“A picnic?” Eden asked.
“Yes, a picnic,” Mrs. Meeks said. “You know, where you eat out of doors under a shady tree. Oh, when Mr. Meeks was alive, we celebrated every sunny day we could with a picnic. There’s a nice breeze out there today too.” She placed a smoked ham in the basket. “It’s too bad you and Lord Penhollow can’t have a little one yourselves. We have so much food, and an extra basket. Of course, someone could ask him to go on a picnic if she wished. I believe he is in his study.”
Eden frowned. “Do you think he would? He’s very busy right now.”
“Oh, I think he’d make time for you,” Lucy answered with a broad wink at Mrs. Meeks. The kitchen maids giggled.
Eden was tempted. A visitor from Devon had arrived early this morning to talk about stud arrangements and their ride had been cut short. The Devon man had left an hour ago. “Perhaps I could ask him.”
“Oh, yes, do ask him,” Mrs. Meeks said. “He works too hard. And while you’re about that, I’ll find a nice blanket for you to take on your picnic.”
“A blanket?” Eden asked, startled.
“To lay on the ground while you eat,” Mrs. Meeks answered. “What did you think I meant?”
Eden blushed, and Lucy and the maids guffawed loudly.
“Wait, I can’t go,” Eden said to Mrs. Meeks. “I promised you I’d deliver these baskets.”
“The baskets will wait,” Mrs. Meeks said. “There’s only two of them to deliver and you can do that when you come back.”
Lucy hurried Eden out the door into the hall. “Go on now, and ask our Lord Pierce to a picnic. Oh, but wait.” She addressed one of the kitchen maids. “Liz, you go find Mrs. Ivy and keep her busy.” She winked at Eden. “Mrs. Ivy is the one that tips off Lady Penhollow whenever you and Lord Pierce get together alone.”
“But what do I say to her?” Liz asked.
“Ask her how to wash wool or some such nonsense,” Mrs. Meeks said. “She’ll spout off for hours about what she thinks she knows.”
Liz nodded and hurried ahead of Eden. A few minutes later, Lucy and Mrs. Meeks gave Eden the sign that it was safe for her to go to Lord Penhollow’s study. They sent her off with whispered instructions and a basket of food in her hand.
Eden took a moment to smooth her rose muslin dress and knocked on his door. He called for her to enter.
Lord Penhollow sat behind his great desk. A stack of papers was piled in front of him. He’d removed the jacket he’d worn to greet his visitor and his neckcloth was now slightly askew.
“Are you terribly busy?” she asked.
He laid his pen down. “I always have time for you. Why?”
“I wanted to invite you on a picnic lunch with me.” She held up her basket.
He grinned. “I’d be delighted.” He rose from the desk and started to reach for his jacket. “Did you have any place special in mind?”
“I thought we could walk to the duck pond. I must be back by three to deliver the charity baskets.”
He took the basket from her, testing its weight. “One of Lucy’s hampers, is it?” He pulled out a bottle of wine and winked at Eden. “Lucy always packs a good hamper.”
They started toward the back door leading to the garden when Mrs. Meeks darted in their path, a blanket over one arm.
“You don’t want to use that door,” she said pointedly to Eden who understood Lady Penhollow must be in the garden. “Here, take the blanket and go out the front,” Mrs. Meeks suggested.
“But this is quicker,” Lord Penhollow started, but Eden had already turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.
He caught up with her. His eyes narrowed with speculation. “Avoiding Mother, are we?”
Eden hummed her answer and slipped out the door Rawlins held open. “Enjoy your afternoon, my lord,” the butler said as Lord Penhollow followed her.
“The servants are matchmaking,” he said, surprising her.
“You know it?”
“Do you know it?”
She wasn’t prepared to answer that question. Instead, she said, “Do you know what they call you when they talk amongst themselves? Lord Pierce. And they say it with such pride. I’ve never known anyone who commanded the respect you do.”
