Felicity smiled again and stared off into the distance. “Yes. He is. Papa and Mama raised us all to be kind and generous.”
“There be more of you, then?” Mrs. Bean cast a glance back inside the cottage. “Them grains ain’t never going to soften.”
“At home, Cook always added more salt and left a silver spoon in the pot while they cooked.” Felicity couldn’t help but give a soft laugh. “She swore that made the grains soften faster whenever she boiledthem.” Remembering that Mrs. Bean had asked if there were more in her family other than Chance, she continued, “And I am one of seven sisters. My brother has no choice but to be kind and generous, since we outnumber him.”
Mrs. Bean chuckled, sounding like one of the hens scratching in the yard. “He’ll be the better for having all you sisters. Makes him a finer man.”
“I hope we do.” Felicity bit off the thread and moved on to the next item in need of repair. As she started stitching the tear, she decided to repeat the offer she had made last night, even sweeten it some. “Help me get back to my family, Mrs. Bean, and I promise there will be a place for you and Edmund at Broadmere Hall. No more struggling through harsh winters ever again. When Mort’s coin runs out…what happens to you and Edmund the winter after next? But if you help me get home—and your chickens can come too if you like—you and your Edmund would be set for life. I promise you my brother would see to it.Iwould see to it.”
Mrs. Bean stared off into the distance, squinting as though trying to focus on something far away. She slowly shook her head. “If Mort and his brothers caught us afore we made it back your brother…” She unleashed a heavy sigh. “’Twouldn’t be good at all, gal. Not good at all.”
“Where exactly are we?”
The old woman nodded at a point in the distance. “Grange in Borrowdale is a good stretch of the legs that way.” She turned and pointed in the opposite direction. “Derwentwater lies not too far over there. My Edmund can be there and back with a fine creel of fish in a day.”
Felicity’s heart fell. That seemed so far from Binnocksbourne. “Broadmere Hall is near the village of Binnocksbourne. Do you know that place?”
Mrs. Bean gave Felicity a sad shake of her head. “That village be agood ways from here, gal. ’Specially since me and my Edmund got nothing but our feet for traveling. Mort and them would surely catch us were we to start out for your Broadmere Hall.”
Felicity had no doubt about that, and the journey would be even more challenging for Mrs. Bean with her cane. “Are there any neighbors nearby who might allow us to borrow a wagon? My brother would happily pay them for their troubles.”
“Let me think on it whilst I stir the porridge.” Mrs. Bean disappeared back inside, then soon reappeared. She grinned at Felicity. “I added more salt. Ain’t got no silver spoon for it, though. Maybe it will still work.”
“I am sure it will.” Feeling much the same as she had last night, Felicity really didn’t care whether or not she ever ate again. Never known for her patience, she struggled to come up with a rescue plan that didn’t involve sitting here and waiting for someone to save her. If only she could come up with a few resources, she would bloody well save herself. And she didn’t feel a bit guilty about the coarseness of her inner dialogue. Considering the circumstances, it was warranted.
She finished stitching the shirt, snapped the thread free, and then moved on to the next garment in the basket.
“There be an Irish family not too far from here,” Mrs. Bean said. “Believe they got more than one wagon, and I know for a fact they got at least two mules and maybe a horse. Always seemed friendly enough. Good folk, though there be a lot of them. Large family, they are. They might help us.”
“Might they, truly?” Felicity was almost afraid to hope.
“All we can do is ask’m, gal.” Mrs. Bean pushed up from the bench with a soft groan. “I know I couldn’t walk to your Broadmere Hall, but I could ride.”
“Might we go talk to them?” Felicity was ready to jump up and leave immediately.
Mrs. Bean leaned against her cane, her brow wrinkling with herthoughts. “I need to be the one to go. If Mort were to come back today and discover you gone, we would be ended afore we ever started. You can stay here with my Edmund just in case.”
While Felicity didn’t much care for that option, she saw the sense in it. It also occurred to her that the family might need some reassurance that they would not only get their wagon back but also receive the payment she promised.
Setting the mending aside, she glanced all around to ensure Edmund was not on the way back from chopping wood, then reached inside the neckline of her gown and unpinned the locket she always wore attached to her stays. The gold heart was the keepsake that had often consoled her whenever life proved difficult. Mama and Papa had gifted it to her years ago, and it kept their portraits close to her heart.
“Here.” She held it out to Mrs. Bean. “Give this to the family. Tell them it is my dearest possession in all the world, because that is my mama and papa inside. When we bring back their wagon and mule, I will pay them fifty pounds for the return of my locket.”
Compassion filled Mrs. Bean’s face as she opened the heart-shaped locket and stared down at the images. With a slow nod, she carefully tucked it into the pocket of her apron. “I will convince them to give us the wagon, gal. I swear it.” Hobbling over to the end of the house, she shouted around the corner, “Edmund! I be off to the Hogans’ for a bit. Our guest is minding the porridge. You watch everything close in case old Mort comes to call. Understand?”
Apparently, the silent Edmund nodded, then resumed chopping the wood. Mrs. Bean returned to Felicity and pointed at the door. “Once it finishes, you and Edmund eat. There be bread on the table too. I can wait to eat after I return.”
“Be careful, Mrs. Bean.” Felicity set the mending basket aside and rose to her feet. “What will you say if you meet Mort?”
“That I was gone to borrow some herbs ’cause you be unwell.” The sly old matron winked. “If’n he shows up, you take to that palletand act sickly in case he comes across me afore he comes here. Understand?”
“I understand.” Felicity couldn’t resist giving the woman a hug. “Be careful. Surely, Mort won’t return so soon.”
“You never know, gal. He be as unpredictable as a wounded beast.”
That was what Felicity feared most. She couldn’t bear to think what he might do to poor Mrs. Bean if he suspected the true meaning of her visit to her neighbor. As the old woman hobbled away, she prayed for her safety as she went inside to stir the porridge.
*
