“But the riots are growing worse!” she said, thrusting the paper at him and shaking it.
“They concern the farm laborers,” he said with a shake of his head, tugging the paper from her grasp. “It has no effect on mills.”
Not directly, at any rate. Such things were bound to send a ripple of changes and troubles outward, but that was why varied investments and large savings were so important. However, it was better to nip Mother’s hysterics in the bud, rather than attempt to explain all he’d done to prepare the family.
“But your father is in the South. He decided not to return, despite his promise,” she said, thrusting another scrap of paper at him. David didn’t need to read it to know what it would say. He recognized the handwriting of his Father’s valet; his father was fond of saying, “There is no need to waste one’s time when a servant can do it.”
Mother clutched it to her chest. “What shall we do if something happens to him?”
In truth, the absence of his expenditures would be a boon—though as quickly as David thought that, he cast it aside. Whatever his father’s flaws, it wasn’t fitting to think such dark thoughts.
“Can you not give your son a moment to breathe, Mrs. Archer?”
A small and simple statement, yet the tension in David’s shoulders eased as Miss Leigh strode down the corridor, a tea tray hefted before her. With a gentle but unyielding nudge, she herded Mother back into the parlor.
“Does Mr. Archer spend his time in the fields?” said Miss Leigh as she set the tray on the table. Flora sat at the far side of the room, clutching her book, whilst Clarissa looked as teary as Mother. Thankfully, Irene was not present to add to the hysterics.
Mother took a seat and the cup of tea Miss Leigh offered. “Of course not.”
“Then there is nothing to fear, Mrs. Archer. And you have a devoted son who will ensure all is well, so there is no need to work yourself into a dither and accost him when he has only just returned after a tiring day. The poor man looks ready to collapse.”
David fought to keep his wince hidden whilst gathering his thoughts on how to smooth Mother’s ruffled feathers after Miss Leigh’s blunt comment.
But then something astonishing happened. For all that David considered himself a faithful man, he knew little of miracles. There were certainly tender little mercies he couldn’t attribute to logic or reason, but a grand manifestation? Never. Until now.
Mother held her teacup close and straightened, her gaze fixing on David. With wide eyes, she set it aside and rose to her feet.
“Oh, you are absolutely correct, Miss Leigh. My dear boy. I do apologize,” she said, coming to his side and nudging him towards a seat. “Do sit down. You look ready to expire.”
But David couldn’t do as bidden, for his attention was fixed on Miss Leigh, who was bustling about the parlor, handing out tea and biscuits with a little word here and there that was kind but firm. Only once the ladies were occupied with their refreshments and chatting of the Breadmores’ upcoming party did Miss Leigh sweep over to him.
“Now is your chance to escape,” she whispered. “Take it while you can.”
Never one to turn aside sound advice, David spun on his heel and slipped away whilst Miss Leigh distracted the ladies. As quickly as he could, he moved through the corridors and up the stairs to his sanctuary. With the afternoon sun dipping in the heavens, the library’s windows were full of golden light, making the room quite cozy, which was just what his chilled bones needed.
Grabbing a blanket left folded on the armchair, he dropped into the seat and leaned his head against the back whilst draping it across his lap. Just a few moments of quiet, and he would go down to relieve poor Miss Leigh, who had somehow been pressed into the role of caretaker to his fretful mother. As Miss Leigh had quite enough of that at home, it was hardly fair of him to add to her burden, but he needed a few moments to warm himself and rest.
David wasn’t sure when or how, but despite his best efforts, he fell asleep—only realizing it when he was jolted awake when the library door opened. Bleary-eyed, he watched Miss Leigh manhandle a tray through the opening, belatedly realizing he ought to assist her only after she managed it on her own.
Leaving the door open, she bustled in and set the tray on the small table beside him. With quick work, she had a plate of treats arrayed for him and a cup poured, which he gratefully took and sipped, allowing the hot liquid to work its magic.
“How is it that you’ve been conscripted into being an Archer family servant?” he asked with an arched brow.
“Your mother and sisters make an impressive press gang.” There was no smile on her lips, but Miss Leigh’s eyes shone with mirth as she took the seat opposite him.
David chuckled, nearly spilling his tea, and set the cup aside. “Is that so?”
“In truth, whenever I come to play, I often spend much of the afternoon with them. I had planned on leaving some time ago, but your mother was in such a state, I couldn’t leave her.”
Straightening, David frowned. “That is kind of you, Miss Leigh, but you are not their keepers, and it is not your responsibility—”
“I have enjoyed it, Mr. Archer,” she said with a faint smile. Her gaze fell to her hands, and she fiddled with her skirts. “You have everyone demanding something from you, but I fear no one wishes anything from me. My own mother would be happy to see the back of me. For some reason I cannot fathom, your family has taken to me. As much as keeping your mother and sisters company was my excuse for staying, the truth is that I enjoy them.”
Her gaze drifted from his to stare out the window, and her smile grew. “That I am able to relieve some of the pressure you are under is merely an added reward. All in all, being at Stratsfield House makes me feel as though I matter. That I am doing some good.”
“You do matter,” he said with a furrowed brow. “Greatly.”
But Miss Leigh waved that away. “And what have you been up to today?”