“Oh, yes, they respect me,” he said easily. “Until I do something they don’t like. Then I have burnt meals for a week and a disordered household.”
Eden laughed. “I could see Mrs. Meeks making her views known through such methods. I wouldn’t dare cross her.”
“It’s best you remember that,” he rejoined.
The stable yard was empty as they walked through it. On the other side of the stable, by the pond, the ducks came swimming to greet them, quacking greedily at the sight of Eden. She’d taken to feeding them on a daily basis. Even the goose welcomed her. She threw out bread crumbs, while Lord Penhollow spread the blanket out on the ground.
Throwing the last of the bread into the pond, which sent the ducks hurrying to gobble it, she returned to the blanket and started to unpack the hamper. “I was sorry our ride was cut short this morning,” she confessed.
He stretched out on the blanket beside her, one knee bent, and pulled a peach and a knife from the hamper. “I am too.” His fingers deftly started peeling the peach.
Eden hesitated. A robin’s cheerful call sounded from somewhere beyond the pond. If ever there was a time for confidences, this was it. But did she dare tell him the truth?
He offered her a slice of peach. The juice ran down over his fingers. She had the urge to lick it from his hands.
Suddenly restless and tense, she popped the whole peach slice in her mouth to stop from acting on her impulse.
“Something is bothering you,” he said.
She swallowed the peach. His gaze held hers.
“What is the matter?” he asked.
Eden told him part of the truth. “I want to taste the juice from the peach on your fingers.”
He froze and she sensed his body tightening in response to her words. He came up on one hand. “You what?”
Eden shook her head. She wouldn’t repeat her words. She already feared they were a mistake.
He got up off the blanket and looked down at her. “Sometimes I think you are the most naive woman I’ve ever met and the next moment you’re offering to lick my body. It’s like you’re a creature of contradictions, teasing and flirting with me and yet wholly innocent.”
“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
He knelt beside her and, with one finger, lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Eden, your passion pleases me. But I told you once that I want more than just that from you.” His eyes searched hers. “I keep waiting for you to tell me your story, but you won’t share it, will you?”
She found it difficult to meet his gaze and turned to look away—
“Eden, tell me about Madame Indrani.”
He held her attention now. Madame’s presence seemed to loom around them at the mere mention of her name.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
She opened her mouth. Yes, she could tell him ... But the words caught in her throat. She shook her head. “I can’t.” She would have pulled away but he took hold of her shoulder and held her fast.
“Or is it that you won’t? Eden, remove this barrier between us. Don’t you understand? I’m waiting for you, but you must trust me. You must tell me what you fear.”
Still she couldn’t speak.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Eden, I must know more.”
When she spoke, the words came out haltingly. “She was a… teacher to me. Someone who… was very instrumental in my being on a ship.” It was all she was brave enough to say.
“There’s more,” he said.
I’m a courtesan, a harlot, a whore.
She could never speak those words. Their worlds were too different. If she told him the truth, a chasm would split them apart.
“Does my past mean so much to you?” Her voice was barely a
whisper.
“Your honesty means everything.”
He made it so tempting to set her doubts aside…
His hand brushed a curling tendril from her face. “Eden, why do you hide from me? What is it you don’t want me to know?”
… But she did not want to see him turn from her in disgust.
Bittersweet regret washed through her, but she’d made her decision. He must never know her past. He would not understand.
She turned away from him and he let her go.
“I must return to the house now. I promised Mrs. Meeks I would deliver the parish baskets.“
She reached down to repack the hamper, but he caught her arm and pulled her around. “Eden. Eden, look at me.”
She forced herself to face up at him. A muscle worked in his jaw and she realized he was angry with her.
Lovingly, she pushed back the lock of his hair that fell over his brow. “If I could give you my soul, I would do so.”
He jerked away as if her touch scalded him and walked down to the edge of the pond. There he stood, hands on hips, his back to her. Helplessly, she wished it could be different… but then, perhaps this was for the best.
She loved him too much to disgrace him.
