Which reminded her of how far she had come since she’d taken the first eventful step into Wolfbridge Manor. And also raised the question of what she was to do with the estate. Keeping it functioning was not as hard as she’d expected, since everything worked like clockwork, thanks to the management skills of its staff. Given the small number of residents, it was no surprise.
But she was the Mistress now. She should be thinking about making her own contribution, something that would live on through the next Mistress and the ones that would come after that.
Twirling her little posy, she turned the corner and walked up the narrow road to Mrs. Barnsley’s cottage. As always, the chimney was smoking, sending puffs into the sky. Adalyn wondered what she was baking, if anything.
The ancient brass door knocker sounded a healthy clang, and she waited for her summons to be answered. A minute or so later, the door opened and a blue eye peered around it from the shadows inside. “Yes?”
Adalyn blinked. “Hullo. I’m from the Manor. Would Mrs. Barnsley be at home?”
“Oh my.” The eye blinked back and a few locks of fair hair waved in the breeze. “Can you wait a minute? I’ll get Ma.” The door closed.
Since it was sheltered on the doorstep, and the sun was weak but warming, Adalyn simply did as she was bid, and waited.
It wasn’t long before she heard yelling, and almost immediately the door opened once more. “Ma says to come in and I’m sorry I shut the door in your face, but I wasn’t to know you were Lady Adalyn, now, was I?”
Half-startled half-bemused, Adalyn just shook her head and smiled. “Of course not. It is always wise to know who is requesting entrance to your home.” She held out her hand. “I am indeed Adalyn Wilkerson.”
“You are most welcome, my Lady.” The woman didn’t seem to know if she should take Adalyn’s hand or not so she touched it and curtseyed at the same time.
Which was quite clever, mused Adalyn, as she stepped further inside and then got her first real look at this stranger.
Slim and fair, the girl—for surely she could not have been much older—had the look of her mother. This had to be Jane, Mrs. Barnsley’s eldest.
But what shocked Adalyn was the mess of red scarring down the right side of her face and onto her neck. The ivory smooth skin had been destroyed, and Adalyn’s heart went out to her as she turned away, deliberately hiding her disfigurement.
“I hope Mrs. Barnsley is well,” said Adalyn, looking around. “If I’ve come at a bad time…”
“Of course yer haven’t. Come along in, my Lady. Lookin’ forward to a bit of a chat with yer, we are.” Mrs. Barnsley’s voice sounded fairly strong, if a bit nasal, and Adalyn followed it into the kitchen.
There was the woman herself, swathed in a brilliantly hued blanket, tucked up in front of a roaring fire.
Adalyn frowned and came forward to push Mrs. Barnsley back into her chair as she attempted to rise. “My dear lady, you are not well. Sit down and keep warm.”
“’Tis naught but a cold, my Lady. Just yer keeps yer distance. Jane here has made me a good stout broth, so other than a sneeze or two, I’m right as rain.”
Guessing that being trapped in a chair for a few days would be the worst kind of punishment for a woman like Mrs. Barnsley, Adalyn merely shook her head. “You must be very glad to have Jane here,” she said politely. “If she is half the cook you are, I’m sure the rest of the family are as well.”
“She’s a good lass.” Mrs. Barnsley sighed. “But yer’ve seen her.”
Adalyn glanced around to find Jane gone. Not surprised, she pulled a chair up to the fire and sat, knowing that a chat would be the best medicine. “I did, yes. She seems a capable young lady.”
“She is that. But…” Mrs. Barnsley’s hands trembled a little as she clutched her handkerchief.
Moved, Adalyn reached out and touched the other woman’s shoulder. “If you don’t wish to talk about it, Mrs. B., I’ll understand.”
A smile wreathed the face within the folds of the blanket. “Mrs. B., eh? I like that, my Lady. Yer a clever girl and kind too, if yer’ll forgive the familiarity. So I will tell Jane’s story, fer it is a sad one, and one that has just come home to roost, as it were.”
Adalyn’s eyes were drawn to the flicker of firelight on china, and she noticed some china on the table. “Wait a moment.” She rose and walked over, touching the cup and finding it warm and half full. “I think you might keep this at your side, in case your throat gets a little dry from the telling,” she smiled, returning to the hearth and putting both cup and saucer next to Mrs. Barnsley. “It smells like excellent broth to me.”
“Tea, I should be makin’ yer tea…”
“Don’t fuss.” Adalyn stopped her immediately. “I came to see you. And you are going to tell me how Jane has come to be here and what happened to scar her so badly…”
Mrs. Barnsley subsided, muttering a little. The fact she did so told Adalyn that the older woman really wasn’t up to snuff yet. So she tucked the blanket around her more tightly and took her seat once again.
“Jane has always wanted to better herself,” sniffled Mrs. Barnsley. “A good thing, fer sure, but sometimes it doesn’t go the way yer expects.”
“That is quite true, but it’s good that Jane had the desire to learn.”
