“Your concern is noted, Michael.” She managed a smile. “But I shall write and let him know you are a loyal servant to him.”
“There are dangers out there, my lady. Not many wolves these days, though they have been known to sneak up and steal a weak ewe. There may be thieves and rogues.”
“I'm not afraid. You do not send Jem without a pistol, do you? If he will lend it to me, I'm aware of how to use one.” It had been a while since her last hunt with her father, but she was confident enough with a hand gun.
“You won't be swayed.” Michael's mustache twitched and he clapped his cap on his head. “Very well. It's been some time since we had a shepherdess. Jem can teach you what you must know.”
She hardly looked the part and the doubt near dripped from her servants, but what use was sitting around doing nothing with her time? If it kept her busy, she might not long for home so much or worry about Papa every waking moment.
Michael led her away from the house and they took a winding path through a wooded lot. The gentle swells of the land were more than she'd bargained for when she dressed. Her skirt caught on bushes and her feet ached by the time they caught sight of the flock.
Jem waved as she approached. He inclined his head to her. “You look peaked, Lady Eleanor. What are you doing so far from the house?”
She'd never been so tired in her life, not even after a parade of balls during her first Season. “I am well enough, Jem. I've come to learn everything you can teach me about sheep.”
The boy looked at his father.
Their matching expressions of uncertainty nearly made her laugh.
Michael nodded. “It's what she wants.”
Jem held up his palms. “I don't know anything about teaching, my lady. You're apt to leave as confused as you were when you got here.”
“We shall see. You can start by telling me about this herd.”
“I'll head back if that's all right, my lady. You're in good hands with Jem.” Michael gave a little bow. “He'll bring you back before supper tonight when the other boy comes to replace him.”
“Thank you for your assistance in getting here, Michael.” She dismissed him with a nod. “Now, what am I looking at specifically, Jem?”
“Merino ewes. About a hundred of them.”
“Where is the ram?”
“Kept separate. He brings them into heat too soon if he's around them too often.” Jem flushed. “But I shouldn't say things like that around a lady.”
“Forget that, boy. I am here to learn about sheep and that means everything, I suppose. Then these are not bred yet?”
“No, my lady. Not until January. We'll have lambs in April if he does his job right.”
“Very good. Are they tame?”
Jem shrugged. “Not like a pet dog. They're skittish and should be. They're buggered hard to catch when shearing time comes around. They don't care much for it, I guess.” He colored again. “Pardon my tongue.”
“Never mind that now. That dog there, he's trained to watch them so they do not wander off, yes?” She pointed at the black, long-haired dog with its gaze glued to a ewe.
“Yes, my lady. That's Griff. He knows the commands to round them up and drive them back to the pens at the house when the time comes. He never lets them stray from his sight. Griff's a good dog.”
“I will need you to teach me those commands so I can tell him what to do when I'm out here alone.”
Jem stared. “Alone? That won't do. A lady of your station—”
“Does what she must, boy. Even if it means watching a mob of sheep in winter's cold or driving rain.” She placed her hands on her hips. “There is something good about watching a flock. They will bring us money and help restore Lanthrop Downs.”
“I suppose.” Jem's mouth twisted. “Pardon me again, Lady Eleanor, but you're odd. No woman I ever heard of from London would want this work.” His face colored again. “I shouldn't have said that.”
“Never mind. Out here, we are in the same station, Jem. This is a good lesson to show you we do not always get what we want. Even ladies.”
“Aren't you a little afraid?” Jem followed as she approached Griff. The boy moved faster than her, with energy born of youth. He wore a dusty cap over his dark brown hair and his skin was smudged with dirt. The slight nip in the autumn air gave him rosy cheeks. His face glowed when he called the dog and it came running.
Jem ruffled the dog's fur. “Griff, meet Lady Eleanor. She's going to work with us while we watch the sheep. Shake her hand.”
Griff offered his paw.
Eleanor laughed as she accepted it. “How charming. Did you teach him that?”
