Louisa followed Rhys up the narrow servants’ staircase, and then down the hallway to the main one before reaching the west wing. He opened the door to their bedroom to allow Louisa to enter first, but when she noticed he didn’t follow, she looked at him, confused.
“Good night, Louisa.”
“Good night?” she repeated. “Er, aren’t you, um, coming in?”
He did not smile or smirk at her. Instead, he only took a single step into the room, causing her to instinctively step back to make room. To her devastating pleasure, he bent at the waist and leaned forward, his lips barely grazing her ear before he whispered.
“Do you wish me to?”
“I… Um… I mean…”
But she couldn’t gather the words. Seconds stretched and Louisa was desperate for him to wrap his arms around her and haul her over to the bed, but at the same time she was so unbelievably terrified of what that would be like that instead of answering, she froze.
Slowly, Rhys pulled back.
“Tell me what you wish, Louisa.”
Her cheeks burned like a yule log.
“I… I don’t think I can.”
“Hm,” he sounded, nodding his head once. “Then good night,” he said before closing the door promptly, leaving Louisa all alone.
Chapter Six
Life at FenwickPark had proven to be quite an improvement for Louisa, though she was hesitant to admit it considering that she had only been in residence a fortnight. But living in the country was so vastly different than town life and she couldn’t help but note the contrast.
Every morning, Louisa would awaken to the sound of a rooster crowing, just as the sun was starting to light up her room. It had been difficult to fall asleep the first few nights. Ribbiting frogs and insect songs had replaced the constant humming of the city that had lulled Louisa to sleep during her time at Uncle Malcom’s house. But she had adapted quickly and now had a routine.
Once she awoke, Louisa would wash her face in the water basin next to her vanity. She would unbraid her hair, brush it out, and tie it up in a length of ribbon. Then, she’d wrap her hair into a bun and secure it with another piece of ribbon before changing into one of her morning dresses. Then, she would leave her bedroom and make her way downstairs to the kitchens, where she would often find Mr. and Mrs. Crawford making breakfast.
Meals at Fenwick were meager to say the least, but they were always fresh. Bread, butter, apples, berries, jams, and eggs were usual fare for breakfast, though other essentials like cheese, bacon, and milk were scarce. Mrs. Crawford explained that while they had to buy their meats since they didn’t have enough livestock yet to fill their stores, the milk and cheese was a personal problem.
“A what?” Louisa asked one morning, after inquiring about the milk. She had been taking her tea without milk for nearly a week.
“It’s something to do with the cow,” Mr. Crawford said from the half barrel basin. “She’s lonely.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his wife said, rolling her eyes. “Cows can’t be lonely.”
“Then explain why she’s been refusing to be milked.”
“She’s not refusing to be milked. It’s just that, well, there isn’t any.”
“Is she old?” Lousia asked.
“Not older than two years,” Mr. Crawford stated. “The lieutenant just purchased her this past winter.”
“And she’s been a stubborn thing ever since she came here.” Mrs. Crawford sighed as she pulled out the handheld toaster from the fireplace. She turned and expertly delivered the warmed pieces of bread to a large plate at the center of the wooden table. “But the lieutenant has a soft spot for injured animals.”
“Is she injured?”
“Not anymore. She had been part of a large herd a few towns away from here you see, when the lieutenant bought her. She had gotten lost and had tried to give birth to a calf in the woods, not too far away from here, but it was a difficult birth. The calf did not survive and by the time the farmer found her, she had been out in the cold, wet snow for several days.”
“Oh dear.”
“He was going to put her down, believing that she’d be better off. It’s not lucrative to nurse a sick cow back to health, but the very day the farmer had planned to, well, do her in, the lieutenant arrived, looking to purchase a few dairy cows. The farmer said he would be happy to sell him one or two, as it was still early in the winter, but he needed to put this one down first.”
“But the lieutenant intervened and instead of getting two proper cows, we now have a moody animal that refuses to produce.”
