The Rake’s Hesitant Bride: Historical Regency Romance (Ladybirds of Birdwell Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  "And I have hoped to find a truly honest man," said Merope, and then both of them laughed together. She was so pleased with how the day had gone. Her mother would be pleased to hear about Mr. Brookford.

  The torchlights of Birdwell's main street were coming into view at last and she thought that a one-mile trip had never been so short.

  "In that case, Miss Robbins, it seems to me that we are fated to keep company for a time – at least, for as long as I am staying at Worthington. It is fortunate," said Mr. Brookford. "I am quite curious to see if a match is happier when it is sensibly made, instead of being driven by the lash of emotions."

  "Or by the whip of a nice estate with a good income, not to mention, a man who is newly made a barrister," murmured Sally.

  Mr. Brookford sent Starling into a trot down the brightly torchlit street of Birdwell, and eventually pulled up beside the wooden boardwalk directly in front of the Robbins Inn. Very carefully, he helped Merope step down from the high seat of the gig, making sure she got up on the boardwalk. Then, he turned to Sally and helped her down as well on the other side of the vehicle. Merope waited.

  Merope gazed up at Mr. Brookford where he sat up on the beautifully made gig behind the shining black horse. "I want to thank you for a lovely afternoon, Mr. Brookford," said Merope. "And for being so kind as to drive us both all the way back to Birdwell."

  "It was my pleasure, Miss Robbins," he said, gazing down at her as though she were the only person in the world. Then, after a long moment, he seemed to remember Sally. "And you, as well, Miss Henson."

  "Indeed," said Sally. "I am so pleased that you both believe you have found a perfectly honest partner. I sincerely hope that that is exactly what each of you gets!"

  Merope shared a wry look with Mr. Brookford. He could see what Sally was up to, no doubt. He bid them both goodnight, and then drove off. As he disappeared from sight, Merope and Sally turned towards Robbins Inn.

  Chapter Six

  The next day at mid-morning, James swung up on Vireo, while his cousin Thomas mounted his own favorite hunter, Blackcap. Together, the two gentlemen jogged their horses away from the barn and headed out over the rolling green hills towards the cattle pastures.

  "I would like to get your opinion on them, James," Thomas said. "The Teeswater breed is considered the best for anyone who wants an animal for both milk and meat. My long-term goal is to provide good stock not just for large establishments like this one, or even your own at Albany, but for the small farms with just a few animals, such as those places all around Birdwell."

  "A very fine goal indeed," said James. It was a beautiful morning with weather much like Midsummer Day had been, with soft high clouds that kept the heat at bay, but still allowed the sunlight to filter through. "The small farmers could certainly use an efficient animal able to provide both. Then they would not have to keep and feed extra heads for different uses."

  "My thoughts exactly." Thomas looked quite pleased with himself as the horses eased back down to a walk. "And there they are: the thirty-seven lovely ladies of the Worthington Teeswater family, with their spring calves."

  The herd of cows did look quite spectacular, for they were all a bright red roan color – white hairs mixed with red – and some had splashes of white on their faces and legs and bellies. All of the cows had a calf with the same coloring, and the young ones scampered about over the green grass while their placid mothers grazed.

  "You do seem to enjoy this," James remarked. "And are becoming quite knowledgeable about it. Tell me . . . you have lived in the city for a time, while getting your own education. Do you ever miss it?"

  Thomas glanced at him as the horses walked along. "At first, I suppose I did. There's no denying the excitement of business, trade, the people, the social life . . . and the many spectacular women on full display."

  Then he shrugged. "But I found myself feeling more and more content with living here, and making a study of good farm management, and caring for my mother, and seeing to the continued good order of Birdwell . . . and, most of all, I am perfectly happy with my dear wife and country girl, Grace. No, cousin James, I miss nothing at all, except Grace’s presence when she is not at my side."

  "Then I am happy for you." James breathed deep of the fresh clean air as they went on walking the horses along the stone walls of the pasture and glanced at Thomas. "I suppose you know why I have returned."

  "Well – not entirely, I will confess. I know that you have achieved your degree in law, on which I congratulate you."

  "Thank you."

  "And I know that after that, you went to London quite suddenly and stayed there for some two years. But I do not know why you did so – why you went there or why you have returned now. Both Grace and I are very happy that you have come back, make no mistake, but it is a mystery to us both as to why, exactly, you did."

  "I see." James gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I am sure you know that I intended to marry Angela Stone upon my graduation from law at Cambridge."

  "I am afraid that the entire town of Birdwell and everyone within a ten-mile radius knew that."

  "I thought she was a sweet and wholesome country girl, like most are out here. I thought she was exactly what she seemed to be. I thought she cared for me. But she was nothing of the kind."

  "Unfortunately, people are often not what they seem. It is one of the great hazards of life – especially when it comes to marriage."

  James laughed, not caring how bitter it sounded. "I thought she would be content with the country life, as I would have been. All the while, she pushed me to study law, saying we could still live out here in Birdwell, and of course, visit Albany whenever we liked."