“Yes, my lady. He's a right quick learner.”
Griff sniffed her hands, then wagged his tail. His ears perked as he noticed the sheep moving.
“Back to work, boy.” Jem flicked his hand toward the flock.
The dog raced toward them with his glossy fur flying.
In the distance, a blood bay horse cantered across the land. The rider leaned over the animal’s neck. They rounded the sheep, although the herd fled. Griff sped after them.
“There's the Duke of Greenebuck.” Jem raised his arm to wave.
Eleanor snatched his hand from the air. “Don’t. I have no wish to bring him here. What is he doing riding on my land?”
Jem frowned. “He often does, my lady. Why shouldn’t we be friendly? Have you met the duke? You’d like him, I think.”
It was too late. Goodwin pointed his mount toward them.
“Drat.” She spun, turning her back on the approaching rider.
“What’s the matter, Lady Eleanor?”
“You are not to tell him that’s my name. He isn’t to know I’m out here with you. Do you understand, Jem? It’s important. I have to go.”
Jem protested, but she lifted her skirt and ran.
* * * *
“Females. I'll never understand them.” Jem shook his head. “They're a lot of trouble, aren't they?”
“I do not think we're meant to understand them.” From Jair's back, Daniel clutched the reins as Lady Eleanor fled. “Perplexing woman. You're right to say they're trouble. Most of them are. What was her excuse for running this time?”
Jem shrugged. “She says you're not to know she's here. Though you clearly already do. Telling her again is no use.”
“What are her reasons for coming out here with the sheep?”
“She says she wants to learn everything about them. Why would a high-bred lady want that, Your Grace? I was born to this and I don't want it.”
Daniel laughed. “She is a mystery, boy. I cannot imagine her reasons. I would like to know them. Lanthrop Downs is hardly the place for a lady alone.”
“I overheard my mum and dad talking. They're saying Lord Aldshire's gravely ill. Doesn't even know his own daughter.” Jem twisted his cap between his hands. “Lady Eleanor must be upset.”
Or driven to hysterics to leave London for the sheep-filled fields of Sussex. Daniel nodded. “That explains her presence here. I will drop by later to offer my support if she needs it.”
“She won't see you.” Jem, at thirteen years old, seemed wise beyond his years.
“Then I'll have to catch her off guard, won't I?”
The woman in the wool riding habit had piqued his interest far beyond his normal fancy for the young women draped in the colors of the Season.
“She wanders about Lanthrop House like a scared cat. I doubt you'll be able to sneak up on her.”
“We shall see. I will give her a few days to settle in. When she's least expecting it, I'll drop in. How is that for a plan, my young friend?” He grinned at Jem. The boy seemed to find the entire situation puzzling. But as they'd established—women frequently baffled and enthralled Daniel in equal measures. “I will win her over, Jem. Have no doubts of that.”
“If anyone could, it would be you.” Jem beamed. “It'll be nice to have you back around at Lanthrop House.”
“It will
be nice to return. If you hear anything more about Lord Aldshire, come around and let me know. There's a shilling in it for you.” He touched the brim of his hat and nodded at the boy. “I'll see you again soon.”
“Of course you will.” Jem waved.
Daniel turned Jair for Glassodder property. Throw the servants a nice word or two, treat them as people, not possessions, and they were willing to do nearly anything. His own servants hadn't learned that yet, not after his father's iron rule. The help at Lanthrop Downs was more trusting and eager to help him. After a long day at his own frosty home, sitting in the kitchen with Betty's delicious meals was a far more comforting thing than eating alone in his dining room. He missed the company greatly. With a little luck and some charm, he might be back enjoying it soon. Regardless of what Jem believed.
He let Jair canter back to the stables although rain sprinkled from the sky and turned to a heavy shower when they reached the courtyard. He handed the horse off to a stable boy. Perhaps things would be simpler if he contacted Aldshire's solicitor and asked to buy the property. No more finicky neighbor woman, no more denial to the house. The land was good for sheep, which would bring in the money it would take to pay off the place. But it wouldn't solve his incurable fixation with Lady Eleanor. One way or another, he'd speak to her again.
