Closing the door to ensure she was adequately covered, Kate put her hands to her cheeks and breathed in deeply before peeking the door open a smidge and poking her nose through it.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to speak to the lady of the house.”
Kate blinked, considering her response. He clearly assumed her to be the maid, and it chagrined her. But what else could she expect after answering the door in her nightclothes?
Oh, goodness. She was in her nightclothes. She cleared her throat and spoke with as much authority as she could muster. “This is my home. What may I do for you?”
He eyed her dubiously, his arms crossing over a worn, linen shirt. The man wasn’t well-dressed himself, and she was certain by his attire that he was of the working class. Hitching a thumb behind him to indicate the lane, he said, “I saw that carriage bringing ladies to the house yesterday, and I wanted to know if it was time to report back to my duties.”
“Which are?”
He cleared his throat and said, proudly, “The stables, ma’am. But since the horses are all gone, I should think I could step in and help with the gardening now. Until you’ve got horses back proper, o’course. Or a gardener.”
Kate watched the man awkwardly rock on his feet. The sun could not have been in the sky for a full hour even. She was tempted to tell the man he could have whatever job he wished so long as he let her be. But how she acted now would determine how her servants viewed her in the future.
“You have experience as a stable hand?” Kate asked.
“I ran the stables, Miss Kingston. And I’d like to do it again.”
“Are you the only servant left?”
He looked uncomfortable and fidgeted again, crumpling his cap in his hands. “Most of them left. I can get my hands on a few stable hands and the under gardener. Probably a housemaid or two.”
That would help immensely. Any additional servants would be an improvement on their currently deserted state. “All previously employed here?”
“Some of them.”
Kate nodded. “You have yourself a deal, sir. What is your name?”
“Henry Gibson.”
Sliding her hand through the gap, she poised it to shake. Mr. Gibson looked at her strangely before he grasped her hand and they sealed the agreement. Perhaps that wasn’t the sort of thing a mistress of the manor did. Kate pulled her hand inside, firmly determined to learn and act her part.
Glancing at the wide expanse of lawn behind the man, she wiped her hand surreptitiously on her wrapper. “How did you arrive here today, Mr. Gibson? Larkfield is a four-mile walk.”
His neck turned red, and Kate had to bite back a smile.
“I’ve been staying in the quarters above the stables.” He threw up his hands in defense. “No one said I couldn’t!”
“That is correct, sir. No one was here to say that you couldn’t.” He seemed to relax at her demeanor. “Can you explain what happened to the horses?”
Mr. Gibson let out a hearty laugh that let Kate know exactly what he had eaten for breakfast—something slathered with onions. Or maybe an onion itself. He slapped his cap on his knee and grinned at her. “For them horses, you’ll be wanting to see your neighbors.”
“Which neighbors are those?”
“Evanslea.”
As if that was any more help. The name was certainly familiar, but it had been nearly a decade since Kate had last lived at Split Tree and she’d only left the prison of a house one time. Any knowledge she had of the people in the area came from eavesdropping on servants.
Calling on the reserves of patience she had built up through years of teaching small children, Kate calmly inquired further. Obtaining the direction to Evanslea, she thanked Mr. Gibson and sent him to secure whatever workers he could, requesting they call at the house to finalize terms of employment with her housekeeper.
It hardly mattered that she did not yet have a housekeeper. She would find one.
Alice was missing from the parlor when she returned, though the blankets had been folded—and still the slippers remained absent.
“There has been a change of plans, Alice,” Kate said, finding the cook in the kitchen. Alice had been pulling items from the cupboard, rearranging the kitchen to suit her needs. She looked up at Kate with a raised brow on her freckled face.
“We are going to get ourselves some horses.”
