Rosanna stiffened, wondering how that must sound to the receiver, but for all that she’d considered different phrasing, there was no getting around the charitable aspect of this visit. And there was no shame in receiving aid when one needed it, after all.
Mrs. Wilkins bounced the babe on her hip again, staring at the basket for several long moments. “For me, miss?”
“Yes. You and your family, of course.”
Straightening, Mrs. Wilkins snapped free of her stupor and snatched the basket, clutching it tight with a bob. “Thank you, miss. Thank you so very much.”
Mrs. Wilkins spun about, nodding towards the table that took up most of the room. “Would you care to sit, miss?”
But when she moved to set the basket down, there wasn’t space enough amongst the cooking accouterments. Scant piles of chopped vegetables had been gathered, ready to be placed in the pot, and Mrs. Wilkins fluttered about without a free hand to do a thing about it. Whenever she met Rosanna’s eye, she dropped into another bob, tacking on a “miss” for good measure, and rattled off a litany of apologies for the state of her home.
“There is no need…” But Rosanna’s words fell on deaf ears as the woman set about trying to get her guest seated into a rather rickety chair.
And all the while, Mrs. Wilkins babbled words of gratitude that ought to make Rosanna’s heart warm with pleasure but instead had her cheeks heating. Not that she minded the display, but it was so effusive, and Rosanna didn’t know what to say in response. The basket certainly didn’t deserve such adoration, and she couldn’t help but recall just how much her own family consumed daily and how much greater it must be than this family’s meager feast if the charitable offering was met with such praise.
Rosanna shifted in place. “You needn’t go to any trouble—”
“Not at all, miss,” said Mrs. Wilkins, bobbing yet another curtsy, and the child on her hip giggled at the movement, rocking back and forth as though spurring her to do so again, which Mrs. Wilkins did—all while spewing apologies for the fact that her house was lived in, despite the fact that there was no reason for her to feel flustered. With three children and no servants, the woman was busy, indeed.
Mrs. Wilkins turned in place and set the basket on the ground before starting to clear her work from the table. “Just a moment, miss.”
“Please do not go to any trouble,” said Rosanna, holding up her hand in placation, for the woman looked fairly ready to faint as she scrambled to balance her babe and the dishes, shifting about her carefully laid piles of carrots, onions, and potatoes.
“It’s no trouble at all, miss,” said Mrs. Wilkins, pausing to give her yet another bob of a curtsy, which made Rosanna’s insides squirm. Thankfully, she wasn’t blushing, for it was bound to set Mrs. Wilkins in even more of a dither.
“Please, Mrs. Wilkins, it is very kind of you—”
“Kindness, nothing, miss. It is the least I can do. Would you care for something to drink?” The woman paused and frowned, staring at her kitchen cupboards.
“That sounds delightful, but I fear we have other stops to make,” said Rosanna, rushing forward with the first thing she could think to say before the woman started filling her guests’ bellies with the sustenance intended for the poor family.
“Oh,” said Mrs. Wilkins, straightening and whirling about to face Rosanna, her cheeks pinking. “I do apologize for taking up your time.”
Rosanna’s stomach twisted into knots. How had this visit gone from an act of charity to embarrassing the receiver? “Not at all, Mrs. Wilkins. Unfortunately, I found myself waylaid before arriving here, which has tightened my schedule, so I fear I haven’t much time to tarry.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Wilkins, bouncing her babe. “You must have much to do, miss.”
But having seen the woman’s house, Rosanna couldn’t say her time was more precious than Mrs. Wilkins’. Despite the snug size, it was clear it took much work to keep her family afloat. Perhaps if Rosanna knew something more useful than how to dance and address invitations properly, she might be of some more use to this woman.
Fighting back a frown (lest Mrs. Wilkins think she had earned the ire), Rosanna called to Mr. Malcolm, who remained crouched near the boys. And in a flurry of gratitude, bobs, and farewells, Rosanna finally extricated herself from the cottage and made her way back to the carriage.
Chapter 9
With her gaze fixed on the ground, Rosanna took Mr. Malcolm’s steady hand as she climbed into the gig. Outrageous man that he was, he gave it a little squeeze, and she was certain he was likely smiling, though Rosanna couldn’t bring herself to look at the man to confirm it.
The carriage shook as Mr. Malcolm climbed aboard and plopped into the seat beside her. With a quick flick of the reins, they were off once more, and Rosanna rocked with the movement, bumping into the groom’s shoulder with each sway.
“I think it safe to call that an unmitigated success,” said Mr. Malcolm.
Leaning away, Rosanna turned to stare at him, her brows twisted together like a Bavarian pretzel. “I know you enjoy being ridiculous, but I hadn’t thought your wits were lacking.”
“If anyone’s wits are lacking at this moment, I would say it was yours. Mrs. Wilkins was ecstatic over the gift. Some aid was provided to a poor family in need. What fault can you find with that?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Rosanna let out a long sigh. It was far too easy to see Prudence in the Wilkins’ home, for she had seen it many times before, and in none of those situations could Rosanna imagine Prudence getting flustered over a simple conversation or nearly breaking the family’s water jug.
“Prudence would’ve done better.” The words slipped free, and though Rosanna attempted to keep them quiet, the scowl on Mr. Malcolm’s face testified she hadn’t been as stealthy as intended.
He drew the gig to a stop and shifted in his seat, his light eyes studying her with a frown of his own. “Stop that this moment, Miss Rosanna. You did a good deed in there. The food was delivered. A needy family was helped, and you were kind and courteous whilst doing so. You were flustered, but what of it? Though I can assure you that you didn’t look as discomposed as you clearly feel you were. The Wilkins needed assistance, and you ensured they received it. Celebrate that.”
