by John Edwards
After all had finished lunch, Elizabeth put the children down for a nap and she and Charlotte walked about the property. The men were off inspecting some project that Mr. Winstead was involved with and Louisa had a book she was reading out on the veranda. Elizabeth felt a warm gentle breeze kiss her face as she faced a beautiful blue sky on this perfect June day with the fragrances of the season and the cacophony of sounds that the many birds and other critters were singing in celebration of that day. She thought this was the most peaceful setting she had ever seen and her heart was full and she was very happy. Charlotte and her had walked to a large oak tree where there was a swing, and both took turns. First Elizabeth pushed Charlotte then after several minutes Charlotte returned the favor. John Winstead and Frank Kimble came upon them silently and raised their finger to make a hush sound as Mr. Winstead came up behind and gently pushed the swing. As Frank Kimble and Charlotte returned to the house, John Winstead kept pushing Elizabeth, who thought that Charlotte was still behind the swing. Elizabeth kept talking about the very kind people the Kimbles are. As she was pushed higher, she turned to Charlotte and asked her to help her stop the swing, but then noticed the trick that had been played on her, as she sought to catch her own breath.
“Why, why,..you have tricked me, Mr. Winstead. You should have let me know.”
“Then I should not have the pleasure of seeing the expression that is currently all over your pretty face, Miss Watkins. Pardon my joke at your expense, but I thought you might find it somewhat amusing.”
“I do, but I have learned something from it; you have a playful side, Mr. Winstead. My thoughts are you must surely be known as a man of many witticisms, but I cannot fault a person who gives and receives a good laugh. Now that is not a bad thing sir, so do not be alarmed that I have told you these things.”
Her dark eyes flirted with him as she looked directly into his own and affected him as he felt his heart skip when he asked her to accompany him for a brief walk, and she agreed. This is what she desired most as she found this man to be very pleasant and very much the gentleman who was devoted to his sister. He also appeared to be a man of high character. Though she knew him to be beyond her reach, that did not matter. What did matter was that she was near him, and for now at least, she had him to herself, though she soon had to attend to her young charges. While they were walking, she thanked him for all his trouble and expense in recovering her locket. “I shall repay you, sir. I am so thankful that you have come by it.” His reply was that he felt responsible for the situation that befell her, that he had not acted the gentleman once they both had arrived at Hampshire and that he should have seen that she safety reached her uncle’s.
She disagreed and told him so but it made no difference to him, he would not relent, and Elizabeth stomped her feet down to disagree. “Miss Watkins, have you ever seen a bullfight? I ask that because you stomp your foot much like the bull in the ring as he scratches the dirt before making his charge at the matador.”
“So you are now liking me to a bull that is raging mad?”
“No,” he laughed, “that may not have been the best analogy, but I was just making a point. No, I so enjoyed our travel together that long day and after I had left you at the Hampshire station I wished I had not. That is, I thought that I should have seen you safely to your uncle’s home.”
“Then, Mr. Winstead, you are forgiven for using that analogy. What you just said to me is very comforting. Your sharing the coach with me that day was very uplifting to my spirits and, to confess the truth, I have thought back on those moments often since I arrived. I had put those thoughts away, Mr. Winstead, but soon I was shocked to see you at the assembly hall, though I was happy to see you again and to meet Charlotte. When I saw you, I thought you were married. I confess, I like Charlotte very much.”
“Well, as with myself, she is very glad to have you here with her. She talks kindly of you, and she has matured much since she met you at Kimblehouse. I see a big change in her and I like what I see. Her self confidence is very noticeable, just as your own. Miss Watkins, you have been very good for her and I am very happy about that.” And you have been very good for me too, Miss Watkins.
They continued to walk for another hour and discussed many things. Mr. Winstead wanted to learn as much as he could about Miss Watkins, but she did not push him to tell her so much about himself, but still she learned much without the pressing of questions. Mr. Winstead told her that his investigators and attorneys who were assisting him in cleaning up the legal mess at Hunting Hills had been successful and that many of those involved had been arrested, including the two young men who had mugged her. He told her that he would soon be meeting with his attorneys and a magistrate to decide his options and even though he believed their crimes had to be paid for, he said he was bothered by extenuating circumstances for the young men who robbed her. As he told it, the man named Steven Thomas, the son of his tenant, was as poor as could be, and Mr. Thomas, with the help of the butler and his father’s steward, had been the ones responsible for altering the books about the income that this tenant’s farm produced. Apparently the man’s son, just seventeen years, had been sent from the home and had been living on the streets for the past four months. His father had beat him badly during an argument and sent him away in the bitter cold of winter. It was learned that these beatings occurred often, as the father was an alcoholic. The son, it turned out, had done most of the work on the farm while the father drank and conspired to cheat the owners of Hunting Hills. The son knew nothing of the father’s deception on this matter or in any other actions taken against Hunting Hills.
