Mrs. Lester sat and flicked through the book. “Where was that, dear?”
Maddie realized she’d given too much away. She was terrible at building a web of untruths to hide behind. “A small village in the north. I’m an orphan. Both my parents passed away two years ago.”
“I am sorry. But why come here?”
Maddie sighed. “My aunt lived in this district, and I loved it when I came to stay. I suppose I wanted to get away and begin a new life.”
Mrs. Lester lifted her gaze from the book. “Oh, that is sad. I am sorry. You are young to be on your own in this world.” She turned to another page. “Now these are quite easy recipes to follow. You can purchase the ingredients at the village shop. These meals are for you and Jane?”
“Mostly, yes. And the occasional visitor.”
Mrs. Lester glanced at her thoughtfully. “Well, you’ll have to adjust the recipe accordingly.”
Maddie quickly finished her coffee and put down the cup. “I intend to bake biscuits and a cake, although I fear they will suffer compared to yours.”
Mrs. Lester grew pink. “How nice of you to say so. I shall wrap some biscuits for you to take home. To tide you over until you make your own.”
Maddie tried to dissuade her, but soon saw it was hopeless. She would insult Mrs. Lester should she refuse.
Handing her the package, Mrs. Lester accompanied Maddie to the door. “Might we see you both in church on Sunday?”
Maddie had initially thought it better not to make herself known to the community. But if she remained a recluse, might that spark more interest in her than her appearance at church?
She made a vague reply and before Mrs. Lester probed deeper into her past, as Maddie was sure she’d like to do, mounted Pearl. She rode home. For now, until her birthday at least, home was the cottage. As the horse slowly walked down the hill beneath the oak tree bows, Maddie gazed over at the fields, the boxwood, the flowering hedgerows, the sheep, startling white against the greenery. The lane was beautiful, with clusters of white snowdrops in the grass. If here was home for a while, it wouldn’t be so hard to bear.
At the beginning of the second week, Hart returned when Maddie was on her knees in the vegetable garden, weeding her turnip, carrots, and lettuce seedlings.
He strode down the path to meet her, hat in hand, dressed in snug-fitting riding breeches and boots, his greatcoat swirling around his long legs.
At the sight of him, Maddie’s heart beat faster. She took a quick breath and stood, brushing her knees, and walked over to greet him.
“You look in excellent health, Maddie. I believe the air here agrees with you.”
She smiled. “You rode, Hart?”
“The carriage horses need rest, and Blaze needs exercise. I’ll put up at the inn tonight. Would you care to ride? We can see something of the countryside, known for its beauty.”
“I would like to. It is glorious here.”
“You don’t find it too quiet?”
She pushed her hair off her face with her arm, conscious of her dirty hands. “Not at all. I am always busy.”
“You enjoy gardening?”
“I do, although it’s not something I’ve tackled before, as well as other household things. Come inside. It’s long past midday. Have you eaten?”
He shook his head. “No. And I missed breakfast. I came to invite you and Jane to—”
“Nonsense. I shall feed you.” She thought of the meat pie she made this morning, hoping he’d come. The pastry was a little crumbly around the edges, but the beef and onions were tasty.
“Who scythed the grass?” Hart asked, gazing around before stepping into the narrow hallway.
“Our neighbor. Mr. Lester, a farmer. He and his wife have been very good to us.” She feared she looked dreadfully untidy. “Excuse me while I wash off the dirt.” Upstairs, she washed her hands and face, rubbing roses into her cheeks before the mirror, tidied her hair, then hurried down.
Hart turned as she came in, concern in his eyes. “I hope no one has recognized you.”
“Why would they? I’ve been careful. I am the orphan, Miss Burrell, the new tenant of Lilybrook Cottage,” she said. “And Jane Frost is my maid. We hail from the north.”
