Entering the room, Elise saw Weston standing in front of the fire. Having removed his jacket, he was rolling up the sleeve on his injured arm in preparation for her care. She took a moment to take in his form before he noticed her presence. With his back to her, she could see he was much stronger than many men his age as he seemed to keep himself active, not living a life of leisure that many within polite society succumbed to. His dark brown hair was just on this side of being too long and held a slight wave. She noticed how his waistcoat clung to his trim figure and the riding breeches he wore highlighted his muscular backside. His stance showed him slightly favoring his left leg again due the injury received in battle. Everything about him screamed masculinity, and it was hard not to appreciate it in the way one could not look away from a painting by one of the masters.
Forcing herself to walk forward, Elise sat the tools down, and holding out her hand, silently asked for permission to examine his arm. Weston held the arm out and she began unwrapping it to reveal the wound. She was relieved to see no signs of infection and that the stitches had not pulled. While there was redness around the cut as it was still fresh, it did not seem inflamed and was not warm to the touch. “It looks to be healing well so far, but you must be careful not to use the arm too much for the next few days while the skin is mending.” He did not respond but watched her closely as she began to carefully clean the area around the stitches. He winced as she passed over the deepest part of the cut, but he held still and silently allowed her to continue her ministrations.
“Thank you,” Weston said as she rewrapped the forearm after applying a generous helping of her salve to prevent irritation. Complete, she guided his arm up to rest, cradled against his chest.
“You may want to consider wearing a sling for a few days so you will not be tempted to overuse the arm,” Elise said. Though she knew it would be a hard sell for the active and stubborn man, she had to at least try and make him do what would be best. She was surprised when he placed his other hand over hers, which still lingered on his arm. Warmth rushed through her at the contact and she started to blush, a reaction which was not normal for her but had now happened twice in his vicinity. Looking up, she met his gaze and was held captive by his deep, coffee-colored eyes. There was such a feeling of connection between them that it made her breath catch. If he had stepped forward to kiss her, she would not have stopped him. The realization was overwhelming, as Elise had never found kissing to be a welcome experience in the past, and she broke away from his hold.
“Let me see to the cut on your temple and I’ll release you for the day,” she said in a brisk tone. Elise applied the salve to his temple as quickly and efficiently as possible and forced herself not to thread her fingers through his strands of silver once again as she so desperately wanted to. Stepping back and cleaning up the materials, she took a minute to compose herself. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, back in control of herself. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your graciousness in allowing me to stay here. I will await a new contract from you.”
“I’m happy we have been able to resolve the matter to your satisfaction,” Weston replied. “Thank you again for your care,” he said as he lifted his arm. “I promise I’ll try my best not to strain the stitches.”
“I’ll want to take them out in about ten days. Keep changing the bandage and let me know if there is any sign of infection—and you can pilfer more of Nora’s baked goods on your way out,” she said with a laugh.
The smile he gave her at that pronouncement was enough to light up the room, even with the gray day outside.
CHAPTER7
It had been just over a week since Reid last met with Lady Elise, and he was anticipating seeing her again. Keen to get her the new rental agreement, knowing how uneasy she felt about the situation, he had hoped to bring it to her sooner.
The task had been delayed however, as it had been an extremely busy stretch of days. Fairleigh’s return brought with it the sobering reality of an earldom in decay. The steward revealed that Reid’s father had stubbornly refused to make any modernizations or improvements over the years, and with the bad harvests for the past few seasons, the estate was under water. He wanted to sell off much of the land connected to Cliff House to cover costs and decrease liability from holding land that produced such low yields. However, as Reid suspected, the entailment had hindered his plans and prevented most of the land from being partitioned. Fairleigh reported that with his hands tied, the earl sunk into despair, likely leading to the illness that ultimately took his life. It explained why he had charged such an unfairly high rent to Lady Elise. She had been desperate enough for a fresh start to accept the unfair terms, and he had used that to his advantage and taken as much from her as he could.
Reid and Fairleigh had spent much of last week in either his study going through the ledgers, or out touring the estate and meeting with the tenants. He was appalled at the run-down condition of many of the tenants’ homes and vowed to use his own money to fix up the properties until the estate was once again profitable. He did not want the Weston name to be associated with neglectful landlords, and he would not let those dependent upon him live in dire circumstances.
Last night had been long, as he and Fairleigh stayed up into the small hours of the morning creating a list of priorities for the estate. Top of the list was fixing up the tenant homes, then finding a way to quickly improve the soil and increase the crop yield for the following season. He also needed to find a full-time employee to care for livestock. Many of the farmers also raised sheep and needed assistance to keep their flocks healthy and thriving. Although Reid’s head was spinning from the amount of work that needed to be done, he could not neglect his governmental duties—unrest continuing to spread across the country since the violence in Manchester.
