“How well do you know him?” Elise asked, seized by curiosity regarding her new landlord. She was anxious to learn about the character of the man who could evict her from the dower house on a whim. As Lord Weston returned to Dorset to fulfill the duties of his title, she worried he may wish to move his newly widowed mother into the very house where she had found refuge.
“Well enough,” Nora said. “Though he’s been away for a long time now, he made quite an impression on Jed and I when he was a young man.” She continued working her knife methodically through the produce before her as she began to reminisce. “He was always kindly to me, and he cared about the people on the land here. Quite intelligent too, always wanting to try some new way of working with the land, wanting to make life easier for the folk who rely on it.”
“He can’t have cared too much since he all but abandoned the place for close to two decades,” Elise grumbled. “He’s certainly never shown his face since I’ve been here, even with his father so ill.” She questioned how much the new lord could really care about what happened here if he had been absent so long. The obvious lack of affection toward his family did not bode well for her prospects of remaining in the house. She could not imagine him wanting to share a home with his presumably estranged mother after being away for so long.
“Not being present doesn’t mean he does not care,” Nora replied as she carried the prepared tomatoes over to the stove. “It was ill will between him and his father that kept him away, not a lack of care. I know you are anxious dear,” Nora continued gently, “but I don’t believe he will make a change without learning the situation first.” Nora walked over and gently stroked Elise’s hair and she leaned into the woman’s quiet strength. “There, there, don’t you fret. I’m sure his lordship will be by soon, but he has a lot to manage at present. I’ve got these tomatoes in hand, why don’t you go and collect the last of the blackberries?”
Smiling, knowing she was being dismissed so Nora could more effectively finish the work while not also needing to placate her, Elise rose and affectionately kissed the housekeepers head before making her way toward the far end of the garden with basket in hand. Walking along the path that led to the berry bushes lining the fence at the back end of the property, she contemplated what her sister, Marianne, would think of her new life. Though she had been away from her family for almost three years, she corresponded with her sister regularly and her father on occasion. She tried to explain what her life was like day to day, but it was hard to do the details justice when this world was so vastly different from her aristocratic upbringing. And though she knew they both still loved her, there was an underlying awkwardness, with her father especially, as they were unsure how to support her after the events of the ball.
Elise imagined Marianne would enjoy having more freedom as she did now and moving around as she wished, not worrying about appearances or being chaperoned. However, self-sufficiency could prove difficult for her. It was hard adjusting to doing so many tasks for oneself after being used to servants providing almost everything. Elise relished being active and the feeling of accomplishment that came with knowing she had put in a good day’s work, but Marianne had always been quieter, content to sit and be idle. Transitioning to a more independent life, while challenging, had also been freeing for her and gave a sense of purpose, similar to when she cared for her mother, that life in thetonhad lacked.
While Elise still felt ill remembering her ruination and the aftermath, she did not regret that it had happened. She had always felt stifled by the rules of polite society which were intended to protect young ladies and keep them pure and innocent. What it really amounted to was not allowing young women any space for personal happiness, or room to develop their own interests and skills as they were confined to a very narrow idea of what was acceptable. Straying from the path may have invited scrutiny and condemnation as there was no room for individuality allowed, but castigation from thetongranted Elise the space to discover her passions.
Elise found a strength she didn’t know she possessed when forced into a new reality, finding what really mattered to her and who she was when not forced into the mold of a perfect society maiden destined for the marriage market. The mental space she gained when her emotional capacity was no longer consumed by fears of transgressing the rules of thetonand what could happen if she did not follow them exactly was freeing. Yes, she had grown a strong core while acting as nursemaid to her mother, but needing to fend for oneself in a world that was not made for unattached woman to navigate on their own made her resilient, and she fought hard to make a place for herself in this new landscape.