Rain soaked into his riding attire. Cold and nasty and just the thing to make him lonelier. Dreadful weather. If not for the hunting and his desire to write in peace, he'd pack up everything and move to a warmer climate. One well away from curious redheads.
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
CHAPTER SIX
“Lady Eleanor! You forgot your dinner.” Lizzie bounded from the doorway, her arm outstretched with the dangling basket.
Eleanor smothered a groan. “Leah. It's only Leah, remember?” One would think after a fortnight in commoner's clothing, Lizzie might recall the talk Eleanor had delivered to the staff.
Lizzie's face paled. “You're right. Forgive me, Leah. There's an extra tart in there for Jem. He eats like a starved pup.”
“I will see that he gets it. Thank you, Lizzie.”
The autumn wind carried a cold chill. Eleanor hugged her wool shawl closer. Over the course of the latter half of the month, the rain had come in long bursts. It left the ground soggy and difficult to navigate. Fortunately, it hadn't turned to snow yet. That weather might spare them for a while.
She looped the basket over the bend in her elbow and tucked her hands into the shawl. In her haste to have more peasant-like clothing commissioned, she'd neglected gloves. The kidskin covering her hands wasn't quite warm enough for this weather and far too fine for a person in the station she was pretending to occupy. But out among the sheep she never saw anyone except Jem or Michael. She was safe enough wearing them for now.
Soupy mud sucked at her feet and the wind stung her cheeks. The dismal weather dampened her spirits. It made her long for the comforts of her home in London and her sisters' cheery chatter, but the sheep depended on her to watch over them. Jem would want his dinner and a break from sitting in the cold. If she could parade around ballrooms on aching feet nearly night after night, she could endure a bit of foul weather.
Because winter was quickly approaching, Michael and Jem had driven the sheep closer to the manor. They had smaller pens set up for them. With the grass dormant, it became necessary to begin feeding the animals from the hay storage. The only advantage she saw in the actions was that she didn't have to trudge as far to reach the flock. Or as far to return to her warm bed.
Jem was nowhere in sight when she reached the stone pen. Griff glanced toward her, gave a slow wag of his tail, then returned his gaze to his charges.
“Jem?” She set the basket near the gate. “Are you around, boy?”
The soft bleat of hay-munching ewes was her only answer.
Until she heard him swear.
“Jem!”
“I think you've offended a lady, boy.”
Eleanor's breath caught. Someone was out here with them. It wasn't his father, either, for she'd seen him tending the horses before Lizzie chased her down.
Jem emerged from a clump of evergreen trees. He had mud up to his waist and streaked across his face. “Forgive me, Miss Leah. One of the ewes is stuck in the wretched mud. We've been trying to free her for near an hour. I'm cold, wet, and tired.”
“Who is with you?” she whispered.
“The Duke of Greenebuck, of course. He was out exercising Jair when he came across my plight. I'm right thankful for his help, truth be told.” Jem swiped his forearm down his face. “I'm give out, Miss.”
Fury surged through Eleanor's body. “He is not supposed to be on this land. Did you remind him of that?”
“No, Miss. I'm afraid I forgot. There were three of these silly beasts stuck before. With his help, we've freed two and they're none the worse for the wear. You ought to be thankful he came along. They might've died by the time you got here.”
Shame chased away her anger. “You could have come back to the house for help.”
Jem rolled his eyes. “And leave them unprotected? That's as bad as breaking a law. Can't do that.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what he would have done if Goodwin hadn't arrived, but snapped it shut again. The duke in question, also filthy with muck, carried a soaked ewe from among the trees. Eleanor pulled her scarf higher.
Goodwin froze when he saw her.
“Do you think she'll survive?” Jem studied the ewe.
“I expect. She's exhausted from fighting to get free, but if you will start a fire and let her rest by it, she should warm again quickly.”
