“Yes. I’ll stay.”
Even as the words left his lips, he said a silent prayer that he would not live to regret his decision and hoped his prayer would reach a merciful God.
Four interviews later—the only four men in town Roman could find who were willing to interview for the position—they were no closer to finding a manservant than they were before starting on this fool’s errand.
While two of the four seemed more than capable of assisting with the running of the household and doing those tasks designated for the position, not a single one of them seemed able to handle the physical task which might arise, should he need to protect the family from Roman.
He ushered the last of the four out the front door and returned to the parlor, where Bethanne looked up at him and sighed.
“What was wrong with Mr. Norton? He seemed perfectly well versed in fulfilling the requirements of a butler, and is familiar enough with horses and carriages he could handle those needs as well.”
“He won’t suit,” Roman grumbled. If she couldn’t see that the man was old enough to be her grandfather and likely had the brittle bones which went with age, he couldn’t very well help her with that.
She scowled up at him. “He was the best option of the lot.”
He was. Which was a damned sorry state of affairs. The other possibility had weighed at least twenty stone, and could hardly move without huffing for breath. He wouldn’t have been able to fight off a fly, let alone Roman in a fit of rage during one of his episodes.
He shook his head. “I’ll have to post an ad and see what we can find that way. In the meanwhile, I’ll have Milner select an appropriate footman from Hassop House.” Or better yet, he’d make the selection himself. He needed to be bloody well sure that whoever it was could physically subdue him—and that was no small task.
“But won’t your father hear about it if a member of his staff is working somewhere else?” That haunted look was back in her eyes, tormenting him. “If my uncle—”
The door to the parlor burst open before she could finish her argument, and Finn dashed inside. He flung himself at her. She caught him, though she was nearly bowled over in the process. Almost immediately, her face softened to an expression of pure love.
“Mama! Miss you.” The boy giggled as she tickled his sides.
After a few minutes, she pulled him back to settle on her knee. “I’ve missed you too, my angel. What have you and Nurse been doing since breakfast?”
“Build my blocks,” he said solemnly. Then he gave a sly grin, much like the one he’d given Roman when begging for a biscuit not too long ago. “All fall down!” Finn tossed his arms up in the air on the pronouncement, leaving no doubt that he’d determined himself the champion for knocking over his carefully constructed block experiment.
“Oh, no,” Bethanne exclaimed in mock horror. “Did you build them again?”
Finn nodded, eyes serious and wide. “Yes. Fall down ‘gain.” A blasé shrug of his shoulders followed this final statement, prompting Roman to burst out in laughter.
“He’s been quite the master builder and destroyer this morning,” Mrs. Wyatt piped in from near the doorway. “Kept himself fully entertained for a good two hours.”
“Sounds to me like the young man might need to build them up once more,” Roman said, garnering Finn’s full attention. “One must practice something until one gets it right.”
Before the words were fully out of his mouth, Finn had leapt from Bethanne’s lap and run across the room to take Roman’s hand. “You help?” The boy didn’t give him a chance to respond. He was tugging with all his might, leading him out into the corridor and down to the music room, and Roman had no choice but to follow or lose a couple of fingers in the refusal to do so.
He looked sheepishly over his shoulder to Bethanne. They needed to finish their conversation, settle on what was to be done about bringing a manservant on staff at the cottage, but the boy had other plans in mind.
She laughed, and a glimmer of emotion passed through her eyes as she waved them on. “Go. Finn needs your assistance, my lord.”
“And bless you for it,” Mrs. Wyatt added. “I could use a few minutes in a proper chair instead of on the floor.”
In no time, he was being pulled to sit at the boy’s level. Finn placed wooden blocks of various colors and sizes in his hands. After they’d been at it for a while and had quite the stack going, Finn placed a red block at the top of a long wall and then looked up at Roman with a victorious smile. “I love you.” The boy vaulted himself over the wall between them, knocking it over with his feet as his tiny hands grasped Roman about the neck.
He didn’t quite know what to do with himself, so he held onto the boy for dear life and patted his hands on Finn’s back, even whilst fighting back a strange burning sensation at his eyes. He couldn’t be about to cry. Could he?
“I—” Roman’s voice cracked, so he cleared his throat. Blast, what was he even trying to say?
Finn pulled away and looked at him, straight in the eye, still held aloft in Roman’s arms. He giggled, the sound tinkling with pure joy, just before he leaned forward and planted a wet kiss on Roman’s cheek.
Good God. His heart constricted within his chest, with a delightful sort of pain he’d never experienced before. He’d never been kissed by a child before. Not even Rawden or Royston’s children had ever dared to do such a thing. He’d rarely been around them, and they were always a bit quiet and nervous in his presence. All children were. Until Finn.
He must have been sitting there staring at Finn with a shocked, baffled expression for too long. The boy cackled with laughter and kissed his cheek again, screeching in his ear. “Sharp whiskers,” he howled just before once again putting both arms tight around Roman and hugging him hard. “Love you,” he repeated, his voice muffled against Roman’s neck.