His voice cut through the stillness. “Well.” He turned back to her. The set of his mouth was tense. His gaze didn’t met hers. “We should, ah, clean up the picnic. I have work to do.”
Eden nodded dumbly and put the cheese and fruit back in the hamper. All the joy had left the day. Even the robin no longer sang happily.
They walked back to the house. At the edge of the front drive, Eden stopped.
“I think it would be best if I left tomorrow.”
He didn’t look at her. “You might be right.” He took a few steps toward the house and turned. “Tell me what you want to do and when and I shall make the arrangements.”
He left her then. Eden stood rooted to the earth. The decision had been made. It was done. She would leave.
She drew a deep, steadying breath, and slowly followed him into the house, repeating over and over in her mind, It’s for the best
Eden decided to let Lord Penhollow break the news that she was leaving. She would rather slip out of the house and deliver the charity baskets, pretending for just a few more hours that everything was going to be fine.
Since he had a single tree that needed to be repaired by Dane, Jim drove her to Hobbles Moor in the trap. He was in a talkative mood and all that was required of her were single-syllable responses. He didn’t even notice she was unusually quiet.
He drove Eden to the other side of Hobbles Moor where row after row of small thatched-roof cottages were neatly laid out. Lord Penhollow had built these cottages for the miners. They were one-or two-room houses with a small yard in front for vegetables and flowers.
Behind several of the cottages were chicken coops and even a milk cow tethered here and there.
“Living like kings, they are, since Lord Penhollow built these fine cottages,” Jim said with pride.
“What were their lives like before?” Eden asked, her heart heavy over the prospect of leaving.
“They lived where they could. Hand to mouth they were. One family lived in a cave by the sea. Lord Penhollow heard about them and insisted they move to Hobbles Moor and taught the man a trade. Aye, there’s many a family here that wouldn’t have a roof over their heads without the help of our Lord Pierce.” He watched Eden out of the corner of his eye as he added, “A woman couldn’t do any better than his lordship. He’s a rum one, he is.”
Eden managed to keep her face expressionless and changed the subject. “How far is the tin mine from here?”
“Two miles over yonder field.” Jim nodded toward the north. “That’s another thing Lord Penhollow did. Everyone thought the mine was dried up until he took over. He’s even worked it himself. He pays a fair wage because he’s wielded the pick himself and knows how hard the work is. The track and carts he’s designed are really going to change how the men work.”
“He’s designed tracks?” They drove around the circular pond in the middle of Hobbles Moor.
“Aye, the track will make it easier to get the ore out of the pit. Turning’s backbreaking work. The tinners are anxious for any help they can get. Lord Pierce also has plans to build a foundry right there close to the mine. He’s hired an engineer and all. The man will show up in a month or so to start the work.”
Jim reined the trap to a halt in front of a cottage with a crying toddler sitting in the front yard. He set the brake and hopped out over the side to open the back door for Eden. He handed one of the baskets to her.
“Thank you, Jim, and let me have both baskets. You can go to Dane’s while I’m here.”
“I don’t think so, Miss Eden,” he replied. “It’s probably best I wait for you.”
“Then we won’t return home for hours.” And she had packing to do. “You go ahead and I will visit with Mrs. Tucker and Mrs. Furman. I’ll be fine and Mrs. Furman could use the company. Her son was down with the fever the other day and I want to check on him.”
For a second, the loneliness of no longer being a part of this community hurt almost as much as giving up Lord Penhollow. Eden blinked back the tears, ducking her head lest Jim see them.
“I don’t think Lord Penhollow would like for me to leave you, Miss Eden.”
“Lord Penhollow will be grateful if you get me back to Penhollow Hall at a decent hour.”
Jim relented. “I’ll only be an hour or so, miss,” he promised.
“That’s fine. I’ll be here,” Eden said. Of course, Jim waited until she’d walked into the Tuckers’ yard before he snapped the reins and .turned the trap around toward the smithy.
Eden knelt down to the crying toddler’s eye level. “Harry, what has you upset?” she asked softly. Aside from Lord Penhollow, she would miss the children the most.