Mr. Winstead then told Elizabeth that young Thomas had been seeing the young girl that worked at the Jenkins home some three miles away, and after his father sent him away, he stayed in the barn of that home, unknown to the Jenkins. The girl is now pregnant by this young man. It was he who gave her the locket, Elizabeth’s own. Young Thomas told the authorities that he and a friend, who he had met on the streets, saw Elizabeth as an easy mark and attempted to steal her bag and get some money, for to be truthful, they were starving. Apparently as they rushed to her to grab her bag, the other boy tripped and knocked into Elizabeth and she fell against a stone and they ran away fearing they had killed her. The friend had badly sprained his ankle and had moved slowly and could not reach the Jenkins barn so his friend stayed with him in town in a shed behind the village pub. This story has been verified and neither boy had ever done anything before that broke the law.
On hearing the story Miss Watkins looked at Mr. Winstead, and with tears in her eyes, she asked him what he was going to do.
He saw her reaction and his heart was touched by goodness. He looked at her innocence as he told her, “Miss Watkins, I have related this story to you in the hope that you, the victim of that mugging, will help me decide.”
“Sir, I will say that the young boys are also victims. Were I in a similar situation and as desperate as they, I cannot say with full confidence that I would not have done what they did, because desperate people who have been cast out of warm comfortable homes and at the time of the attack were practically starving, why one can see how they might do such foolish things.”
“Miss Watkins, now that you have laid out your thoughts, consider you are the magistrate and will decide the fate of all those involved in this mess. What then is your verdict?”
“If you insist, I will say that the boys attack on me is separate and removed from the schemes of the butler and the boys father and any others. Those should be sent away for their crimes. Now as to my attack, I would not sleep knowing the situation of those poor souls, if I was responsible for sending them away. My Christian values will not allow for it and their story is believable. You said that the boy practically did most of the work on the farm, then why not let him stay and continue to farm the same land. Better still, and if the girl agrees, let them marry and live there. The other man may help his friend on the farm. Both would be indebted to you for this ki
ndness and concern and you would have made three new friends for life.
I do not wish to press any charges against them if you will agree to these suggestions I have made.”
John Winstead could not believe the compassion that she felt for these boys, yet he was beginning to understand her goodness. He studied her face and he saw a sweetness that he had not seen before and he was again affected. “I will think on these things, Miss Watkins, and we can talk about it in a few days, but your suggestions have merit.”
They continued walking and then came upon Frank Kimble who laughingly asked how Miss Watkins enjoyed the prank that they had played on her with the swing.
She looked at him and at John Winstead and told them that they were each trouble spelled with a capital T. Then they all laughed, but Elizabeth begged to excuse herself so she could get back to the children.
“Well, John, what do you think of the children’s governess?” He already knew his friend liked Elizabeth, and why should he not, nearly everyone would? He awaited his friend’s reply.
“She is to be a good governess for Kimblehouse. You do know Frank, that she will not last long single. Every eligible man in the county will be beating the doors down to court her.”
“Well, that may be. I have already had some men inquire as to her availability for courting.”
“Now Frank, I suppose that Mr. Reynolds may have been one of those inquiring?”
“No, but there were others and with them my reply was that she had a male friend that she was interested in.”
“Oh, I did not know.” John Winstead’s voice trailed off as he recovered. “So tell me Frank, does her male friend live near Brandywine or elsewhere?”
“You seem very interested in my governess, John. Are you looking to steal her away for yourself?” Frank Kimble then laughed softly, being careful not to overplay his hand, for he felt his friend to be in love with Elizabeth or at least in danger of that. But let me answer your question, the gentleman does not live near Brandywine; however, I have it on good authority that he is not only wealthy but quite handsome.”
Frank Kimble delighted in teasing his friend but he dared not pursue this particular discussion. Even so, he believed what he said was true, John Winstead was rich and handsome and a gentleman. Both he and Louisa were anticipating this visit to Hunting Hills for they planned to watch as this love affair developed further.
John Winstead was affected by what his friend said about Elizabeth. He thought of his meetings with her, and though they were brief, he did not recollect her ever mentioning she had a male friend. He admonished himself for these thoughts and went ahead to discuss with Charlotte the picnic they had arranged for down by the lake. The children were to learn how to fish and both the men were to be their instructors. Even then, chairs and picnic blankets and baskets of food and drink and comfortable pillows were being moved to the site of the picnic. Mr. Winstead soon saw Louisa Kemble walking with the children and then he saw Elizabeth. His eyes were fixed on Elizabeth as never before. A sudden gasp of pleasure, unheard by anyone else escaped John Winstead and he silently chuckled to himself that he was in the company of the most beautiful creature in all of England.
Elizabeth had been working with the children, practicing what they could say to their hosts, and soon came the time for their performance to begin. Lucy straightened her dress as she rose, and looking as pretty and innocent as she was, she said, “Mr. Winstead and Miss Charlotte, my brother and I wish to thank you for your hospitality and kindness in inviting us to Hunting Hills and for this picnic today. My brother, in particular wants to learn to fish and hopes you will instruct him in your favorite technique, for last time you caught most of the fish and our father only a few.”