Breathing in the crisp air, Reid turned Midnight and rode toward the dower house. The weather had taken a decided turn and fall had fully settled in. Rain over the past few days had been welcome as they were approaching the harvest and the crops could use a final boost, but had also left the roads slick with the dirt and dust that had accumulated in the dry months. He took his time travelling, not allowing Midnight her head as she would have liked. It was best to be cautious in the conditions as the main road followed the cliff edge and could be treacherous when conditions were not ideal. Rounding a corner, Reid was unsettled to see a group gathered around a wrecked wagon, and he pushed the mount harder, adrenaline taking over, though he was still cautious. Drawing closer, his stomach dropped when he saw a figure pinned beneath the overturned wagon. Dismounting as soon as he had reached the point of the accident, he sprinted to where a few of the local farmers were gathered.
“What happened?” Reid barked, using the commanding tone from his days as an army officer.
“I heard the crash before I seen it,” a local man responded. “I figured with the roads slick, they were going too fast and lost control.”
Edging his way through the small crowd, Reid stopped still when he recognized the body under the wagon. A local healer was crouching over Jed, and as she turned to look up at his approach, she shook her head and said, “He’s gone, best turn our attention to Nora.”
Reid snapped his head up, frantically looking around. He spotted a few people hunched over another prone figure next to a tree at the cliff’s edge and ran toward them. Just then the sky opened up and it began to rain in earnest. Even from a distance, he could see that Nora would most likely not survive the injuries to her body. Choking back tears, he asked, “Is there anything that can be done for her?”
The man nearest to him shook his head. “No, my lord, she’s already gone. Held on for a bit, but passed quiet like, just a moment ago.”
Reid closed his eyes as he held back the scream that wanted to rip from his throat. Swallowing his grief, he knew he needed to take control of the situation. A calm came over him as he reverted back to Captain Claybourn and began issuing orders to those around him. A plan was quickly formed to bring the bodies back to the local church for preparation, with others already working to remove the wagon from the road. One of the horses had also been severely injured and had already been put down, the second was taken to the local blacksmith to be looked over and treated for minor injuries.
“Someone will need to go and notify Lady Elise,” one of the ladies spoke up.
“I’ll see to that,” Reid replied. Knowing she would be heartbroken; he would need to break the news as gently as possible. “I’ll set off there now, please send up to Cliff House for anything you may need for the funeral arrangements.” The last was said through a thick throat as Reid tried to push back the tears that were threatening. Remounting, he rode away as quickly as possible, giving himself a moment of space to regain his composure before seeing Lady Elise.
Reid must not have been able to arrange his expression as well as he thought he had, because the moment he approached the door of the Dower House, Lady Elise threw it open and demanded to know what was wrong. “There was an accident on the road,” he said, twisting his hat in his hands.
Eyes widening, she shakily asked, “Where are Nora and Jed? They were out getting supplies in town.”
“I’m afraid the wagon overturned on the slick road and—”
“Where are they?” the lady cried, interrupting him before he could finish and tell her the full news. “Take me to them at once!” She ran past him toward the road, not heeding the rain. He ran after, grabbing her arm to stop her, as he could not let her see them unprepared. She tried to wrench free of his grip. “Stop! You have to let me get to them; I have to help them!” she cried frantically.
“Lady Elise, stop!” he yelled, desperate to gain her attention. Pulling her to face him, he grabbed her other arm, holding onto her as he looked into her eyes. “There is nothing you can do,” he said as gently as possible. “They are already gone.”
Lady Elise stared at him for a minute, pupils dilated from shock and the rain dripping down her face before her expression twisted in pain. “No!” she screamed. “I don’t believe you.” With a force that seemed to come from nowhere, she broke free of his hold and stumbled toward the road. Realizing she would not rest until she saw it with her own eyes, Reid let her go but followed close behind, leading Midnight down the hill.
When they arrived back at the scene, Lady Elise rushed toward the two men lifting Nora’s broken body into a waiting wagon. Grabbing on to the woman’s hand, she crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Unsure what to do, the men stepped back and stood uneasily, allowing her a moment with the woman she had loved as a friend and mentor before she was taken away. Reid approached slowly and crouched down next to her, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder.
“Lady Elise, you have to let her go,” he said quietly. “The men will take her and Jed to the church, and the ladies will prepare them.” She shook her head and continued weeping uncontrollably. Watching her grieve tore Reid’s heart apart. Her emotions were so raw that it made him feel almost embarrassed to be a witness to such a private moment of pain. “I promise I’ll bring you down to see them, but we have to go. Say your goodbyes, and then let’s get out of the rain.”