  "It sounds like the perfect life for you."

  "Exactly. Too perfect. She told me what she thought I wanted to hear, in order to keep me on her hook. To keep the flattery coming. To keep the gifts coming.

  "The truth was, she did not really want to want to live in the country. The entire time, she really intended for us to live in the city, and then she would bide her time until I inherited my father’s title. You can see how that turned out."

  "So – you must have confronted her and told her you would not go to the city after all?"

  "Oh, I would have gone, for her. No, Thomas, she was the one who left me. She left me the moment a richer gentleman with a better title came along."

  Thomas just nodded, with a resigned expression. "I suspected as much, though I did not know for sure." He glanced at his friend and smiled. "In that case, you have come to the right place if you hope to finally find a bride at last. There are many sweet country girls in and around Birdwell, and any number of them would be very content with such a life."

  But James only clenched his teeth as the two gentlemen continued walking their horses along the pasture wall. "No. No. You still don't understand. You think I want to find another sweet country girl, like Angela?" He just laughed. "Angela was the daughter of a hog farmer just two miles out of Birdwell. She was born and raised in the country in that little cottage with a whole passel of brothers and sisters. She told me she loved that kind of life – but that was not true.

  "I was the best prospect she had at the time, and so Angela told me what she believed I wanted to hear so that I would marry her. All along, however, she planned to apply so much pressure to move to the city once I had my law degree that I would have little choice but to comply."

  "I am sorry. It is a cruel game, and one that women play all too often."

  "She was merely using me," James said quietly, surprised at the pain and humiliation of it even after all this time had passed. "That is how little my life meant to her. When a certain very rich Frenchman arrived in London that season, she immediately chose him instead and discarded me like a piece of rubbish."

  "I am sorry, James. I know that you did care for her."

  "But no longer. Let her keep her French wealth. She certainly sold herself to the highest bidder for it. Keep me far from those kind, sweet gir
ls who demurely say they want nothing and always agree with everything I say, for it can never be so in reality."

  "I see." They had nearly reached the end of the pasture wall and ahead of them lay more fields and open rolling hills. "Then – you are going to stay with us out here for a time? And move back to Albany for good?"

  James managed a tense smile. "I should like to stay for some things – for your company, cousin, if nothing else. But the most important thing to me right now, since I've finished with Cambridge, is finding a woman who will be truly honest with me about what she wants."

  Thomas was silent for a moment. "Are you sure you would not prefer to have the full moon brought down for your own personal lamplight? Or perhaps you would like to have kingdom treasury placed at your disposal? Either of those things would be easier to arrange than a woman who will be truly honest. I was lucky enough to find such a woman in my Grace."

  In spite of himself, James had to smile. "I still have hope that I can find such a woman, but I'm under no illusions that I might find her anywhere near Birdwell. After all, Angela was a sweet country girl from right here in this county.

  "So, I have decided that at the end of the summer, I will return to London, or go to Paris, or perhaps even Brussels. Somewhere on the continent, I may find a woman who will not surprise me, but who will be what she appears to be from the first moment I meet her."

  "Well, cousin, there is always hope. But – will you at least stay through cubbing season? Grace and I would enjoy having you here so much, and I'm sure your own parents would be very glad to have you close by a little longer."

  James glanced at his friend and cousin. "That is quite a bargain you make. Stay through October? Another four months?" He sighed. "I will admit that it is something I find hard to say no to."

  "Then don't say no. Say yes. It is only through October."

  "All right, then. October it is." And during that time, perhaps – just perhaps – I will learn whether Miss Merope Robbins is, indeed, the honest woman I've looked for all my life.

  Merope and Sally both slept in a bit the next day, not bothering to get out of bed until seven in the morning. "Get up! Get up, you slothful girls," called Mrs. Robbins as she knocked on Merope's door. "There is work to be done!"

  But the two of them just stretched lazily, Merope in her bed and Sally on a comfortable pallet on the floor. Finally, they both got up to wash and dress and start their day.

  Before long, they sat with Mrs. Robbins at the small table in the kitchen, enjoying tea and hot bread with fresh butter. "Now, I have many things to do today," she said sternly. "It is Saturday. There will be townsfolk arriving to enjoy dinner and some will stay for cards in the dining room afterwards. There is a coach due this afternoon as well and most will want lodging. So – "

  "Yes, of course I will help you, Mother," said Merope with a sigh as she reached for the dish of butter.

  "I will be glad to help you, too, Mrs. Robbins," said Sally, smiling politely. "I was glad to be allowed to stay in Merope's room last night, instead of having to go another two miles to my cottage when it was well after dark."

  "Nonsense," said Mrs. Robbins, pouring hot tea for all of them. "It is no trouble. Though I am not above accepting help when I can find it. First, we will – "

  "Polish silver? Wash the linens? I'll take the silver," said Merope. "I can do that while I sit down comfortably and watch everything that happens outside on the street."

  "I can wash linens," said Sally, though she did not look too enthusiastic.

