Knowing she could no longer share John’s love of riding did not sit well with her at all.

  John no doubt felt trapped, Willa decided by mid-afternoon. Engaged to a paralyzed woman, he couldn’t easily end their engagement without being ruined socially. She could, however. Willa could release the earl from their agreement. The question arose in her mind as to whether she loved him enough to do what was best for him.

  Fayre noticed her mood and tried to be as jovial as possible, attempting to lift her cousin’s spirits. But nothing the younger girl did could nudge Willa out of her thoughts. By teatime, she was still in a quandary. She did love John, but was she unselfish enough to release him from their engagement? Furthermore, if she did so, it would require giving him a shove. Yes, she would have to force him to see how this would be better for him, because Willa was confident he would state he was happy in their relationship now. John and Miss Marty would be perfect together. They could ride neck-or-nothing through pastures filled with fat cows. Together they could have numerous babies, raising them on John’s estate to be happy and healthy. Deciding she needed to see them together, Willa began to plot.

  And so at teatime, when her mother commented on how quiet she was, Willa replied. “I’m sorry, Mother, but spending time in this chair makes for a dull day. I was thinking perhaps we could have a small dinner party. The neighborhood has no doubt heard about my accident and even my condition. Why not introduce them to it firsthand? Besides, while I love all of you, I would enjoy seeing someone from outside our estate.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” the viscountess replied. “In fact, perhaps you would like to take on the planning. Fayre can assist you.”

  “Do you mean we would draw up the guest list, send out the invitations, and work with the staff to plan the menu and make sure all goes off well?” Willa queried.

  “That’s correct. It will give you the experience needed for when you have your own home to run.”

  Willa didn’t think she would ever run her own home. However, she would need the experience to aid her mother as the other woman aged.

  “I would like it. You will help me won’t you, Fayre?”

  The younger girl was practically bouncing in her chair with enthusiasm. “You know I will.”

  ****

  John found himself in a good mood riding back to the Amhearst’s estate. He had recognized a burgeoning respect for Miss Marty as he rode around her estate, admiring her land management and animal husbandry skills. Plus, carrying on a conversation with her over a hearty and delicious luncheon had made the meal unusually good. Now his thoughts swung to Willa. He felt bad leaving her behind today, but the truth was traveling with her would be difficult. If she had any hopes of recovery, jostling her spine in a carriage or buggy would not do it any good. Glad she had her younger cousin there to keep her company, John hoped she had had a good day.

  Once he had handed his horse over to one of the grooms, he strode to the house where the butler admitted him. It was nearing dinner time, so John went to his room to clean up and change. Martin was waiting for him.

  “I hope you had a good day, my lord,” his valet said.

  “A wonderful day.”

  “I am glad. I had quite an interesting day myself,” his man ventured.

  John looked up sharply. “Did you have a chance to investigate a bit?”

  “Yes, my lord. I made sure to sit next to the new nurse at luncheon.”

  “And?”

  “I asked a number of conversational questions about her past, and her answers were evasive at best.”

  “What was the sense you got from them?” John asked.

  “As you have passed on your medical articles to me to enjoy ever since I expressed an interest in them, I feel I am somewhat knowledgeable on the subject.”

  “Yes.”

  “I suspect she has never been a nurse. I have picked up enough from those articles to know I would be far more qualified to serve in a nursing capacity than she is.”

  “I was afraid of that,” John returned. “As I stated, there is something about her eyes.”

  “Yes, my lord, you are correct. They are shifty and dart from left to right. She rarely looks directly at you when she is speaking.”

  “Let us keep an eye on her,” John said. “I don’t suppose we can accuse her of anything when Lady Amhearst hired her and the nurse provided references. However, I will ask if perhaps Lady Amhearst has thought about writing to check those references.”

  A half hour later, John was wearing casual evening wear and had made his way downstairs hoping Willa was already waiting. Indeed, she was ensconced in the Bath chair in the drawing room dressed in a pretty yellow gown with her hair in tendrils framing her face. “Good evening, Willa,” he greeted her.

  Willa smiled at him in return. “Did you have a good day on your adventure, John?”

  “I did,” he replied without offering an explanation of his absence. “I rode my horse rather than taking the buggy, and it was a delightful autumn day. Did you get outside for a while?”

