Chapter Ten
It had snowed!
Hecate stared from her bedroom window, trying to remember the last time she’d seen snow in October. It dusted the ground, clung with tiny fingers to the tree branches and coated the shrubs that still held a few dead leaves. A very light fall, but given the month and the fact that it was supposed to be autumn…
Nothing about this year had been in any way normal, and something inside her trembled a little at the hardships that would have to be endured should they be heading into another savage winter.
The fire in her bedroom was banked low, and the air was chilly enough to discourage lingering in her nightgown for very long, so she dressed quickly and headed downstairs to the small parlour, more than ready for a cup of tea.
Finn was already there, his cheeks rosy, his eyes bright.
“You’ve been outside,” she said, observing all the evidence.
“Indeed I have. ’Tis colder than a witch’s…well, it’s damn cold.” He caught himself up before voicing a common description that involved intimate parts of a female witch’s person.
She stifled a laugh. “I’m not surprised.” Pouring herself tea, she gathered toast and came to the table. “Did you walk?”
He shook his head. “No, but I did sweep off the top steps. We don’t want any of today’s visitors to slip and fall. They might ask to be housed here while their bones heal.” He sipped his tea. “I couldn’t stand the thought of that.”
She grinned. “You are an intriguing element hereabouts, Finn. You are single. A war hero…in their minds, anyway. And you are well-spoken, so that indicates well-educated. Nobody has been so crass as to inquire about your financial worth, but you can wager that it will come up soon enough.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I preferred it when we were quiet. When it was just the two of us.”
Hecate’s heart thudded at his words. She opened her mouth to answer, then paused. She had to be careful…her emotions and feelings about this man were still in their fledgling stage. Whether they might turn into anything more than that was yet to be seen.
She could not—must not—betray herself.
“I agree that it has become a lot busier. But I suppose that’s how it is in the country.”
He smiled. “Ah, yes. I do recall a busy front door step at home in Ireland. And you are, essentially, correct. Country folk are more sociable and more supportive of each other. I suppose they have to be, in order to survive. Especially now.” He glanced out at the snow once more. “I could wish that our visitors leaned more toward the supportive than the social, however. Some of those looks I receive…” he rolled his eyes.
“Let’s hope the snow will keep visitors away today, in spite of our clean front steps. I’ve been hoping for an hour or so to ask you your thoughts on our stables. We do need a mount, and possibly a gig. But we also need to be able to feed and house the horses, and I’d like to protect a gig as well, rather than leave it outside and prey to the elements.”
“So you’re thinking of expanding then?”
Their conversation ranged over the subject, with Hecate listening to Finn’s suggestions and Finn paying close attention to her comments.
Two hours later, both Hecate and Finn were bent over some plans of the buildings that comprised Doireann Vale, deep in a discussion of the best way to enlarge the stables and perhaps add on some kind of covered kitchen garden. Hecate was hell-bent on harvesting her own vegetables if at all possible, and since a conservatory was out of the question, she was proposing a glass-house instead, or a walled garden, using the walls of the stable for economy.
“And think how easy it would be to move the fertilizer,” grinned Finn. “A bucket full from the stable, mix into the garden soil—and you’ve got the best vegetables around.”
“In that case, we should think about cattle as well. Their fertilizer is also praised, I’ve heard,” she retorted with a giggle.
“If we’re going to talk about sh…”
Before he could finish his cheeky sentence, their attention was distracted by the sound of a loud knock on the front door.
Hecate sighed. “Damn it all. Here we go again. Not even the weather can keep an eager mother at home.”
*~~*~~*
Finn was about to make his escape, when Dal walked into the parlour, followed by a tall lad.
“You’re pardon, Miss Hecate. This gentleman says he’s been sent by your brother Mr. Richard Ridlington. His name is Frank Worsnop and he’s here to be your…er…” Dal consulted a small piece of paper. “General chap-around-the-place.”
Hecate giggled and rose with a warm smile, taking the paper from Dal and glancing through the few lines it contained. “Mr. Worsnop. I’msopleased to see you again. And so glad Richard thought to send you to me.” She moved to his side and held out her hand in welcome.
The lad, colouring all the shades of red there were, wasn’t quite sure what to do with the hand, but he left off crushing his cap, and took it, giving it a brief shake along with a quick half-bow. “Uh…thank’ee, Ma’am. Mr. Richard says I’d be a ‘elp ‘ere, an’ ’tis better fer me than ‘angin’ ‘round ‘ome an’ mopin’ w’out our Davy.”
