“Do you live in the main house?” Leonie asked Dora.
“No, I live with Lawrence and Beth and the children.”
“Arethere bedrooms in this house?” Leonie asked with deceptive calmness.
His mother laughed. “Of course. There is my son’s—well, yours and my son’s.” She giggled a bit as she said it, her eyes dancing with happiness. Roman knew what she was thinking. His mother was an earthy woman who adored grandchildren.
“So, there aren’t ‘seven’ bedrooms in this—” Leonie looked up at Bonhomie’s ivy-covered walls as if she didn’t know what to call it, and settled on, “Manse?”
“There is only one,” Dora said flatly.
“One that is usable,” David corrected. “There are seven. However, the roof leaks on that side of the house. You’ll also notice that the wall is weak.”
“The wall that isn’t there?” Leonie asked. She was too, too calm.
“Parts of it are there,” David answered.
His mother took charge. “Come, Leonie—such a lovely name and you are beautiful, too—let us have a small glass of my good wine and I’ll treat you with my salve.”
“Ah, anelderberry wine,” Leonie said. She glanced back at Roman with arched brows to emphasize the words as his mother took her arm. She led Leonie into the house.
Roman took a step after them. Afraid, angry... uncertain—
“My, she is a beauty,” Dora said. “Even with her face all battered. What happened to her last night?”
“An incident,” Roman said.
“Did she fall down the stairs? Run into a door? Trip over a stone in the walk?” Dora could badger a saint when she set her mind to it.
Roman had learned long ago, the only way to set her back was to meet her head-on. “Are you saying you don’t like her?” he demanded, a touch of heat in his voice.
His sister held up her hands to ward him off. “I am saying I do like her. When she first came out of the coach, I thought she will either be a shrewish witch or so sweet I will feel syrupy every time I talk to her.”
“And which is she?” Roman was genuinely curious.
“She has a spark of sass to her.”
“Dora, don’t stir anything up,” Roman warned. He knew his sister.
“I would not,” she promised. “Leonie would give it right back to me. I only use my tongue on those like you, brother. You know, the sort who are too priggish to be honest.”
That statement shocked him. No one had ever accused him of priggishness. Critics claimed he tended to follow the rule book to the letter but Roman thought of that as a compliment, of sorts. “What do you mean?” he challenged his sister, but she was already heading in the front door.
“No time to talk,” she called. “I’m thirsty for elderberry wine myself.”
Roman started after her but Lawrence stopped him. “David and I spoke to the squire about dredging the stream.”
That project was near and dear to Roman’s heart. There was a lovely stream through the nearest village of Middle Pike. It was said the fishing had once been great there, but over the years, logs and debris had blocked the stream. “What did he say?”
“He’ll bring his team and his men, but it will cost you. He’s not one to do charity if he can earn honest coin.” Lawrence had been serving as Roman’s steward until one could be hired.
“Have him do it.” Those words felt good to say. “We also want the pond dredged in the west field. Oh, yes, and I hired a butler. A good man. He will help organize the work that needs to be done in the house. I’ll be hiring a steward next so you can return to tending your flock full-time.”
“Why, this is good,” his stepfather said. “The changes will be amazing.”
“That is what I’m hoping.”
“I can’t wait to tell your mother,” David said.