And then those damned prickling, stinging tears broke free. He wrapped both arms firmly around Finn’s back and pulled him close. “I love you, too,” Roman said, no longer caring that his voice cracked with emotion over each word. Because, devil take it, he did.
A sudden sob sounded in the doorway, and Roman looked up just in time to see Bethanne brushing away a tear of her own before darting off.
He didn’t have time to ponder what her reaction meant. Finn switched from hugs and kisses to a full tickle attack, and they were rolling on the floor.
It had been six days since Bethanne had received a letter from either Jo or Tabitha. It was odd to go so long without hearing from at least one of the two. Very odd. Since they each learned to write, it had been a rare occasion that they’d go more than a few days without sending one another something in the post.
But surely, it just meant that they were busy with holiday preparations with the family. Surely, it wasn’t anything ominous. If there were anything for Bethanne to worry about, such as Isaac following through and making his way toward Hassop for a visit, they would have rushed to send her word. Bethanne had no doubts about that.
A letter had arrived from Miranda, though, just that morning. So now, while she tried to forget about what she’d witnessed between Roman and Finn in the music room, Bethanne sat down at her escritoire and broke the seal.
Dearest Bethanne,
Michael and I have the most delightful news. I wanted to tell you in person, but Jo has stressed how impossible it is for you to leave Round Hill, with how Aunt Rosaline is faring, and Michael refuses to let me travel, so I must tell you in a letter. You see, I’m with child. I’ve wanted to tell you for months, but was waiting for the perfect opportunity to share the news with you. Since it hasn’t arrived, and since Mother and Father were just here and learned of our happy news, I decided it was time.
Next summer or fall, after the baby is born and Michael is ready to travel with us, we’ll journey to Hassop to see you.
In the meanwhile, know that I love you more than I can possibly say. Give my love to Finn. He must be getting so big by now. I can only ho
pe that Aunt Rosaline will know me when I am finally able to see her again.
All my love,
Your sister, Miranda Pickford
As she set the letter aside, Bethanne breathed a deep sigh. A baby. Miranda was going to have a baby. That was very good news. The best she’d heard in quite some time.
Bethanne felt lighter, like she could float away if her half-boots weren’t keeping her connected solidly to the ground. She still had a half dozen or so secrets she was forced to keep, it seemed, but at least Miranda was finally getting the happy ending she deserved: a husband who loved her and a child she could keep and love with no fear involved. Simple things, really. Not anything too far from the realm of the ordinary. Yet for quite some time, Bethanne had wondered if either sister would ever see things come together in such a way.
When she walked out of the parlor and made her way to the music room, it was with a smile plastered on her face.
Crandall lunged at Roman, catching him beneath the arms and lifting him bodily before sending them both rolling over the Hassop House lawn. Roman kicked out with his legs, trying to make contact, but the footman twisted out of reach.
A moment later, Roman was on his stomach with both hands pulled behind his back in a decidedly uncomfortable position. The weight of the footman kept his legs immobilized.
Definitely the best reactions of the three he’d tried. Crandall was lean, but strong. More importantly, he was fast on his feet and made quick decisions.
He would have been a good man to have on the battlefield, the sort of man one would be glad to have by his side.
“Well, that decides it, then.” Roman waited for Crandall to release him and stand. Once his limbs were free, Roman vaulted to his feet and brushed the muck from his clothes before drawing his coat on again. “Adams, Winchester, thank you both for your attempts, but I’ll ask you to stay on with your duties at Hassop House. Crandall, you’ll be coming with me.”
The three had been Milner’s primary suggestions for filling the position, at least on a temporary basis. Roman had thought about posting an ad, but that would run the risk of reaching the Shelton family in some way. Not a chance he was willing to take. No, Roman was going to have to make a trip to a nearby town in order to recruit the right man to permanently take on the job. Unless, of course, Crandall would be willing to stay on. It might be easier to replace a footman at his father’s estate than to find the right manservant for the Round Hill.
Adams and Winchester nodded and took their leave, and Roman turned to the remaining footman. “Pack yourself a trunk and be at the cottage before sunrise. I’ll expect you to begin your duties there as soon as you arrive.”
Crandall nodded as he drew on the Herringdon livery coat he’d removed for their skirmish. “Who am I protecting them from, if I might ask? I know the townsfolk aren’t too fond of Miss Shelton, but I can’t imagine any of them trying to hurt her. Or any of them, for that matter.”
Roman eyed him for a moment, debating how much he should reveal. He wasn’t in the habit of answering impertinent questions from servants—but Crandall needed to understand every facet of the reasons he was to work at the cottage.
“You’re protecting them from me.”
Crandall raised an eyebrow in question, but held his tongue.
“Sometimes, in my sleep, I forget that I’m not in the midst of battle. It isn’t safe for anyone to come upon me during these moments. There have been too many near misses.” He stopped there. Crandall didn’t need every tiny detail about what all had happened, or almost happened, and Roman damned sure wasn’t going to give him more than necessary. “When I sleep, I lock myself in my chamber. But you’re to be sure no one tries to enter and help me, under any circumstances.”
“Understood.”
Somewhat surprisingly, Crandall didn’t ask for any more explanation than that. Good. Now, more than he was before, Roman felt certain this was the perfect man for the position.
