Later, in her bedchamber, Anna brushed Carrie’s hair. The thought of leaving Elm Park unsettled her. “Have you been able to find out why the previous housekeeper was dismissed without a reference?”
“Yes, Mary, the upstairs maid, told me. The housekeeper dismissed a pregnant scullery maid without consulting Abercrombie. With no one to turn to for help, the poor girl drowned herself in the river.”
“What a cruel woman. Do they know who the baby’s father was?”
“Tom Forrester, from the home farm. They planned to marry, but he died after a bull gored him.”
“How sad.”
“Yes, I’m told his lordship was furious with her. She’d only been here for a few months. The previous housekeeper had been at Elm Park for years, but ill health forced her to retire. None of the staff seemed to like her replacement.”
After Anna left, Carrie sat on the edge of her bed. Nicholas had cared for the plight of the scullery maid when many men would not. Her view of Nicholas had changed since she came to Elm Park. She couldn’t imagine him acting cruelly to anyone.
Bella and Jeremy were settling down. So why did she feel as if she would leave behind something unfinished? Something special. She talked sternly to herself. Gwen worked so hard on her behalf and must leave her small son behind in the country. Of course, Carrie must go to London. The sooner she left, the better. Nothing was going to dissuade her from her view that he was the most wonderful man she had ever met.
She reached down and picked up her slippers from beside her bed and put them on. She must not fall in love with him. He had agreed to take care of Bella and Jeremy, giving up his precious solitude. And while he seemed to enjoy their company, it had been an obligation. As a man of honor, he could hardly do otherwise. But none of this seemed to help her. She grew restless just thinking of him.
She jumped up and prowled around the room. This wouldn’t do. But she still looked for Nicholas at breakfast and was absurdly disappointed when he was away riding. At night, he filled her thoughts before she fell asleep. How he looked. What he said that was so amusing. How his body moved when he walked, that purposeful step, so athletic and graceful. She tried to tell herself it was gratitude. That she was merely captivated by a rather remarkable man. She would know her feelings better when she went to London. Not that it mattered, for although Nicholas liked her well enough and enjoyed her company, he showed no sign of being in love with her. He would consider her a silly, love-struck girl if he knew her thoughts.
With a deep sigh, Carrie shrugged off her dressing gown. She picked up the book of Keats’s poems and settled into bed. Nicholas had invited her to the library to discussEndymiontomorrow, after their ride. She would remain calm and cool and put up a good argument in Keats’s favor. She must never allow her feelings to betray her, for it would surely embarrass him.
Chapter Eight
After a glance at the sky, Nicholas strode into the warm, fragrant breakfast room where his wards had assembled and were enjoying eggs and toast.
With a welcoming smile, Nicholas took a chair as a footman hurried to pour his coffee. “Good morning. We are blessed with a fine day.”
Dressed in yellow, she was as fresh and lovely as the yellow tulips she favored. He’d enjoyed their chess game. The challenge in her big eyes told him she had enjoyed it, too.
“Why don’t we exercise the horses?” he said. “I need to visit one of my tenants.”
Jeremy awarded him with a hoot of joy. Nicholas was ridiculously pleased to see that lost look vanish from the boy’s face.
At the stables, one of Nicholas’s young grooms stood dumbstruck, the saddle he’d been polishing clutched to his chest as Carrie walked past him. Nicholas smiled to himself. Apparently, the effect she had on callow youths was just as Bella had described.
He gestured to the groom. “Fetch my horse, Richie.”
“Yes, milord.” The boy paused at the stable door and glanced back at Carrie, fetching in her rust-colored habit and black hat. If she noticed the lad, she didn’t reveal it.
Suitable mounts were chosen after Nicholas dissuaded Jeremy from riding the colt, Prince, which tried to unseat Nicholas the last time he’d ridden him. Jeremy’s attempt to argue was silenced at a shake of Nicholas’s head.
With Jeremy mounted on his second choice, a young gelding, they rode out of the stable yard and down the drive with Chester racing ahead. They took the bridle path through the woods and emerged from the trees beside the river, where they crossed a bridge. The estate unfolded, paddocks and meadows gave way to roads leading to the village and the tenant farms.
Nicholas told them he would first call to inspect Crumpton’s newly thatched roof.
As they rode up to the farmhouse, the farmer rushed out to greet them, his dogs milling around Chester with tails wagging. “It’s a thing of beauty, m’lord.” Crumpton beamed at them. “Not a leak to be found during yesterday’s rain. Mrs. Crumpton is pleased as punch.”
Nicholas introduced Carrie and his wards as Mrs. Crumpton emerged from the doorway, untying her apron, bringing with her the delicious smell of bacon frying. She curtsied. “May we offer you and your guests something to eat or a cup of tea, m’lord?”
That was Crumpton’s breakfast Nicholas could smell. “Thank you, Mrs. Crumpton. Another time, we might partake of your excellent scones. I enjoyed those sent to me very much. Lord Leeming is eager to see more of the estate.”
Mrs. Crumpton’s cheeks grew pink, and she bobbed.
Nicholas tipped his hat, and they rode on.
They rode up a steep rise. From the top, the view stretched for miles like a patchwork quilt of meadows and plowed fields. Smoke from the wanderer camp wafted in the air, and farther north, a smoke spiral drifted from an encampment. That would be the unwelcome visitor Nicholas was keen to visit.
Jeremy angled his horse alongside Nicholas’s and pointed to a gray-stone edifice some miles away. “Is that the ruin of a house I see over to the west?”