They walked down the road and past the split tree before turning left at the lane beyond the woods. It seemed to stretch eternally before them, the road running the length of the woods with thick, dense forest on their left and a large expanse of open countryside to their right. According to Mr. Gibson, this lane led directly to the neighboring estate—though he seemed to think approaching them about purchasing a horse would be a fruitless effort. Kate disagreed. If this Evans family had just acquired the stock of her uncle’s stables, then surely they had at least one or two beasts they would be willing to part with.
She had with her the blank bank drafts Mr. Montgomery had given her and hoped these people would be good and fair about quality and price, since she had no earthly idea what the going rate for a horse even was.
“What if they don’t want to sell us a horse?” Alice asked, a look of worry marring her pretty features. Her freckles stood out against the pale skin that was finally receiving a bit of sun and her red hair shone in the sunlight.
“Then maybe they will agree to rent us one or two. At least until we obtain our own.”
Alice nodded, but the worry did not leave her face. Kate was doing her level best to remain optimistic through each curve, but she felt as though she was trying to learn to speak Gaelic, so foreign were the troubles she faced.
“Alice, I had wondered something,” Kate began hesitantly.
“Of course,” Alice said.
“How would you feel about taking on the mantle of housekeeper until I have found a proper replacement? I assume a good housekeeper will need to be acquired through an agency, and I just think that with all of the servants we will need to interview, it might be wise to have someone to manage them in the interim.”
Alice laughed, loosening the knot in Kate’s stomach. “It was uncomfortable speaking to the stable man this morning?”
“Dreadfully so.”
Alice let out another peal of laughter that unlocked the chuckles pent up in Kate’s chest. She freed them and her shoulders lightened immediately. The sun shone down on her upturned face and she grinned at Alice.
“I can do that, if you wish it. You know, you really ought to laugh more, Miss Kingston,” Alice said. She nodded to the pencil stuck into Kate’s coiffure. “Perhaps you ought to add it to your list of things you need to do. It might alleviate some of those tensions.”
Kate shot her a wry smile and then stopped dead in her tracks, pulling back on Alice’s arm when she noticed a man standing just five feet before them. “Oh!” she said quickly, her body flushing cold at the startle. Kate brought a hand up to rest on her breastbone to calm her beating heart. “You startled me.”
He was taller than she, but not significantly, and dressed in riding attire, leading a horse. There was something vaguely familiar about his classically handsome features and sand-colored hair, but she could not place how she recognized him.
His eyebrows hitched up on his forehead, and his gaze flicked from Kate to Alice before he delivered a bow fit for a London drawing room and quite out of place on this deserted country lane. “Forgive me,” he said, his voice smooth. “May I be of assistance to you, ladies?”
“We are hoping to reach Evanslea. Might you be able to tell me if we are headed the right way?”
A slow smile spread on his handsome face, nearly knocking the breath from Kate’s chest. He bowed. “I can do you one better, for I should be privileged to escort you the remainder of the way.”
“That is very kind, sir,” Kate said, trying to keep her answering smile demure. She figured she was more than likely beaming at the man.
Such kindness and chivalry was likely to make her blush, so unused to it as she was.
He stepped closer. “I am Martin Evans, and my home is just up the road here.”
“Pleasure,” Kate murmured. She fell into step beside him as Alice pulled back a few paces and then to the side of the lane to avoid the horse trailing behind Mr. Evans. “I hope you will forgive our unusual behavior, but we have come on a matter of business.”
“Oh?” Mr. Evans lifted his sandy brows. “With whom, might I ask, am I to do business?”
Kate blushed, glancing to the road before smiling back into Mr. Evans’s stormy eyes. She felt an inkling of familiarity looking into his gaze. “I am Miss Kingston and this is my housekeeper and cook, Mrs. James.”
Stepping beyond the woods, they came upon a large stone house built after the Palladian style. Long gray columns lined the front portico with evenly spaced windows in three rows. The house put Split Tree Manor to shame, and Kate found herself struck by its elegance and beauty. The long, smooth lawn that ran the distance to the house was wide and level, and she could see the edges of a flower garden toward the rear of the house that she had to assume was just as lovely.