Elise’s father had supported her in the only way he was able, giving her the funds that allowed her to set up a home here in Dorset when he didn’t know what else to do for her. She loved living near the wild coast and felt freer than she ever had in the city. Establishing a home here had taken time and hard work, but after almost three years, she felt as much a part of the community as she could given her standing. The fact that her ability to remain was now threatened by Lord Weston’s arrival made her feel vulnerable all over again. While she knew she had the fortitude to withstand change should she be forced to leave, she desperately wished to cling to the peace she had found.
Reaching for the bushes before her, Elise directed her ire at the berries, ripping them from the bushes and throwing them in the basket. Thinking about how she was once again powerless, she hated that her future was out of her hands and at the whim of a man belonging to the peerage. Regardless of Nora’s reassurances that the new earl was in fact a reasonable person, she did not trust that any lord would have her best interests at heart. As she could not advocate for herself without a husband or her father’s protection to represent her interests, she needed to rely on the grace of those around her, having no right by law as a single woman. Yes, she had drawn up a rent contract for the property with the former earl, but as she had signed on her own behalf, it was not legally binding and was upheld only by common agreement between parties. If Lord Weston did not feel compelled to honor his father’s business agreements, she would have to appeal to his better nature. Suspicious that the man even possessed one, she would be forced to lower herself to try and win him over. Elise felt her self-respect slip even contemplating the notion.
Clouded by anger and lost in thought, Elise did not hear the horse approaching the fence line until it was practically upon her. Quickly straightening to see who was approaching, her abrupt motion startled the mount. The horse reared up at her motion and the rider clung to the reigns, cursing while regaining control and contorted his body so as not to fall off the horse’s back. A hare, startled by the commotion, darted from the underbrush shortly after and the agitated horse bolted, throwing the rider forcefully into the blackberry bushes.
CHAPTER2
“Damnation!” Reid yelled as he watched the horse run away. Pushing down to raise his body, he hissed feeling the blackberry thorns pierce the tender pad of his palm and a jolt of pain shot through his left leg as he regained his footing. He quickly realized that in the fight to gain control of the horse he must have twisted his bad leg, straining it even more than extended riding usually did. Raising his arm to reposition his hat which had gone askew in his tumble, he gasped as a long, deep scratch running down the inside of his left forearm opened and began to bleed.
This was absolutely the last thing Reid needed. Adjusting to his new title as the sixth Earl of Weston, being known as Captain Reid Claybourn only a few weeks ago, was plenty for him to deal with already. It was a terrible time for him to return to his newly inherited estate, as he was trying to monitor events surrounding the Peterloo Massacre.
The previous month in Manchester, over a dozen people had been killed during a peaceful demonstration for parliamentary reform when the magistrates sent in a cavalry, fearing the crowd of sixty thousand people. The chaos which ensued had injured hundreds and enflamed the country. As an elected member of Parliament in the House of Commons, Reid had been trying to calm many of his Tory colleagues who were hell-bent on suppressing any talk of reform. It was proving difficult within the already tense political climate, heightened even more after the recent upheaval.
Now back in Dorset, his father laid to rest and transfer of the title handled, Reid had decided to ride around the edges of the estate while wrapping his mind around his new responsibilities for the land and those who depended on it. While he had always cared about the place and these people, the very last thing he wanted was to be wrenched away from his political work in London when things were coming to a head. Now, getting injured only made him feel even less in control of his present circumstances.
“Are you alright?” came a startled, feminine, voice from nearby. Grasping his arm to staunch the blood flow, Reid looked up and saw a beautiful young woman peering at him with large, concerned brown eyes from the other side of the hedgerow. “That was quite the tumble. Let me take a look at you” she said. Rushing toward the gate as she spoke, she lifted her skirts to allow for an increased pace and reached him momentarily. Dropping her basket of berries, she boldly grabbed his arm before he could say a word in protest.
“I’m quite alright,” Reid said with a wince as her probing fingers hit a tender spot. “There is no need to fuss,” he added automatically. Always one to stoically take care of himself, as he had learned to do, it was Reid’s nature to bristle at offered assistance.
