by Jo Ann Brown
God, she prayed as she stood again, don’t let me forget what a disappointment I will be to any man who is foolish enough to be interested in me. Make me strong in my resolve and guide my steps along Your path.
“As I have said time and again,” she said aloud, “it is wonderful to have tasks to fill my time. I will also ask the Cothaire servants to spread the word that you are looking to fill positions here. I have no doubts we will have many suitable candidates within days.”
“At least until they see the sorry state Warrick Hall is in.”
“Have faith, Jacob. By the time your family arrives, the house will be ready.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Absolutely,” she said, even though she was not. However, she knew he needed to have faith...as she did that all would resolve itself as it should. A half sob caught in her throat, because she knew everything resolving itself as it should would mean some other woman relishing his sweet caresses.
Chapter Eight
When Jacob arrived early at Cothaire for another lesson more than a week later, he was eager to tell Carrie that the furniture she had selected was out of the attic. It had been a greater task than he had guessed to get the largest pieces out through the windows and on to the rope attached to the pulley, but with the help of the men he had hired from Porthlowen, the job had gone well.
He asked the butler to have him announced to Carrie. He was surprised when the family’s butler said that the earl wished to speak with him first. Surprised and unsettled. What could the Earl of Launceston want to say to him? He had met the man only a few times, because the earl suffered from gout, which kept him confined for days at a time to his rooms.
The only way to discover what the Earl of Launceston wanted was to follow the butler to a door. Jacob hid his astonishment. Usually, he knew from his few lessons with Carrie, a footman would be responsible for that task. Clearly the butler considered the duty important enough to do it himself.
When the door opened, Jacob realized he had been in the room before. He had spoken with the earl’s heir briefly there, and at that time, he had taken note of little about the room other than the huge portraits of horses and hounds on the walls. Other smaller pictures were scattered between them. It was a room meant for men, and the faint smell of tobacco suggested it was one where they could raise a cloud without bothering the ladies.
He noticed all that in the moment before he looked at the earl, who sat by the tall windows. The earl’s dark hair, which he had bequeathed to his children, was woven with gray. His face was finely wrinkled, especially around his eyes, which were a peculiar shade of silver. That suggested he was a man who smiled often and easily, but his expression was serious.
“Lord Warrick,” the butler intoned as if Jacob had initiated the meeting and his arrival were a surprise.
Jacob decided to ask Carrie about the butler’s actions later.
“Thank you, Baricoat,” the earl said, his voice deep and resounding.
The butler nodded and bowed his head before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
“Sit, Warrick.” The older man chuckled. “Despite what my children may have told you, I am no ogre.”
“No one suggested you were,” Jacob said quickly before realizing that the earl was jesting. He dropped into a chair close to the earl’s.
“I can ring for tea, if you are hungry,” the earl said, “but I am told that Caroline intends to include serving tea among her lessons with you today.”
A heated flush climbed out of Jacob’s collar. With Carrie, he could forget how silly it was for a grown man to need a tutor. He heard no disparagement in the earl’s voice, but talking about the lessons made him uncomfortable.
“No need to look embarrassed, young man.” The earl leaned back in his chair and pyramided his fingers in front of his face. “Any man who stops trying to better himself is a fool. I realize your uncle did nothing to prepare you for the role you have been given. You should be commended for your efforts.”
“Actually, your daughter is the one who deserves praise. She is very patient with my fumbling attempts to absorb what she is trying to teach me.”
Once more the earl laughed, and Jacob relaxed, pushing his spectacles into place yet again.
“My children can be quite single-minded when they have a goal. If I know my eldest, she will soon have you ready for court.”
“I would rather avoid that honor.”
“I understand completely, but are you planning to attend Parliament? Your uncle stopped going long ago, even though he received many requests to make an appearance. I know you did not know Maban Warrick, but he was a man who made his own rules and cared little about anyone else’s.”
Jacob nodded. “That is what I have heard of him.”
“What I have heard about you, young man, suggests you are making excellent progress updating your mines.”
“Thank you.”
“It was sad to see your uncle pay less and less attention to the mines and the miners as his health and mind faltered. He did not leave Warrick Hall for the last decade of his life, and he received no one but his mine captain for the final five years.”
“I did not know that.” He wondered why nobody had mentioned this to him.
“From what my daughter has told me, I thought that might be the case. Your uncle was a broken-hearted man. He never recovered from the loss of his betrothed.”
“I did not know he was ever betrothed.” He thought of the cradle Carrie had discovered in the attic. Had his uncle had it made when he believed he would wed? “How did his betrothed die?”
“You would know that answer better than I because his betrothed married your father.”
His eyes widened. He had no idea his mother had chosen one brother over the other. So much about his reclusive uncle suddenly made sense. Why would Maban Warrick want to provide support for the family of the woman who had married his brother instead of him?