  “Yes, Fayre and I spent time in the garden doing some planning.”

  “What were you planning?”

  “I am bored, and Mother has told me we can host a dinner party for a few of the neighbors.”

  John smiled. “What a wonderful idea,” he said. “Since my stay has been unexpectedly long, perhaps I should send for a larger wardrobe so I have some better evening clothes. When will it be?”

  “A week hence.”

  John sat on a chair near her and reached for her hand. “Tell me what you have planned.”

  He listened as she described the menu and entertainment. “Fayre will entertain us on the pianoforte, and I daresay several of us will be happy to sing along.”

  “No doubt,” he agreed.

  “And cards. We’ll have cards and perhaps parlour games. No dancing, I’m afraid.”

  “I believe many people will enjoy the games more than the dancing,” John assured her. “How many are you inviting?”

  “Not many,” Willa replied. “The Hampsteads will be invited. They have a son who is not much older than Fayre. Then we’ll invite the vicar and his wife, old Mr. Patton, the Sheffields. Oh, and Matilda Robinson,” she added with her eyes on his face.

  John almost squirmed in the chair under Willa’s scrutiny. Had she learned where he had gone? He did not want her to suspect someone was trying to harm her, so explaining how he had gone to Townsend Farms to ask Miss Marty about lupine poisoning was not something he wanted to get into. After all, she had enough to worry about without being suspicious of everyone she came into contact with.

  On the following day, John decided to ride into the village to post a letter to his mother. He had, of course, updated her on Willa’s situation. This was yet another update, but also a plea for her to send one of the grooms to the Amhearst estate with more clothing for him. At this time he did not plan to return home in the foreseeable future. He could not do so until he knew Willa was safe.

  The wind had become brisk, and Pirate, whom he was riding, was quite frisky, “feeling his oats,” as the saying went. Clouds were building in the west, and John realized they were in for a storm. No doubt it would arrive much later in the day, but having no wish to get drenched, he gently touched his boot to Pirate’s flank and urged the horse to an even quicker pace.

  In the village he mailed his letter and then, leaving Pirate in the hands of an urchin who was dallying on the street, he stepped into one of the shops in search for a small gift for Willa – something to make her smile. He browsed for a short while until his eye was caught by a lady’s fan. A smile curved his lips as he thought about a time in the park when Willa and her cousin Claire had played a rather delightful but infuriating game with their fan when they were trying to investigate the blackmail scheme Claire had fallen victim to. That fan had been ivory. This fan had ivory slats, but the fabric between was delicate, almost
translucent. Woven in a deep burnished gold color, it was decorated with autumn leaves and flowers. After catching the eye of the shopkeeper, John purchased it and tucked it into the inner pocket of his greatcoat before retrieving Willa’s horse and turning back toward her home.

  As he walked in the house, he asked the butler where Willa was. “She is in her chamber, my lord.”

  John took the stairs two at a time and knocked discreetly on the door. Her maid opened the door. He could see her lying on her bed, dressed, but covered with a throw. “Is she okay?”

  “I believe her back is aching, my lord.” She stood back and bade him enter. He noticed the nurse hovering nearby.

  As he approached her bed, Willa’s eyes opened. “John,” she said weakly.

  “Molly said your back is aching,” he said without preamble.

  “It is, much worse than usual.”

  “Have you taken anything for the pain?”

  “No, Nancy is trying to get me to take some laudanum, but you know I hate how it makes me feel.”

  “Yes, I realize it will make you sleep, but perhaps it would be the best thing for you.”

  “Maybe later.” Willa reached her hand out and touched the brown wrapped parcel. “What do you have there?”

  John remembered the gift he had purchased her. “A gift for you, my dear.”

  Willa smiled. “May I open it?”

  “Of course you may.” He handed it to her and watched as she untied the string from the paper.

  “It’s beautiful!” John enjoyed her obvious delight in the fan and told her of the memory it had brought up.

  “We were so desperate at the time,” Willa said. “I’m sure both you and the duke thought we were a couple of silly geese.”

  “We did find you a bit frustrating,” he admitted. After a moment he continued. “Why don’t I let you rest, and then I’ll have them deliver dinner for the two of us to your room, and I’ll spend the evening with you. There’s a storm brewing outside, which may be why your back hurts worse than usual. Pirate sensed it coming in and was quite frisky today.”