“Halloo!” the short ungainly woman waved back, appearing even more cheerful than the farmer. “Welcome!”
“I’m Bart Wooten.” The man extended his hand to Mr. Bateman and then to Mr. Daniels. “And this here is the missus.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir, ma’am.” This from Mr. Bateman. Mr. Daniels shook the farmer’s hand grudgingly. “We’ve run into a bit of trouble, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”
The farmer had stepped back to inspect the wheel, all the while chewing on a piece of straw. “That you have indeed. That you have. It looks like you’re will need a new one, too. No repairing something as far gone as this one.”
Aubrey peered down at it as well. The wheel appeared as though the weight of the carriage itself had caused it to crumple into two pieces.
“Not to worry.” Mrs. Wooten spoke up, “Mr. Wooten can give your driver a lift into Joseph’s Well.”
“Joseph’s Well?” Aubrey asked.
Mrs. Wooten laughed. “It what we call our little village. It’s not much. We have a church, a mercantile and of course, a tap room.”
“If anyone can help you get that coach rolling again, it will be Mr. Finch. He owns the mill. We’ll have to track him down though,” Mr. Wooten added.
“And if we can’t get on the road again today? There is an inn?” The clouds were dark and thick, and Aubrey didn’t relish the notion of sleeping outside again, especially if it could rain.
“No inn for miles.” But the woman smiled. “Never fear, dear, Mr. Wooten and I have an extra room for you and your husband, don’t we, Bart?”
“We sure do. Good thing too as you’ll be lucky to be on the road tomorrow, if then. Especially with the festival taking place this evening.”
“Oh but—” Aubrey began.
“That’s very kind of you.” Mr. Bateman placed one arm around Aubrey, speaking over her before she could correct the kind woman’s assumption. “Isn’t it,Princesse?”
Aubrey glanced to where Mr. Daniels was grousing about the wheel, oblivious to their conversation, and then back at Mrs. Wooten. Of course, the countrified couple wouldn’t be nearly so hospitable to a woman traveling alone with a gentleman who was not her husband or brother.
“Er, yes. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you collect your valise, dearie, and come up for a spot of tea while the men work all this nasty business out. And bring your darling dog.”
Aubrey stepped out of Mr. Bateman’s arm, with a questioning glance over her shoulder.
“I’ll bring our belongings,Princesse. You join Mrs. Wooten for tea. Mr. Dog will be wanting a drink as well, I imagine.”
Aubrey bit her lip, uncomfortable with the lie but understanding why he’d gone along with the woman’s misunderstanding.
“If you’re certain? Come along, Mr. Dog.” Aubrey tugged at the leading string. Tea did sound heavenly.
“Are you hungry dear? I just pulled two loaves of bread out of the oven. I’m so glad for a spot of company. Haven’t had any visitors since my niece and her husband came through last year. Mr. Wooten and I weren’t so blessed as to have children ourselves…” Mrs. Wooten suffered no shortage of conversation, that was for certain. “What of you and your husband? Mr. Bateman, is that right? Do the two of you have any children?”
Aubrey simply shook her head, glancing toward where Mr. Bateman watched her with laughter in those blue eyes of his. Of course, he would find humor in this situation. Searching for some satisfying explanation for their childlessness, without having to garner any unwarranted sympathy from their hostess, Aubrey searched her mind quickly.
“Mr. Bateman and I are newlyweds.” She spoke loudly enough so that he would hear her. His smile widened. The blighter would, of course, enjoy such a joke.
“Is that so?” Mrs. Wooten gushed.
“Yes, erm… We married little over a week ago!” Aubrey invented. “In the church where I grew up, St. Marks, in Rockford Beach.” And then her imagination took hold. “The pews were filled with family members that traveled from all of England for the occasion, so many that I hardly had a chance to speak with them all. And afterward, Mr. Bateman’s mother hosted a delicious wedding breakfast in the town assembly room. I’ll never forget it,” she blushed as she looked back to where Mr. Bateman watched her, brows raised. “Happiest day of my life.” If she was going to be married, she would at least do it her way this time.
She and Harrison had married in his parlor with her mother and his solicitor for witnesses. It had been nothing more than a business transaction, or so she had thought at the time.
“I’ll join you soon, my love!” Mr. Bateman shouted at her from behind. She didn’t quite have the courage to blow him a kiss. That would be doing it up a bit too much. Instead, blushing, she turned and lifted her hand in a quick wave.
“Oh, isn’t he handsome, though?” Mrs. Wooten chuckled. “To be young again.”
Chapter 11