“It is beautiful,” Kate said on a breath.
“Thank you, Miss Kingston,” Mr. Evans said with no little pride in his voice.
Taking his offered arm to walk across the lawn, Kate began to think that maybe moving to Split Tree Manor had not been such a bad idea after all.
8
Kate
Seated in Mr. Evans’s study with Alice to her left and Mr. Evans across the giant oak desk, Kate felt small. Mr. Evans’s kind features were fixed into a pleasant smile. He appeared as though he had all day to devote to her, and she felt silly for taking any of this man’s time—let alone on such a desperate errand.
“I have recently moved into Split Tree Manor,” she began, slightly gratified at the surprise in his expression. “And I was informed that all of the horses in my uncle’s stables have been bequeathed to you.”
“You are Bartholomew Kingston’s niece? I suppose I should have gathered as much. It is not very often I find a lovely young lady and her companion walking my lane.” His lips formed a generous smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thank you.” Kate dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I am prepared to do my best to bring Split Tree Manor back to proper working order once again, but I find myself in need of some transportation.”
“I see,” Mr. Evans said, sitting back in his chair. “Allow me to offer you the use of our horses, Miss Kingston. Our stables are at your disposal, and you may come and go as you wish.” He gestured with an arm, and Kate felt all the sillier. But she had walked this far, and she was not going to back down from her original goal now.
“I had rather hoped to purchase some horses from you.”
Lines formed on his forehead. “Oh?”
“And a carriage.”
He gave her an indulgent smile. “Shall I throw in a coachman as well?”
Kate stilled. She had not come to be mocked, and it was difficult to know if Mr. Evans was in earnest. His smile spoke of kindness, but there was an enigmatic glint in his eye that left her uncertain. “I realize how extraordinary I sound. I was directed here by my stablemaster, but if you do not have what I need, I will take my business elsewhere.” She rose from her seat.
“Wait, Miss Kingston,” Mr. Evans said, his hands raised.
Kate paused before turning away—though she could not so easily stem the blush rising up her neck.
“I was not mocking you.”
Giving her full attention to the man, it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Truly,” he said, coming around the desk to stand beside her. He lifted one of her hands in his own, his familiarity stealing her breath. “Our stables have recently grown substantially, and while I cannot promise you a horse that previously came from Split Tree, I am certain we have one or two we can afford to part with. As far as a carriage is concerned, I have it on good authority that Mr. Kingston had a few of good quality in his stable house that I am certain have remained in working condition.”
Kate swallowed and nodded. The man looked so sincere, his stormy eyes clearing to a gray-blue that had the potential to easily sweep her from her feet.
“And what I meant by my ill-chosen words was that I would be happy to lend you a coachman until you have secured one of your own.”
Chuckling softly, Kate reclaimed her hand. “I must say, Mr. Evans, I feel rather silly. Though only my uncle’s stablemaster, Mr. Gilbert, remains, and I am sure he can drive my carriage until I find someone more suitable.”
“Think nothing of it. I am happy to assist you in whatever way I can,” he answered, dipping his head to look into her eyes like he could read her thoughts. The feeling was almost unnerving and heightened the notion that she had met this man before. He cracked a smile. “Ah yes, Mr. Gilbert. Well, as he is not here at present, allow me to lend you one of my men today.”
Kate nodded, acquiescing.
“Come, I shall get you some refreshment while we await the carriage. You may borrow one of mine until you have sorted your own, and I will send someone to retrieve it tomorrow.”
“That is most kind, Mr. Evans, but I feel as if we should discuss payment first.”
He stopped and glanced at Alice before lowering his voice. “I cannot accept any payment, Miss Kingston.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I did not come here for any favors, Mr. Evans. I am prepared to pay. My uncle left these horses to you, and I cannot feel comfortable with the arrangement unless money has crossed hands.”
“Do you not know, Miss Kingston? It is I who owe you the favor.”
