“Thank you. That is very kind of you,” Caleb said, “but I’m afraid it’s not possible.”
“Because...?” Penelope asked.
“That’s enough,” Lady Cassandra chastised her daughter. “Mr. Crawford probably has responsibilities he would be neglecting by remaining here longer than necessary.”
“I have a mother who needs me,” he said because it was true, “and I have an inheritance from my father that must be dealt with. Coming here was actually a welcome excuse to avoid having to do so, but I cannot ignore it forever.”
“What did he leave you?” Eliot asked through a mouthful of meat.
“Eliot,” Miss Clemens chided.
Caleb grinned at the boy who always asked the most forward questions. “Some property, actually. And some money.”
“How much money?” Eliot asked.
“That is enough,” all three women exclaimed in unison while they stared at Eliot with severe disapproval.
“Sorry,” Eliot muttered. He took another bite of his food. “I just—”
A booming crash cut him off, the sound prompting Daphne to leap in her seat.
“It’s just thunder,” Caleb assured her. Excusing himself he stood and went to the window. “The wind has picked up. And the rain is coming down hard.” Light lit up the sky and another crash followed. Leaping out of her chair, Daphne ran to him, and he swept the girl up in his arms, holding her close so she would feel safe. “It’s all right,” he murmured as she pressed her face into his chest. “You’re safe in here.”
“But what about Raphael?” the girl cried. “I think he’s still out there!”
“Did you forget to bring him inside with you earlier?” Miss Howard asked.
Daphne bobbed her head up and down and cried harder.
“He’ll be fine,” Miss Clemens assured her. She’d risen as well and was now stroking her hand over Daphne’s head in order to sooth her. “Cats are versatile creatures, sweetheart. He’ll know to take shelter wherever he can find it.”
Caleb stared back out at the trees he could see through the darkness. Their branches whipped from side to side, and then another blast of light lit up the sky. Muffled by the drumming of rain and the howling wind, Caleb heard the feint sound of neighing. “I should check on my horse,” he said and lowered Daphne to her feet. “The thunder will have unsettled him.”
“You cannot mean to go out in this weather,” Miss Clemens said.
Looking at her, he saw the fear in her eyes – fear for him – and he could not stop from taking her hand. He squeezed it quickly before releasing it once again. “Don’t worry. This isn’t my first thunderstorm, Miss Clemens. I will be back before you know it.”
“Watch Daphne for a moment, please,” he heard Miss Clemens say as he strode from the room. Returning to the kitchen, he snatched his jacket from the peg by the door and shoved his arms through the sleeves.
Miss Clemens burst into the room, carrying a lantern. “Take this at least so you can see.” Her voice was steady but alarm strained her features.
“Thank you.” He took the lantern from her, brushing her fingers as he did so. A charge went through him, warming his insides and jolting his pulse.
“Do you not have a hat you can wear?” she asked with marked concern.
“It is at the cottage.” Along with his greatcoat. He hadn’t thought he’d be needing either one when he’d come inside earlier after completing his work for the day. “Perhaps you can prepare a hot cup of tea for when I get back and see to it that a warm fire is burning in the parlor?”
“Yes, of course.” She caught his arm when he turned for the door, and he paused there on the threshold to look back at her. “Do be careful, Mr. Crawford.”
He dipped his head to acknowledge he’d heard her and opened the door. It caught on a gust of wind and swung wide, slamming against the outside wall. Tightening his jaw, Caleb stepped out into the turbulent night, caught the door, and forced it shut before heading toward the cottage where an overhang jutting from the right wall provided shelter for his horse.
6
Too agitatedto stay still for even one second, Mary moved around the kitchen. Having lit a fire in the parlor, she kept checking on the water she'd put to boil for the tea Mr. Crawford had requested and looking out the window in anticipation of his return. If only she had a clock nearby so she had some idea of how long he'd been gone. It felt like twenty minutes, but she suspected it was only ten.
“The children are all in bed,” Cassandra said, entering the kitchen. “Emily is reading to them fromRobinson Crusoe.”
“It looks as though the world is ending out there,” Mary said, ignoring Cassandra's comment because it was impossible for her to think of anything else at the moment. Hugging herself, she forced her gaze away from the blurry window and went to find a teapot.