Under the greenish-brown coat of mud and the stink of sheep, Goodwin's fine riding clothes were most likely ruined, but he didn't seem put out over his predicament. Sapphire eyes burned into Eleanor's.
“Introduce your friend, Jem.”
Jem's mouth stretched into an uncertain line and he grimaced as he gestured at Eleanor. “Miss Leah. She's a shepherdess my father hired under Lord Aldshire's orders.”
Eleanor dropped her gaze and curtsied. “Your Grace.”
He'd recognize the lie immediately. Most of her hair was stuffed beneath the hood of her cloak and scarf, but a few bits whirled around her face in the wind. She prayed he didn't remember the carriage accident. Perhaps he had other things on his mind than one chance meeting with his old friend's daughters.
“Leah,” Goodwin said. “And are you a local girl?”
“I am from Kent.” Lies, lies, lies. Her face burned.
“I see. Have you had much contact with the mistress of Lanthrop Downs? I hear she's mysterious. Won't allow a single visitor.”
“She's...reclusive. In any case, it's not my place to seek her out. I watch her flock.” Her heart pounded an uneasy rhythm.
“Keep them away from the stinking bogs so I don't have to return to dig out more. Jem, that fire.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Jem set about gathering the driest kindling.
Goodwin placed the ewe on the ground. It didn't attempt to run, just lay placidly while it shivered.
“Stupid blasted creatures. I understand the appeal of the money the wool brings, but I cannot picture raising them for a living.” Goodwin folded his arms. “Standing out in this weather to make sure they do not come to any harm is a fool's errand.”
“A necessary evil.” She retrieved her basket, then lifted a jug from it. “There is hot mulled cider. Betty made it. You should have some to warm yourself.”
“Lady Eleanor wouldn't approve of your gesture.”
Eleanor kept her eyes averted. “You might be surprised. After all, you did save her animals from certain death.”
He uncorked the jug. “For that, she should grant me a favor. Wouldn't you agree?”
“What sort of favor?” Wary, she took a step back.
“Supper with her would do. Tell her. I will await my invitation. Or if she has no desire to grant me access to Lanthrop House, she's invited to Gla
ssodder any time.” He took a long drink from the jug.
“I will tell her, Your Grace, but I hope you won't be disappointed when she rejects your proposals.” Beneath her woolen clothing, sweat beaded at her neckline. Why won't you give up?
He passed the jug to her. “You may tell your mistress that if she rejects my offer—either of them—that I shall ride my horse right into her house and let him stomp about until she comes to meet me.”
Eleanor swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why are you so set on seeing her? What could she possibly have that interests you?”
“We met once. Not so long ago. I am merely curious about how I offended her. And I should like to discuss her father's health.”
“I would help if I could, but I know nothing of his lordship nor Lady Eleanor's reasons for turning you away. It's best not to distract her. She badly wants to restore Lanthrop Downs to its former glory.”
“One evening away from her task couldn't hurt,” he muttered.
“I will tell her, Your Grace. Perhaps she will have a moment of pity.”
“Pity?” He tilted his head. “I am not one to be pitied, girl. If anyone deserves pity, it's Lady Eleanor. Trying to restore this place. She would be better off to convince her father to sell it. And Lord Aldshire, sending a girl here to do his work. What sort of madness is that?”
“Do not talk about my—” She bit the tip of her tongue. “About my employer that way. He is doing his best. Lady Eleanor is smart and capable.”
“Loyal to a fault, but saucy. You are a handful, Leah.” He cupped her face and tipped her chin up. “Quite lovely too.”
Her whole body shook as warmth from his hand coursed through her. “I am nothing special, Your Grace.”
“Goodwin.” His eyes sparkled. “Let's be friends. If you do not think your lady will have an issue with it.”
Her breath rushed out in a plume. “I couldn't speak for her, though friendship may not be the wisest course.”
“Lady Eleanor would never need know what happened between us while you played nursemaid to her sheep.” A wicked grin complimented the glow of his eyes.
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