As he spoke, Lionel's gaze fell upon the scattered letters, his fingers brushing one that stood out for its plainness amidst thefancy scripts and wax seals. He picked it up and turned it over. “What is this?”
Cecilia peeked up at the letter. “Oh, that’s from a Mr. Hatch, one of our tenants. He invited us to a small celebration they’re hosting. I thought it would be a pleasant diversion, but I assumed you wouldn't have the time.”
Lionel smiled softly, memories of his boyhood flooding back. “Mr. Hatch has sent these invitations every year since my father’s time. I haven’t attended since… well, since the...” He trailed off, a wistful look in his eyes. “He was a good friend of my father.” He looked at Cecilia, resolve hardening his features. “In the meantime, I suppose we can begin to set things right with this.”
“You mean, we’re going?” Cecilia glanced up at him with hope glimmering in her tear-filled eyes.
Lionel nodded. “Yes. Reacquainting with the tenants will help build our reputation in Thornhill. It’s a start, and perhaps, a way to show them that the Duke and Duchess of Thornhill are not so distant after all.”
CHAPTER 25
Dappled sunlight pattered through the gaps in the leafy canopy above. Summer and Thor followed a wide path through the woods that lay to the south of Thornhill Castle. The path was an ancient trackway, lined by hawthorn and hazel with stone mile markers peeking from among the long grass and ferns. Those markers were mottled by moss and lichen, their inscriptions barely legible after years of weathering, a testament to the time that had elapsed since they had been placed. Lionel and Cecilia rode side by side through the deep wood. Cecilia was beginning to feel the constricting pressure of worry easing as they rode. Whether it was the freedom of riding, the peacefulness of the country, or Lionel’s newly rediscovered attentiveness, she did not know. He glanced at her and she smiled. He smiled in return.
“I miss it when it is not there,” he suddenly said.
“Miss what?” Cecilia asked.
“Your smile. You have smiled since the first day I met you, drawing me to you each time. Only when that smile seemed to have departed for good did I truly appreciate it.”
“Fortunately, you give me plenty of reasons to smile,” Cecilia chimed.
“But do I? It seems to me that I give opportunities for tears. With my obsession.”
“I do not begrudge your quest,” Cecilia replied, “but I can see the damage it is doing. I will not sit idly by and watch you eaten alive by it.”
Lionel reached across the divide between them to take her hand. He squeezed it and Cecilia was comforted by the strength of his grip and the gentleness.
“Being in your company is enough to soothe my heart,” she murmured, “you make me feel safe.”
“You are safe,” Lionel told her, kindly.
Cecilia thought about the offer from Sir Gerald Knightley. How safe would she be if she took up that invitation? Surely, he and Thorpe were not so degraded in their characters that they would assault her? Or try and hold her against her will? She had considered taking Peggy along as a witness but could not bring herself to put her dear friend at even the slightest risk. No, if itmust be done, it must be done alone. If it must be done at all that was.
For now, though, Cecilia did not want to think about it. She wanted to enjoy this time alone with her husband. Lionel had been beside himself at the thought that he had been neglecting her, even if it was inadvertent. The idea that his obsession could so dominate his mind that he would not even know how much time had passed since he had been in his wife’s company, had disturbed him profoundly.
With the afternoon one of pleasant warmth, they had decided to make a tour of the Thornhill tenant farms. It would be an opportunity to introduce all of Lionel’s tenants to their new Duchess, to let the ordinary people come to know her, even if the gentry did not wish to, before they set off for London. Cecilia breathed in deeply the scent of bark, grass and the sap rising in the trees. It was a deliciously outdoor smell, finer than the most expensive French perfumes. Their ride had taken them in the opposite direction to the Tall Knight, with Thorpe Manor beyond. Cecilia wondered if it were the case that there were no farms to the north, owned by Thornhill. Or was it that Lionel did not want to see the manor in the distance? Even if it was the far distance.
The trees began to peter out as they approached the first farm. Cecilia could see now that the woodland marked a boundary between Thornhill and the surrounding countryside. There were no walls, fences, or hedges to delineate Lionel’s estate, merely the woods, beyond which was open farmland.
“Do the local people have free access to these woods?” she asked.
“Of course. If they did not, my gamekeeper would soon be overrun. The villagers hunt deer in these woods as well as grouse and pheasant. They help keep the numbers under control and do not take more than they need for their own table. It is an arrangement that works for all. The woods are extensive, surrounding the castle to the east, west, and south. Plenty of game for all.”
He drew Thor to a halt as the road fell away before them, looping down the side of a hill. Trees lined its route and meadows now replaced the woodland to either side. In the distance, nestled in a dell formed by the coming together of three hills, was a cluster of white buildings. A lazy spire of chimney smoke rose from one of those buildings and Cecilia could see people and livestock.
“Hatch Farm,” Lionel announced. “Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Hatch’s family, the tenants. Good people and good tenants. I fear I have neglected them somewhat.”
“Then let us get reacquainted forthwith,” Cecilia said, spurring Summer past him.
Lionel laughed. “You are not in any way shy, are you?”
“Not with the ordinary salt of the earth,” Cecilia replied, “I have spent my life among such people. I would rather dance to a farmer’s fiddle, drinking from a jug of cider than waltz in a ballroom and sip champagne from a crystal flute.”
“Then you are in for a treat. As I recall, the Hatch’s take their hospitality as a religion. They will insist we eat with them, no matter how much work is still to be done.”
Cecilia shot him a grin as she spurred Summer to a trot. “Then perhaps we should earn our keep and help them.”
It took mere moments for the two riders to come within earshot of Hatch farm. By that time, they’d been seen. A gaggle of children gathered in the main yard as Cecilia drew rein at the gate. Then a skinny man of middle years with a careworn face stepped out of a barn, pitchfork over his shoulder.