  Mrs. Robbins set down her teacup with a small rattling sound. "That will come later. For now, I wish to go outside and gather flowers."

  "Gather – flowers?" Merope seemed confused.

  "Yes. Flowers. You know that I am always looking for ways to improve the inn. There are all sorts of wildflowers growing along the lanes right now and they would look beautiful on the dinner tables this evening. You two may come with me and – "

  "Oh, what fun!" said Sally. "Now that sounds like the kind of chore that I would never complain about doing."

  Merope gave her mother a small smile. "And it will provide us with a fine chance to tell you what happened at Worthington yesterday, with no one else around to hear."

  Mrs. Robbins pretended to be confused. "I am sure I do not know what you mean. As soon as you are finished, get a basket and three aprons and some cutters. We'll leave very shortly for flower-gathering."

  "Ah, now. Even I will admit that it's nice to be outside on such a pretty summer day."

  Mrs. Robbins walked along the lane that ran behind the eastern shops of Birdwell. To one side of the lane, there was the long stone-and-brick back side of the row of shops, while on the other were small scattered cottages surrounded by a few acres apiece of animal yards or growing crops.

  And both sides of the lane were bright with colorful summer wildflowers. From time to time, Merope used her cutters to trim the flat, delicate white flowers of Queen Anne's Lace, or to get some of the yellow-wort with its warm sunshine color and sharply pointed petals.

  Merope placed her cut flowers in the basket Sally carried, pleased to see her mother in such a good mood. "You do need to get out sometimes, you know. You spend all of your time working so hard indoors to keep the inn running so well."

  But Mrs. Robbins waved her hand. "Yes, yes. But what I really want to know is: What happened at the picnic yesterday, out at Worthington? Did the earl's cousin arrive, as everyone has been talking about? Were there any other eligible young gentlemen in attendance?"

  Merope glanced at Sally as though silencing her, and then smiled up at her mother as the three of them slowly walked along the lane. "The earl's cousin did indeed arrive," Merope said. "He was the one who drove us home last evening, in the gig."

  "That was him? That was James Brookford?" Mrs. Robbins looked stunned. "I suppose I was afraid to hope that he might actually be there – no one in town had much faith that he would. He's hardly left Albany since going back there weeks ago." She stopped to cut a nice big bunch of purple clover blossoms with large rounded heads. "Now, tell me how you came to meet him, and then you can end your story with how he came to be driving the two of you back to Birdwell last night."

  "Well, Mother," drawled Merope, continuing her leisurely walk down the lane, "Mr. Brookford did indeed arrive at the picnic. And he and I seemed – quite drawn to each other right from the start."

  "Oh, yes, Mrs. Robbins. He was a most charming gentleman and Merope wasted no time presenting herself to him," said Sally, with all sweetness. "Why, I myself could hardly get in a word to him! And neither could anyone else!"

  "Why, Sally, Mr. Brookford was indeed perfectly charming, just as you said. I'm sure he would have spoken to you if he had taken an interest." Merope sighed, as though not noticing the stunned look on Sally's face. "But a gentleman cannot help whom he likes and does not like. It is out of our hands." She clipped a few more fine, long stems of yellow-wort and added them to the growing load in Sally's basket.

  "Gentlemen don't always know what they want," retorted Sally. "Sometimes they see only what is directly in front of them! And when you allow no one else a chance – "

  "Why, Sally," said Merope, walking along again. "Do you mean to say that Mr. Brookford cannot make up his own mind about whom he does and does not wish to talk to?" She shrugged. "He seemed perfectly intelligent to me. Did it not occur to you, Sally, that if he spoke to me, it was because he wished to speak to me – and only to me?"

  Sally glowered at her friend. "It has occurred to me on other occasions, Merope, that a gentleman might find himself talking to you when he believes you care for him – when in truth he is only a toy to you."

  When Merope merely stood there, looking at her with cool amusement, Sally abruptly turned away and began searching through the flowers at the edge of the lane.

  "I see," said Mrs. Robbins dryly. "Mr. Brookford does seem to be quite popular already. But aside from the two of you being ready to duel
over him, do tell me: Was he handsome? Well dressed? Learned?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed, Mother. He was all of those things," said Merope quickly, again ignoring Sally. "And given that he is a first cousin of Earl Worthington, I should say he might be worth my time. Well worth it." She paused to cut a few more stems of the Queen Anne's Lace and then placed them carefully in the basket.

  "I especially enjoyed our conversation in the gig on the way back. I found out the most interesting thing," Merope said. "Mr. Brookford said – of all things – that he had long been searching for a woman who prized honesty above everything else. A woman who would always tell him the truth, no matter what. Isn't that quite the coincidence?"

  Mrs. Robbins looked from Merope over to Sally, who was still searching for more flowers at the edge of the lane and trying to pretend she did not hear the conversation. "That is very interesting, Merope. I recall you saying just recently that you yourself hoped to find a man who would do the very same. Do you think that you have found him, and in a gentleman, no less?"