Large brown eyes stared at her before he began howling even louder than before. There came the answering sound of another child crying from inside the cottage. Mrs. Tucker appeared in the doorway. She was the mother of six children, the last two being the twins, Sarah and Willie. She balanced Sarah on one hip. She was a hardworking woman who’d been sickly since the twins were born a year and a half ago. Lord Penhollow—through the parish—had been providing extra support for the family.
“I have a basket for you today, Mrs. Tucker.” Eden set the basket down and held out her arms for Sarah. “Here, let me hold this one, while you take the basket inside.”
“I don’t know if she’ll go to you, Miss Eden. She’s been fussy today with a tooth coming in.” But Sarah was already reaching for Eden.
Eden took the babe in her arms and hugged her close. She was very affectionate with all the children and never missed a hug. Mary Westchester would be proud of her if she could see Eden now.
“Where’s Willie?” Eden asked, looking around the yard for one of her favorite boys.
“Asleep, where this one should be,” Mrs. Tucker answered. She and Eden were roughly the same age, but childbirth and hard work made her appear much older, except for the good humor in her eyes. She smiled at Eden. “Come inside, won’t you, and we’ll have a spot of tea. I see Mrs. Meeks packed some in the hamper.”
“Oh, I’d love to come in for a moment, but no tea today. I have this other basket for the Furmans’ and Jim is only letting me have an hour today. Have you heard how their son is doing?” Sarah had taken one of Eden’s curls in her chubby fist and put it in her mouth.
Mrs. Tucker stepped forward, pulled Sarah’s hand away from Eden’s hair, and then kissed the baby’s fingers. “I haven’t heard. Let me put me babies down for their nap and I’ll go over with you.”
“I’d like that.”
“Come then, Harry. It’s time for your nap,” his mother said. Harry howled louder, but his mother was relentless.
Eden trailed after her, laughing at Sarah’s obvious enjoyment of her curls.
Inside
, in spite of the constant smoke and soot from the peat fire, the sparsely furnished cottage was spotless. A bed large enough to sleep two adults was pushed up against the wall. Stored neatly beneath the bed were the straw-filled pallets the children used to sleep upon the floor. His thumb in his mouth, tow-headed Willie slept in the center of the bed.
“We saw you riding with Lord Penhollow yesterday morning,” Mrs. Tucker said. She set the hamper on the table and pulled out a loaf of bread. Slicing off a thin piece, she handed it to Harry, who immediately stopped crying.
“If’n you don’t mind my saying, the two of you are a fine couple.”
Eden smiled her thank you, deciding the less said the better. She laid Sarah on the bed next to her brother. Mrs. Tucker handed Sarah a piece of crust and the child settled down, holding the crust with one hand and sucking the thumb of the other.
“How are you feeling?” Eden asked.
“Better and better,” Mrs. Tucker said absently, more interested in getting the children down for a nap. She laid Harry on one of the straw pallets.
He immediately started to roll off. Mrs. Tucker snapped her fingers and pointed back to the pallet. For a second, Harry eyed his mother in indecision.
“Harry,” she warned. He laid back down on the pallet.
Eden had moved to the doorway and now Mrs. Tucker joined her.
Mrs. Tucker smiled. “Thomas said it rained at the mine all yesterday, but we didn’t get a drop here. Cornwall’s strange, isn’t it? Almost as if God teases us with the weather.” She glanced over her shoulder. Harry was staring up at the rafter ceiling.
“Where are the older children?” Eden asked.
“Tommy is sheepherding with old Milo. One of my girls is over helping card wool.” She nodded in the direction up the road leading to the weaver’s cottage. “And my other is helping Mrs. Furman keep her babies quiet. Ah, there she is now.” She waved at a pretty brown-haired girl with eyes like her own who was leading two dark-headed children down the road.
Mrs. Tucker went out into the yard. Eden followed. “Where are you off to, Clara?”
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE Page 17