Richard then spoke, “Sir, I thank you and Miss Charlotte, but it was Elizabeth who said that you caught more fish than father.”
Suddenly eyebrows raised, both John Winstead and Frank Kimble looked sternly at Elizabeth until John blinked first and all, excepting Elizabeth, laughed. Then Elizabeth said that Mr. Kimble had told her about the last time he had fished at Hunting Hills.
It is settled then,” John Winstead said. “We shall have a fishing contest, with two teams, and for two hours we shall see which team will catch the most fish. Frank’s team will include Charlotte and Lucy and Miss Watkins and Louisa’s team will include Richard and myself. Since I have been recognized by Miss Watkins as an accomplished angular, our three versus your four should make it a fair contest.” All soon responded with excitement.
After eating, each grabbed a fishing pole with the children handling smaller poles. With Frank Kimble teaching his team his techniques, and John Winstead doing the same, the two teams searched out other locations where they may land the most fish.
Soon it was clear that Frank’s team had found a hot spot. Lucy landed the first fish, a medium sized bass, and it was a keeper. Charlotte and Lucy then caught fire and after the first hour, their team had caught nine fish of keeping size while John’s team had but two, barely keeper size, one caught by Louisa and one caught by Richard. So far, Mr. Kimble had redeemed himself. The second hour brought a shift in success and both teams drew nearer in the numbers of fish caught. Elizabeth had not caught a fish, but was not discouraged. “I have five more minutes and the score is tied, I shall have the last fish.” No sooner had she said that when her line took a mighty strike, and John Winstead, leaving his pole aside, grabbed a net and went over to Elizabeth and reached for the line to pull in the large fish and fell head first into the water. “It is no problem, my friends, as he struggled with the fish, the largest one of the day. He was not successful, and removed himself from the water, laughing with all those around him, but he noticed Elizabeth looking at him and giggling with eyes that danced about and fluttered with brilliance. With a minute remaining, his line snapped hard and he barely reached it before the fish could pull his pole into the water. Soon all cheered him on to land the big fish, but it did not happen. Neither John Winstead nor Elizabeth had caught a fish in two hours. Everyone else did fine and Frank Kimbles’ team won the contest and Louisa had caught the most fish.
That night the friends had a fish fry and later Charlotte and Elizabeth played on the pianoforte. Mr. Winstead thought about the day and smiled. He even chuckled to himself about falling into the lake but as he heard Elizabeth play and sing he thought about what Frank had told him, that Miss Watkins has a male friend that she appeared to be interested in.
The music over, Elizabeth left with the children to take them to bed. Before that, she thanked her hosts and the Kimbles for a delightful day and, after giving John Winstead a longer look than the rest, she went upstairs. John Winstead noticed her looking at him and he was affected, but he held his countenance.
Louisa and Frank set up with Charlotte and John for another hour and then Charlotte retired and within the hour all had gone to bed. Before they retired John Winstead told his friends that his aunt, Lady Anne Fenton, and her daughter, Lenore, would be joining them for the morrow but would leave the next day. They were on holiday and had wished to stop at Hunting Hills. John excused this inconvenience and asked that his friends excuse this interruption, but the Kimbles had not seen Lady Anne for several years and said they looked forward to seeing her again and meeting her daughter.
Elizabeth’s sleeping difficulties continued. Again she replayed the day and all that had transpired but she was tired, for her day had been long, but now there were too many things to think about for her to sleep. John Winstead had worked on her again. Ever the gentleman, she enjoyed her walks with him and his friendliness with the Kimbles and with the children and herself, and she softly chucked when she recalled him falling into the lake as he tried to land her fish. He was a mess but looked at everyone and laughed at himself as he recovered. What she thought on most was his conversation with her regarding the Thomas boy and his friends. Now she knew the goodness of this man and this she would think about until sleep visited her.
John
Winstead had a worse time sleeping than did Elizabeth. Even as he had enjoyed his day, he was not happy to learn that Elizabeth had a male friend that she cared for. For his part, he sought to find out the details for himself. If true, then he would have to win her favor or back away entirely. Either way he knew he would be in trouble because he knew he was not a ladies man, so he thought himself deficient if he was competing for her. Still, there was no other alternative as he knew he had to secure her and he fretted many hours before an unsettled sleep finally visited him.
The next morning, Elizabeth rose early and went for a walk for she had spotted a trail leading up from the lake and which Charlotte had indicated offered a fair prospect of the lands surrounding Hunting Hills. It was not yet warm so she took her shawl with her as she left quietly and took the full measure of this beautiful estate, and thanking God for looking out for her, for Mrs. Watson and the Kimbles and Mr. Winstead and his sister. After walking some minutes, Elizabeth found a bench at a turn in the path that overlooked much of Hunting Hills and she sat in time to watch a beautiful sunrise. Her eyes misted as she thought of the beauty of the place and her very good fortune when she heard movement and because her eyes were misty she did not make out who or what it was until her eyes focused on John Winstead. “Mr. Winstead,” her words arrived an instant before he would speak.