They discussed a few more pertinent details of Crandall’s changed employment, however temporary, and then Roman took his leave to return to the cottage.
When he arrived, he could hear the strains of the pianoforte. Bethanne must be playing for the rest of the household again. Roman smiled to himself, glad that at least for the moment, she was doing something other than worrying. It seemed to be such a rare occurrence that he decided to treasure it every time it happened.
Instead of joining them, however, he took a seat at his desk in the parlor to go over a few details on the budgetary report Milner had given him at Hassop House. Within minutes, he was so fully engrossed in sorting through figures and making lists that he’d lost track of time.
Mrs. Temple startled him out of his work when she came into the parlor. “Here we are, my lady. And Lord Roman’s already here to have tea with you.” She smiled over at Roman as she guided the lady into her armchair. “Miss Bethanne will be in to join you both in a few minutes. I’ll just go fetch the tray from Joyce. You two will be all right without me?” Without waiting for Roman’s response, she bustled out the door and went about her business.
Roman closed his books and set them aside for another time. Perhaps, once Crandall had arrived and was settled into his new duties, there would be more time for Roman to focus on his own. Not that he minded helping the women in the Shelton household. Far from it. But they were all being stretched rather thin of late.
Once he had all of his records situated, he moved to take up a seat next to Lady Rosaline, choosing the blue brocade sofa, this time. He hoped, almost in spite of himself, that Bethanne would choose to sit next to him there instead of selecting her usual settee.
Roman brushed the thought aside and smiled at Lady Rosaline—who, he noted, was wearing her red velvet gown again. Probably not a harbinger of good things to come. “Have you had a good day today, Lady Rosaline?”
She looked up at him with the eyes of a young lady in the blossom of new love. “Oh, today is to be a wonderful day. My Christopher will return home today, you know.”
Just as he’d expected.
Roman took up his usual conversation with her, hearing all of Lieutenant Jackson’s conquests in the war against the rebel colonists—a war which had ended several decades ago. He listened attentively as she painted a sparkling picture of her hero with her words, feeling desolate all the while that, yet again, she would end up with only devastation and a broken heart. Sometimes he wondered if the loss of her love had destroyed her mind, as well. He should ask Bethanne about that sometime, see if she’d open up a bit about her aunt and the life that the woman had led.
Bethanne came in as Lady Rosaline was recounting a battle in which Lieutenant Jackson had rescued three of his fellow soldiers from certain death. The younger lady smiled at Roman, a half-hearted smile, true, but still a smile. He would take any she would give and be thankful for them.
Smoothing her skirts, she took the open seat next to him on the sofa just as Mrs. Temple and Joyce brought in the afternoon tea.
Lady Rosaline ceased her monologue and looked up expectantly at the servants. “Has he arrived? Is my Christopher here?”
Unruffled, Bethanne reached for the teapot and poured. “I’m sorry, Aunt. He hasn’t arrived yet. We’ve had no word at all.” Setting the teapot down, she put in two cubes of sugar and a dollop of cream, then passed the cup to her aunt. “Tea? And let me fix you a plate of sandwiches. That will help you to pass the time until his arrival.”
Roman let out a breath of relief. She seemed so much more composed than she had of late. He didn’t know whether Bethanne’s change in demeanor could be attributed more to his promise that he wouldn’t leave them or to the relaxing afternoon she’d spent in the music room, but it didn’t really matter. He was just glad to see her taking her aunt’s behavior in stride, without resorting to panic.
For the next while, they made small talk, discussing the turn in the weather and debating how soon they’d need to make a trip into town for further supplies.
Lady Rosaline sipped from her tea and ate her sandwiches, not paying any attention whatsoever to their discussion as she was full engrossed on watching out the front window.
“Crandall, a footman from Hassop House, will be here no later than dawn to take over as your manservant. At least for the time being.” Roman returned his cup and saucer to the tray and sat back, stretching out his legs a bit.
“You’re sure your father won’t hear of it?” Bethanne only sounded mildly worried, not as certain of impending doom as she usually was.
Roman winked at her. “There’s no reason he should. The house is staffed well enough for the family to be in residence, and since they aren’t in residence, there isn’t enough work to go around. Milner and Crandall are both very discreet. Word will neither reach your father’s ears, nor those of anyone else in your family.” Your secret is safe with me. The words hovered on his lips, but he kept them to himself.
She nodded and took another sip of her tea. Roman’s eyes were drawn to her delicate hands, perhaps half the size of his own. Everything about her was so dainty and small, so very dissimilar to anything about him. Further proof that he needed to keep his distance from her, no matter what he was drawn to do. It would be so easy for him to hurt her, to break her, to do her significant harm.
Crandall couldn’t arrive soon enough.
Just as the thought struck him, the sounds of horse and carriage rolled into the drive. The man must have decided not to wait until tomorrow morning. Perfect timing. He’d be able to introduce Crandall around to Bethanne and the rest of the women before they all went about their next tasks.
Lady Rosaline’s eyes widened with delight, and she shot up from her chair.
The Old Maids' Club 02 - Pariah Page 19