Her eyebrows pulled together as she clasped her hands in front of her, searching his face. Mr. Evans regarded her patiently.
“Have we met before, Mr. Evans?”
“Yes, Miss Kingston. It was quite some time ago, and I told you that someday I would repay you for the kindness you did for me.”
Recognition fell on her like the rays of a long-missed sun and Kate gasped. This was the scrawny boy that had hidden in the tree all those years ago? He was not so scrawny now. He had grown into a fine gentleman, and Kate found herself thinking that if she could somehow show him to the maid, Lissie, then she would really know what handsome looked like—certainly nothing like Mr. Montgomery.
“I cannot believe it,” Kate said softly.
“Nor I, for I did not believe I would ever lay eyes on you again,” Mr. Evans said, taking her elbow and leading her from the room. He spoke to a passing footman about refreshments in the morning room and readying a carriage. Kate faintly recognized Alice’s footsteps trailing behind them.
“But I do not understand,” she said, once he had returned his attention to her. “How could you have known I was that same girl?”
Mr. Evans looked down at her as one would a child and grinned. “Do you think I could forget the face of my guardian angel? I have dreamed of it for many years since.”
Kate felt the blush that tinged her cheeks and looked away. Maybe she was playing the demure lady correctly for once. Could it be fate that had brought her to Mr. Evans again?
“We share something, Miss Kingston, do we not?” he pressed. “Both of us having suffered in the role of victim has given us a bond of sorts, I believe. I give you my word as your new neighbor that I shall look out for you. That is, after all, what a good neighbor would do.”
His sincerity and the hard gray of his eyes was too serious to trifle with. Kate busied herself with straightening her reticule on her wrist, unsure of what to make of his pronouncement.
She took tea in the morning room with Mr. Evans and Alice before loading into a well sprung carriage and wishing the man a good day. Leaning back on the squabs, she closed her eyes and replayed the previous hour in her mind through the entire trip into Larkfield—her cook remaining silent, allowing her the time to ponder.
Th
e borrowed coachman let Kate out at Larkins, a store which doubled as the post office in town. The bell jingled above her head when Kate and Alice stepped inside. They were greeted by a round man with a florid complexion.
“Mr. Larkin, ma’am,” he said, dipping his head at Kate. “How might I help you?”
“I was hoping to place this notice in your window,” she said, pulling a rolled paper from her reticule. “I’ve recently acquired Split Tree Manor and I have need of some help.”
Unrolling the sheet of paper, she smoothed it on the wooden countertop, vaguely aware of a woman approaching Alice behind her and asking how she might be of service.
“You are welcome to put that in the window,” Mr. Larkin said, “but if you want help quickly, you’d best see Sims across the street.”
“Sims?”
“Innkeeper,” Mr. Larkin explained, taking the paper and holding it up to read Kate’s handiwork. He slapped it down on the counter and sent her a wink. “I’ll be sure to put this in a prime location, Miss Kingston. Welcome to Larkfield.”
“Thank you,” Kate said. She turned to find Alice and the woman with their heads bent together as they discussed something. Meandering the aisles, she perused the shop’s basic offerings, noting a distinct lack of drawing supplies. It seemed that Kate would be required to send for what she needed when she ran out of charcoals or paints.
Alice approached. “I’ve placed an order with Mrs. Larkin and secured the direction for the butcher. Shall we?”
After visiting the butcher and having a lengthy conversation about cuts and quality of meat, Alice and Kate walked to the inn for lunch.
They were seated by a rosy-faced giant of a man and ordered two meals. When the man returned with two large bowls of stew and chunks of bread, Kate gathered his attention.
“Might I ask a favor, Mr. Sims?” Kate asked the gruff-looking man. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I am looking to hire some help for Split Tree Manor. I’ve put a notice up at the Larkins’ shop, but I wonder if you might know of anyone who would make a decent housemaid or kitchen staff.”
A Forgiving Heart Page 5