“I did not realize,” the earl said, “this would be a surprise for you.”
“My father never spoke of his brother, and my mother died when my brother and I were fairly young.” He wondered if his stepmother knew about the family’s past.
“If I had known that, I would have been more tactful in mentioning the rift between Maban and your father, Austol.”
“I appreciate knowing the truth.”
“Good. From what I have heard of you, I thought that might be the case. Now tell me about your plans for Warrick Hall. Caroline mentioned that you are trying to prevent its further decline.”
Jacob outlined what he intended to do. The earl interrupted him with suggestions for repairs Jacob should consider. When the earl changed the subject to the past in western Cornwall, Jacob thought of his own father entertaining them with stories in their cramped cottage. Neither he nor his brother had felt the pinch of poverty when Father had them laughing at his tales of someone he had met or something he had seen.
Not once had Jacob sensed the terrible loss his father must have felt every day of his life after he won the heart of his brother’s betrothed. How did you overcome it, Father, and live your life? He lowered his head and changed the anguished question to a prayer to his heavenly Father. Help me overcome the loss that haunts me, so I can live the life You want for me. I cannot believe You wish me to be mired in grief and guilt. Show me the way.
He opened his eyes and focused on what the earl was saying about long-ago visits to Warrick Hall. In his mind he could hear Carrie urging him to have faith. He must while he waited for an answer to his prayer. He hoped it would come soon.
* * *
Carrie admired the arrangement on the bedside table. A trio of books were stacked next to a glass lamp. Draperies of the same green hung beside the two windows that reached from the floor almost to the ceili
ng. The books were histories of Cornwall she had found in a musty book-room. If Jacob’s family was anything like him, they would enjoy reading such titles. She was pleased the tomes had aired out enough so she could place them in the bedroom.
Even a week ago, in spite of her words to bolster Jacob’s hopes, she could not have imagined how Warrick Hall would be ready by the time his family arrived. The servants she had hired on Jacob’s behalf had been a huge help with shifting furniture and cleaning. She had found other workers willing to paint the handful of rooms that had to be finished in time for Jacob’s guests.
The gold parlor, a small dining room, a withdrawing room for the ladies and enough bedchambers were ready for Jacob and his family. Along with the corridors connecting them, the rooms had been emptied, scrubbed and redecorated. New mattresses had had to be obtained, because, despite the three cats’ best efforts, mice were found nesting in every one.
The past fortnight had passed in a blur of getting Warrick Hall ready for guests, continuing Jacob’s lessons, and spending time with her family enjoying the first weeks of Advent. She was relieved that Maris was handling the preparations for the annual New Year’s Eve open house at Cothaire. Her sister-in-law had fewer and fewer questions for her each day, and Arthur was stepping with far more ease into the role as Cothaire’s host as he prepared to take on that task for the open house as he had many of Father’s other obligations.
“Ah, here you are.” Jacob came into the bedchamber. He nodded to the maid who was folding freshly laundered blankets and placing them in the chest under the window, then smiled at Carrie. “You have worked wonders.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I took some paintings from the attic and brought them into the bedrooms. With the new bedcoverings and draperies, the bare walls looked stark.”
“You didn’t bring any of the grim ancestors, did you? I fear they will give guests nightmares.”
Laughing, she said, “No, I selected ones I thought would be soothing rather than frightening.”
“The smartest thing I did was to give you carte blanche. Without your help, I would probably still be standing in the attic trying to decide where to begin.”
“I doubt that.” She adjusted the lamp, then appraised the tableau again. “What do you think?”
“It looks fine to me.”
“I thought the books would appeal to your family because they are not familiar with Cornwall. The county has had an interesting history.”
“Beverly is not much interested in history.”
“I shall look for something else to put on the bedside table for this room.”
He waved aside her words. “That won’t be necessary. I doubt she will do much reading anyhow. She prefers conversation to words on a page.”
“Of course, it is necessary.” She wagged a playful finger at him. “Jacob, as the host, your only thoughts should be on the comfort and needs of your guests. Every minute of their visit.”
“Is that what you do when I call?”
She laughed. “You are at Cothaire enough now to be considered a family friend. I noticed you addressing my siblings by their given names after you joined us for dinner last week.”
“These ‘Lord This’ and ‘Lady That’ started getting tiresome.”
“Wait until you go to London. You shall have ‘Lord This’ and ‘Lady That’ and ‘Sir So-and-So’ and ‘His Grace’ as well as ‘Her Grace’ everywhere you turn.” She paused, then asked, “Are you going to London for the Season?”
“I doubt it. As I am not looking for a wife now and I have pressing duties here, I see no reason to go. Are you thinking of going up to London yourself?”
“Me?” She shook her head vehemently. “No, thank you. I am beyond that nonsense. I prefer spring in Cornwall.” Appraising the room again, she said, “This is set. The maids will keep dust out. If you allow the cats to continue to wander in here, they should make sure none of the mice return.”
