“If you will not tell me, certainly Juliet will.”
“Oh good lord, the two of you will be unstoppable.”
“Yes, I rather think we will.” She smiled at the thought, taking another bite. “Or you could just tell me.”
“Not yet. Perhaps when I have earned a bit more of your trust.”
“Fine, but I will be asking her.”
“Yes, and I will be sure to leave the study door cracked open when she arrives.”
She considered me for a moment before asking, “Do you really wish to know what she has to say about Michael?”
Ugh. “Never mind.”
“I thought so.”
“Should we set off for home?”
“I suppose. Can we return via the mill? I wish to see it.”
“We can go whichever way you like.”
Forty-One
THORNTON HALL, KENT - NOVEMBER 19, 1814
HUGH
It wasa long ride back to the house. And an even longer few days after, a stretch of cold, autumn rain delayed further work on the mill and the tenants’ roofs. In that time, I made use of Michael’s advice, flowers, drinking chocolate, and the like. After her words at the lake, they seemed pitifully insufficient.
When Tom arrived on Tuesday, he brought with him the first fine day in the better part of a week. He also brought with him all the sheet music I requested. Of course, I had no idea if any of it would be of interest to someone as skilled as Kate, but Tom spoke to a friend about it. I had left the sheets on the stand this morning, for Kate to find. I was very much hoping I could enlist Tom to solve another one of my problems in the near future. Taking Mother to Bath for the second time in as many years was quite a large request though.
He was more than willing to join me in inspecting the dower house on Wednesday morning. It had not seen regular use in my lifetime, and I was fearful the work would be extensive and expensive. He ambled along beside me, up the muddy pathway, occasionally sparing a pitying glance at his boots, now six inches deep in mud. Mine fared no better.
The dower house sat on the other side of the creek that separated my property from the Revello property Michael had purchased. It was only accessible from my side by a stone bridge, likely once an impressive structure but was now crumbling and weak in places. Without a doubt, it would need repair before Mother could be moved in. Mother’s trip to Bath was looking to be a necessity.
Tom, perhaps sensing the direction my thoughts lay, broke the silence. “Why have you finally decided to move Mother?”
“Kate is unhappy.”
“That is nothing new,” he said, distracted by his boots again.
“Yes, thank you for pointing that out earlier in my marriage. Where would I be without you alerting me to my follies and vices after the fact.”
“I did point them out, on more than one occasion if you’ll recall. And you do not pay me enough to prevent you from being an arse.”
“Your portion is significant.”
“Michael’s fortune would be insufficient to spend my days preventing you from being an arse.”
“Yes, well. My wife is unhappy. I intend to make her happy.” The walk to the house was thick with mud, which would need redone as well, it would be near impassible in a carriage.
“Ah…” he said, interest in his tone.
“Ah, what?”
“You’ve finally discovered it.” Why was Tom like this? When had he become incapable of answering a simple question?
