“Still, to be so near, you must enjoy all that the town has to offer.”
“Yes. Well, we come in twice a week for Mrs. Hurst to take in the waters.” Louisa said this as if it were a trial.
As the town disappeared behind them, the landscape changed again. The land sloped gradually upwards. To the right, steep cliffs dropped off to rocky shores. To the left, rolling fields of farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see.
In time, a magnificent set of wrought iron gates bearing a gilded crest came into view. A man worked to remove a tree which had fallen across the gate. Beyond the gates was a spacious park leading up to a towering stone edifice- more of a castle than a house.
“Who lives there?” Caroline asked.
“That is Raven’s Cliff, the home of Baron Connally,” Louisa answered. “Ancient old man. Not very pleasant, in my opinion. I met him during our last visit. I hope we will not spend much time in his company.”
S
Theo swung the ax with a loud thunk. The tree branch that he had been chopping at finally gave way and came down with a crash. No one who saw Theodore Connally would suspect him to be a baron. Dressed as he was, in plain brown breeches and thick Wellington boots, with his white shirt undone at the neck, he looked like a servant. Theo had never grown accustomed to his duties as Lord Connally. His entire life, he had shirked the responsibilities laid upon his shoulders. First, by remaining at school the entirety of his studies at Oxford. Following that, he made for Ireland, where he spent the next five years living as a vagabond. He had not even returned when his father passed away.
The end of his tour brought Theo back to Raven’s Cliff, and even now, he was doing everything he could to avoid assuming his father’s mantle. A storm the previous night had knocked down a large tree and one of the branches had come down across the gate, rendering it impassable. He gave the ax another swing, beginning to chop the fallen branch into smaller pieces which could be hauled away.
Mr. Hodge, the head gardener, came along the path, bringing a wheelbarrow.
“Ye ought not to be out here doing my job, m’lord. Wouldn't it be better for ye to be visiting your tenants, lettin’ them know their Lord Connally has returned?”
“I have no desire to greet my tenants,” Theo answered. “And besides, you need the assistance, and I enjoy the work.”
“Oliver could’a helped, or one of th’ other gardeners.” Oliver was Mr. Hodge’s son, and Theo’s best friend.
“I sent him to work in the orchard, readying it for the summer harvests. There is much work to be done.”
“Aye, m’lord. An estate like this needs mor’n three gardeners, especially when one of them is an old man with a bad back. It is my fault for letting the grounds get to such a state. I’d a hoped I could depend on Jack and Bill to help me after I fell off that ladder last spring, but–”
“It is not your fault,” Theo reassured the older man. “My father did not maintain the estate in his final years. It is due to his negligence that things are in their present condition.”
Theo took up the ax again, determined to make good on his promise to clear the fallen tree before dinner. Mr. Hodge began gathering the smaller branches into the wheelbarrow.
A coach rolled along the lane past them. Through its windows, Theo glimpsed a beautiful redheaded woman. He set down his ax and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“I wonder who they are,” he said out loud. Not many coaches passed that way.
Mr. Hodge tilted his chin in the direction of their neighboring estate. “I ‘spect that will be Mr ‘n Mrs Hurst. Mrs Bird came by the day before yesterday, tellin’ me they planned to return to Fairclough, along with Mrs Hurst's sister. Miss Bingley, I think her name was.”
“Reggie Hurst. Yes I remember him. Old chap is married now, is he?”
Mr. Hodge nodded. “I ‘spect so. Will do Old Mrs. Hurst some good, having company at Fairclough. She hasn’t entertained in a while, on account of her health. Might be nice for you too, m’lord, to have more young people in the neighborhood.”
S
“Here is our estate,” Louisa remarked a short while later as they turned off the lane into an elegant park. “Hurst, wake up.” Louisa nudged her husband's foot, jolting him from a snore.
He looked around sleepily, blinking his eyes. “Are we there yet?”
The carriage drew up to an impressive mansion, modern in design. A semi-circular portico with four columns graced the entryway and served to soften the hard rectangular lines of the building.
The interior was no less impressive. They were shown into a drawing room with gold floral wallpaper and lush furnishings. Seated upon a wide, red and gold sofa was a large woman who could only be Mr. Hurst's mother due to the strong resemblance between them. Mrs. Gilbert Hurst reclined with her legs propped up on an ottoman, her ankles poking out from her skirt like two fat piglets beneath a rug.
Mr. Hurst went to her with open arms.
“Reggie!” she exclaimed, embracing him and kissing his cheeks. “Do sit down by Mummy and have some cakes.” She gestured to a three-tiered tray laden with cakes and sweets. Mr. Hurst immediately began helping himself to the treats, while his mother took a bite from her own plate, heaped with goodies.
She brushed the crumbs from her lips with her thumb. “Louisa, dear, I would stand to greet you, but as you can see, I am quite the invalid these days. I do not stir out of doors except to go to the spa. And you must be Miss Bingley.” She turned her eyes to Caroline.