“Sir, you are injured,” she replied, not heeding his protestations. “Come into the house and I’ll get you fixed up.” With a no-nonsense demeanor, she picked up her basket and turned, making her way back toward the dower house as if she owned it herself rather than him.Why on earth would someone be living in the dower house?Confused, Reid still had not made a move forward. Realizing he was not following, the woman stopped and motioned him forward with an impatient flick of her hand.
Reid tried to make sense of who this woman could be. While dressed in finer quality than most of the villagers and tenants in the area, neither was she dressed as a lady. She was completing mundane household tasks, which made him wonder if she was a housekeeper for whomever was inhabiting the residence, but she was comparatively much too young to hold such a position, estimating her to be still in her twenties. Puzzled over what exactly was going on at this end of the estate, he was startled back to the present when she called out to him to hurry. Looking up, he realized she was yards away, standing by the back door to the kitchen. Though Reid was loath to accept her help—he did need to go find and reclaim the blasted horse he had borrowed—his curiosity over the situation won out. As he approached the house, voices could be heard from inside, and a moment later, a face from his past appeared in the doorway.
“My lord, is that you?” asked Nora at the sight of Reid. Just past her, he saw the woman from before visibly stiffen at her question.
“Nora? What on earth are you doing here?” Reid couldn’t believe it was really her. Nora and her husband, Jed, started working on his father’s estate when he was still a young man off at Eaton. Nora worked in the kitchen while Jed was the land manager’s right-hand man. Reid had grown to love them over the many summer school breaks he spent at home. Jed always made himself available to answer questions about the estate and best practices for working the land, and Nora kept him company when he hid in the kitchens to avoid his father. He had felt more loved by them than he had ever felt by his own family.
Reid walked forward into Nora’s open arms, to welcome him in an embrace. And for a moment, he felt like a safe and loved young man again. Quickly pulling back, feeling foolish for allowing such a sentimental display, he could not hide his astonishment at seeing her again. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. “My mother told me that you and Jed no longer worked for her, I didn’t know if I would see you again. How is it you’re here at the dower house?”
Nora reached up and patted his cheek as if he were still seventeen and not a fully grown man of almost forty. “We don’t work for your family anymore, my lord. We came to help run the house for Lady Elise when your father rented it out to her three years ago,” she said, gesturing toward the young woman.
Surprised by the news that his father had let the property, Reid glanced at Lady Elise. Observing his reunion with Nora, she had a strange look on her face, as if she didn’t know what to make of him. He understood the sentiment as he was also curious to know more about her. Why was a lady living here, and what was she doing comporting herself as if she had an active role in running the house?
“Come my lord,” Lady Elise said in a clipped tone. “Please have a seat at the table and I will see to your wounds.”
Out of a desire for answers more than a wish to obey, Reid took in his surroundings as he walked to the table. The room looked like a large pantry, containing bins of potatoes and onions and shelves lined with jars of preserved fruits and vegetables. However, as he looked more closely, off to the side by the back door was a workspace with items reminiscent of an apothecary shop. Neatly arranged on a long table beneath the window was a mortar and pestle, vessels filled with dried flowers and herbs, and jars of salves and ointments.
“I really should go and find the horse,” he said, having no desire to be fussed over, even though his throbbing forearm was still bleeding from the cut he had sustained.
“I’ll send Jed out for the horse,” Nora spoke up. “You just sit and let Lady Elise take care of you. She knows what she’s about.”
Entranced, Reid watched the lady gracefully move about the space while gathering supplies. Though beautiful, she did not resemble any lady he had seen in society. Though her clothing was of fine quality as he had observed earlier, it was cut to be more practical that flattering, having no embellishments. Nothing about her person was ornamental in the slightest. Her glossy mahogany hair was gathered in a braid and wrapped around her head, looking like a crown as it laid atop her brow. While a becoming look on her, her hair style was not of fashion, and he was sure it was a conscious decision to keep her hair off her face as she worked rather than for aesthetic reasons.