“Beverly would not appreciate that.” He smiled. “My stepmother is a tolerant woman. Of most things, but mice are not among them.”
“I am looking forward to meeting her.”
“You will when they arrive.”
“No, not then.” When he started to protest, she hurried on. “Jacob, this is your first time being the host for your family since you became Lord Warrick. You don’t need me nearby to make you nervous. You have learned so much, and it is time for you to put those lessons to work. In addition, you have not seen your family in many months. You will want time to be together.”
“Miss Bolton will be here, and she is not part of my family.”
“She is part of your brother’s family. Also, Jacob, your family will be fatigued after their long journey. They will not wish to be put on display for your neighbors.”
“You are right.” He gave a terse laugh. “As you always are on these matters. Do you have any advice on making them feel at home?”
“Act as you always have with your family, and that will put them at ease. As for Miss Bolton, you must let her direct the course of your conversations. That is what a gentleman does when he is spending time with a young lady.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before? I have not always let you lead the direction our conversations go in.”
She slapped his arm with a chuckle. “Jacob, you and I are friends. We talk about what we talk about. It is not as if you are courting me.”
Walking out of the bedroom so he had no chance to reply, she pointed out the changes she planned for the corridor. She was relieved when he approved each one, including the pale yellow she wanted to paint the walls above the wood paneling that probably had been installed when Queen Elizabeth ruled Britain.
“How is Gil?” Jacob asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“Did you see him and Joy downstairs?”
“No. I didn’t realize they were here.”
She peeked into a room as they passed and was glad to see it had been painted the light blue she had picked. Turning to Jacob as they continued along the hallway, she said, “Gil asked to come because he hoped to see you and thank you for the tool board you made for him. He has been having a wonderful time with it.” She had been almost as delighted as Gil when Jacob had brought him a gift on his most recent visit to Cothaire. On the board, Jacob had affixed bolts and nails connected with twine. “He loves loosening the nuts, and I found him using a shoe to pound on the nails.”
“He is supposed to pluck the twine to make sounds.”
“He prefers loud noises like the smack of a heel against the nails.”
“That sounds like a boy.”
“Several times,” she said as they continued along the corridor past the other bedchambers, “he has asked if we could visit your engine house. He has heard everyone talking about it, and he wants to see it.”
“Is he interested in science?”
She paused and faced him. “Maybe he is, but he wants to spend time with you. Perhaps we could arrange a time for him to visit.”
“I would be honored to give the children a tour.” His expression darkened. “Carrie, I must admit that I have done little to help in your search for the children’s parents. I have asked some of the miners, but they have not been able to tell me anything new.”
“I appreciate you talking to them. Someone knows the truth, and if we keep asking, someone may err and reveal it.”
“I will do my best.”
She almost reached out to put her fingers on his arm as she would have to anyone else she wanted to thank, but kept her hand by her side. “I know you will. Jacob, may I ask another favor of you?”
He rested one shoulder against the wall. “After everything you have done to help me, I would be a cad to say no. What can I do to help you?”
Had he moved away from her slightly because he
had sensed she was about to touch him? Or had he guessed that she had restrained herself? Either way, she needed to change the subject to one less personal than her children.
“Would it be possible for you to bring the children from the mining village to the Porthlowen church so they can be part of our Christmas pageant? We are sending a wagon from Cothaire as well, but it won’t be big enough to hold all the children who want to come.”
His easy expression faded. “Won’t they want to join in the celebrations at the church closer to the mines?”
“There is nothing being planned for children this year there. Mr. Minden still is feeling poorly, and spending extra time in a cold, damp church could make him sicker. Raymond offered to have the children come to the Porthlowen church, so Mr. Minden can concentrate on regaining his health before the worst of the winter cold arrives.”
“I think that is wise. Do you think I should give Mr. Minden a look-in to see if he needs anything?”
She shook her head. “He would feel obligated to play host because you control his living. If you want to send him your good wishes, ask Mr. Hockbridge to deliver them. He mentioned to the Winwood sisters that would be the best way to let Mr. Minden know we are praying for him. The sisters spread the word.”
“Mr. Hockbridge and the Winwood sisters have created a very efficient communications system.” His words sounded clipped. Was he bothered about rumors about her and the doctor? The talk would not stop, and she had felt everyone’s eyes on them when she greeted Mr. Hockbridge after church yesterday.
Jacob should know better. She had made it clear in every way that she had no interest in remarrying. Even if he failed to remember that, he should have seen for himself that she had no time for wooing while helping him and overseeing the children.
Her own voice was taut when she replied, “But you have not answered my original question. Can you provide a cart to bring children from the village to the Porthlowen church to practice for our Christmas pageant?”
“Of course, I will have someone drive the children to Porthlowen.”