Her embarrassment showed at having her benefactress thawing in her rude cabin. “I dinna add milk as all we have is our goat, Miss Clary. Not sure if’n you might be partial to cow.”
Elizabeth rasped, her throat parched from sleep’s enforced idleness, “Just a splash, Mrs. Tomkins; you are Mrs. Tomkins, are you not? Although we had milk cows, my mama insisted we girls drink goat’s milk when we broke our fast.She was sure the creature’s hardiness would encourage healthy growth.”
The woman relaxed as Elizabeth’s friendly nature conferred a degree of consequence: that of hostess. Mrs. Tomkins set the cup on a stool, accepted a jug from Sarah, and dripped creamy liquor into Mrs. Darcy’s tea.
The perfection of that simple act was captivating, allowing Elizabeth to sort through what William had told her about Tomkins.
‘He is one of our new gamekeepers—Charlie Tomkins—hired because Will Rochet asked it of us. Tomkins had been one of Rochet’s followers aboard Sprite but has a weak hip thanks to an unfortunately placed French ball he took for Rochet.’[1]
Maria wrote asking if we could find a place for him until the war ends. Afterward, he would live out his life at their new establishment. My Will would never turn off a beached sailor. But he said nothing about the man having a family.
A gamekeeper’s lot is meager, paying maybe twenty pounds a year, along with this cabin, produce from the home farm, and what he can take from the woods. There isbarelyenough here for one man and is thoroughly unsuited to keeping a wife, let alone three little ones.
Understanding the Tomkinses’ poverty, Elizabeth appreciated the gift of tea as if from the Magi’s trunks. She sat up, retrieved the cup and saucer, and leaned back against the wall to enjoy the drink’s fragrance.[2]
Her peaceful reverie was shattered as the door slammed open. Two men, one laden with firewood and the other hauling water buckets, shouldered their way into the room. Although a shawl muffled his head, Darcy was instantly recognizable. The snow piled atop his greatcoat dropped onto the porch’s floorboards, reacting to his comical foot-to-foot shaking dancebeyond the threshold. A few icy remnants dangled from wool’s fuzz.
A snow-caked cape wrapped his hatless companion. This man lowered the buckets, carefully removed his wrap, rolled it snowy side in, and limped past Darcy, who was filling the wood box. Unlatching a rear door, the man opened the blanket and shook it into the dark passage that, by the warm fug flowing in, accessed an outbuilding, likely the stable.
Doors closed, the two men sought out their ladies.
Darcy stripped off his gloves and knelt on the rough-hewn planks by the head of the bed. He removed the saucer and cup from Elizabeth’s hands before capturing them in his own, chilled despitehis gloves. “Elizabeth, dearest, are you well? I have been fearful that the time I took to fetch Tomkins would be your undoing.
“Remember how long it took you to recover after Ben…”
And, dear man, are you impervious to a blizzard? Your concern for your dependents—voluntary or not—is one of your most endearing—and infuriating—traits. Gently, though, Lizzy, Will seeks to present himself as invulnerable, yet, like a diamond of the first water beneath a cleaving tool, one slip and worthless shards fly everywhere.
Throat soothed, Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, Will, rest restored me. As you can see, Mrs. Tomkins has me bundled like a plump coney in my winter burrow. The tea was helpful.
“And, dear one, women have been giving birth sinceEve! Bearing your son wearied me; however, I am back to my old self.”
She motioned for her cup. After another sip, her voice dropped to a whisper that matched her concerned look. “But ought we not be on our way? We have imposed on the Tomkinses’ hospitality long enough. They have been the soul of generosity.”
Darcy sat back, his eyes showing his resignation at being unable to give her an affirmative answer. “The snow is not letting up; if anything, it is heavier than when we crashed. Luckily, Circe found Tomkins’ stable, but our sleigh is useless.
“Tomkins knows the weather here on the ridge. He tells me that we could see another foot before it blows itself out. With the wind howling as it is, the drifts could be man-high or more.
“We could be stranded here for several days.”
Elizabeth looked over her husband’s shoulder to see the other couple tête-à-tête. “I see Tomkins is breaking the same news to his wife.
“Although, Will, I thinkstrandedimplies distress. On the contrary, we are warm and in happy company.”
∞∞∞
Mrs. Tomkins reached up and gently gripped her husband’s shoulders. “Now, Charlie Tomkins, you have nothing to be ashamed of. No, we did not expect to be entertaining anyone this holiday season, least of all the Darcys.
“But the Lord sent them to our door, and He doesn’t do anything without a good reason. Mayhap, we are to be learning something; mayhap,” she looked at the other couple, “they are, too.”
Resolved, the lady shook herself and patted Tomkins’ broad chest with both hands. “What Tomkins House may lack in consequence, we will make up in welcome.”
Tomkins bent to kiss her bandanaed crown. “Aye, Sally Tomkins, your heart is too big to be trapped in a gamekeeper’s cabin. You should be the lady of a grand manor.
“Our hearth may not have a massive chimneypiece, but neither did we have a great cabin back onSprite. Somehow,though, the Cap’n found a way to entertain ole Adm’r’l Croft and Mrs. Adm’r’l when we hurried ’em from Kingston down to the Pool.[3]
“Think ’twas the Cap’n’s mama, Madame Rochet, who schooled her son in good hosp’itality.”
Then Tomkins jumped back to the present. “’Tis colder than a witch’s…” he paused, remembering he stood in Derbyshire and not Drake’s Passage, “…Uh, the wind is making it nigh unto impossible to see more’n ten feet. Cold, too.
