“You take care of yourself, my lady.”
Though he heard the coachman click his tongue and the harness jingle as he headed for home, Juliet remained at the doorway.
Not waiting for an answer, he hefted one of the large trunks on his shoulder and brought it upstairs, setting it down on the floor of the sitting room.
When he returned downstairs, Juliet had closed the door, but remained standing next to it staring at the fire across the room.
“Would you like this one in your bedroom or the upstairs sitting room?”
She finally moved her gaze and looked at him, the loneliness in her eyes making his stomach clench. “The sitting room will be fine.” She touched the small bag the coachman had set on the straight back chair by the door. “I can carry this up myself.”
“Then I will put this upstairs and leave you to settle in.” Hefting the second, lighter trunk on his shoulder, he climbed the stairs, pleased that the third step from the bottom no longer squeaked. He’d fixed it as soon as he’d received her letter.
Placing the trunk next to the other, he stood gazing at the lighter trunk idly wondering what was inside. “Perhaps that one is her unmentionables, while the first is her gowns.”
No sooner had he said the words than the small trunk lock clicked and the lid lifted a crack.
“No, Orinda. I will not disturb her privacy.” He folded his arms and waited.
Finally, the lid closed and the click of the lock sounded in the silence. He dropped his arms. “She’s had a long journey and is very tired. Don’t send her dreams tonight. Allow her to rest.”
He didn’t wait for a response nor expect one, but turned around and strode back down the stairs. It had been a long time since Orinda had a guest. He just hoped she could refrain from scaring her great-niece away.
Striding into the parlor, he found Juliet asleep on the settee, no doubt tired from her travels. Quietly, he laid the cloak she’d draped on a chair over her and left, closing the door behind him.
He took the short path to the stable where he found her animal well cared for. Untying his horse, he walked him out before mounting. Looking back at the windows, he couldn’t see her, but in his mind he did. “Orinda, I think she needs a lot of tender care.” With that, he headed for home, taking the winding path through the woods, looking forward to his nightly dreams.
Chapter Two
Juliet retrieved theteapot from the hook in the kitchen fireplace and poured the steaming brew into the Wedgewood cup. Returning the pot to its hanger, she added sugar to her cup, then sat at the simple table in the room, adjusting the skirts of her pale gray day dress. The light from the long window dappled the room as it filtered past the ivy growing around its edges.
After a wonderful night’s rest with no dreams and no worries, she’d woken in much better spirits. She was sure the fear of the unknown had her imagining the worst and in the light of day, she could see the cottage was but a cottage, and though small, it was a home.
She took a sip of tea, grateful that Mr. Kingman had stocked a few necessities in the small larder. To think, a commoner had been in her dreams, in her bed! That had truly been a shock. Then to discover she looked exactly like her great-aunt had been another surprise.
Taking a bite of a scone from the dozen Cook had insisted she take on her trip, she wondered how the staff were getting along back at Thorndale Manor. They had all been kind to her, and she worried about them under their new lord. At least her brother-in-law had let them keep their positions.
Now, she’d have to manage her own household, which should not be difficult, since she couldn’t afford even one servant. Unfortunately, beyond making tea, she had no cooking skills.She hadn’t even known how to add wood to the fire since they used coal at Thorndale, and she’d almost caught her dress on fire when sparks sprayed after she threw a log in.
Despite the morning sunshine, her true situation began to weigh on her spirit. On the verge of tears, she started as a warmth passed over her as if she’d been hugged. It didn’t frighten her and actually made her feel better. “I imagine I should take this new existence one moment at a time.”
As if the world agreed with her plan, a finch landed on the vine outside the window. She smiled as she watched it inspect itself in the reflection before flying off. She took the last bite of scone, happy that at least she’d been able to dress herself thanks to her forward-thinking lady’s maid who’d suggested she purchase front-tying stays. She’d have never thought of that, which made her appreciate the skills of her staff far too late.
Needing a distraction, she pulled closer the little book that she’d brought down with her from her sitting area. She hadn’t remembered seeing it the night before, but as she passed through the room, the pretty illustration of a finch on the cover had caught her eye. Opening it, she read, “The diary of one Orinda Finch, formerly of Portsmouth and now of North Hampton.”
Her heart leapt at the words. This was her great-aunt’s diary! The very one who was talked about in whispers and touted as a depraved woman. While her mind told her to close the book immediately, her fingers itched to turn the page. Not truly willing to face her new life yet, she turned the page.
I, Orinda Finch, start my exciting new life today. Just two days past I was dreading my marriage so much, I lost the contents of my stomach on the flagstone pathway to the church. But today I am free and in love. I have no doubt my parents dismissed every last manservant intheir employ, and I wish I could give them all a letter of reference, but Ambrose says we must not contact them until we return from Gretna Green. I’m so happy to be journeying there that I fairly floated out of bed this morning. I am wearing my rose embroidered pink dress. I cannot express enough how happy I am to become Mrs. Miller. I’m not sure Ambrose’s good friend will be pleased. He tells me Mr.—
Turning the page, she stared at it surprised. “Mr. who?” Flipping more pages, she found them all to be blank. Disappointment filled her. Had something horrid happened? Had the friend stopped the marriage? Had the parents? Or had Ambrose simply arrived? Closing the little book, she couldn’t seem to take her hand from it. It was as if the very happiness inside radiated outward.
A knock sounded on the door, and she idly wondered who it could be. When it sounded again, she remembered no butler would be answering. She rose and quickly walked into the parlor. As she opened the door, her breath caught. Mr. Kingman stood there in the bright sunlight, appearing more striking than he had the night before.
Admiration shone in his eyes before he gave her a nod. “Good morning, Lady Juliet. I trust you slept well?”
She looked askance at him. “I’m Lady Abercorn. Yes, I slept very well, Mr. Kingman. Do you wish to come in?” She backed up to allow him to enter, though it was barely half-past nine. Not even close to calling hours. Then again, he wouldn’t be calling. He wasn’t a peer.
“Please, I’m Noah.”
