“Of course, Michael. I love you. But—”
“Then we must find a way through this,” he continued, keeping his voice so low his father would not be able to hear. “We’ve not much time to agree on a plan. Just promise me you will meet me tomorrow at dawn. Exactly where Papa just happened upon us. And bring a travelling bag.”
“Michael…” She spoke his name with distress, which only made him wish he could whisk her away from all of this right now – save her from having to witness the upcoming quarrel between his father and her mother. “There are things you need to know. Additional facts I must share with you before we speak our vows.”
He met her gaze as they approached her cottage. “Besides the details pertaining to the divorce?”
Troubled eyes met his. “Yes.”
It was still hard for him to fathom what she’d revealed to him today, though it certainly helped improve his opinion of Mrs. Lawson by leaps and bounds. And since he did not believe it possible for Cynthia to tell him something more shocking, he chose to reassure her by saying, “As long as you and I love each other, then that’s all that matters. The rest will sort itself out. Just promise me you’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I promise,” she said at the same exact moment as they reached their destination.
7
Wilhelmina wiped her hands on her apron and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle. Milking cows and mucking out stalls was hard, laborious work and although the Wilkinses did their part, they did not move with the sort of speed or efficiency Wilhelmina desired. In fact, it felt like they were prepared to get by with the bare minimum. Not that Wilhelmina blamed them since both were at least twenty years older than she. Still, she was glad the pigs and chickens were able to tend to themselves. All they required was food.
She entered the kitchen on throbbing feet and stretched her back. The clock on the counter made her frown. It was nearing five o’clock. Cynthia should have been back from Renwick by now so Betsy could start on dinner, but there was no sign of any food being prepared. She glanced at a chair and sighed. She dearly wanted to sit and rest, but that would clearly have to wait.
Rubbing the back of her neck to try and undo the tension there, she plodded toward the front of the house and soon located Betsy. The maid was returning a carpet she’d taken outside for a beating. The musty smell that hung in the air yesterday had been replaced by crisp freshness thanks to the thorough cleaning the room had undergone since their arrival. It was two in the morning before the sheets they’d laundered had finished drying so they could make their beds. By six, they’d been up again, so it really wasn’t a wonder if they were exhausted.
“Has Cynthia not returned yet?” Wilhelmina asked the maid.
“I haven’t seen her.” Betsy straightened and rolled her shoulders.
“It’s been three hours since she set out.” Concern began taking root. Wilhelmina had been so busy she’d not noticed the time until she’d returned to the house. “She should have been back by now.”
“Maybe she got distracted by some of the shops?”
“Maybe, although it does seem unlikely when she knows we need the supplies she was sent to buy. The trip should not have taken more than two hours at most.”
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”
Wilhelmina nodded. “I’ll check the road for her. Can you make some tea in the meantime? If dinner is to be delayed, a hot soothing drink will be in order.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Betsy.” Wilhelmina went to the front door and pulled it open. The late afternoon sun spread a warm glow upon her surroundings, sharpening the colors. Thankfully there were still a few hours left of daylight.
Wilhelmina walked toward the garden gate and scanned the road. It was empty, save for a couple of birds pecking after insects. Increasingly worried, she dragged her gaze across the rest of the landscape, until she spotted three people crossing a field. Wilhelmina raised her hand to shield her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Cynthia. But she immediately stiffened the moment she realized who her daughter was with. Good heavens. What on earth were Mr. Dale and his son doing here?
Steeling herself for the difficult conversation she feared she would have to engage in, she opened the gate and stepped through it. But as the group drew nearer and the expression on each of their faces became more evident, Wilhelmina gave up imagining she could simply exchange a few awkward words with Mr. Dale and his son. Indeed, Mr. Dale himself looked more furious than she’d ever seen him. His son appeared almost equally cross while Cynthia herself looked slightly terrified.
Wilhelmina squared her shoulders. Clearly an altercation was brewing and if Mr. Dale had upset her daughter, then he would haveherto deal with. She clenched her jaw, stiffened her spine, and balled her hands into fists at her sides. Raising her chin, she was prepared to stand her ground by the time the first angry words hit her.
“I believe I told you to keep your daughter away from my son,” Mr. Dale thundered. “Yet here she is once more, leading him astray.”
“Papa,” Michael warned.
Mr. Dale ignored him as he drew to a halt before Wilhelmina and pinned her with his dark gaze. Rage burned there with such forceful fierceness she had to fight the urge not to retreat.
“Again you seek to lay the blame at our door,” Wilhelmina clipped. “In case you’re unaware, however, the chance of a young woman forcing a man to submit to her lustful ways is far more unlikely than the reverse.”
“Mama,” Cynthia groaned.
“Your suggestion is not only vulgar but outrageous,” Mr. Dale seethed, “though it certainly is in keeping with your reputation.”
Wilhelmina glared at him. “You go too far, sir.”
