“They’re tired?”
“Sheep be grazing.”
“They’re hungry?”
“If the ash is in leaf before the oak, summer’s gonna be a soak.”
“Oh. And was it?”
“Aye.”
“So, rain then?”
“Nah, not for a while now.” And he sucked on his clay pipe with a mirthful look in his eye.
“You are an incorrigible tease,” she asserted with a laugh, before embarking upon a detailed study of Sir Cosmo’s delicate hock.
Of course the other incorrigible tease was Lord Ernest, and she was endeavouring not to recall the night before last – his sinful, wicked words in the Long Gallery, his passionate, heady lips upon hers. The groan that had ripped from his throat.
The honeyed dreams that had haunted her since.
“Thas what my wife used to say too.”
Hebe stilled her pencil, tipped up the brim of her straw hat and smiled. “How did you meet her, Mr Grampy Tom? Did she work here?”
“Aye. I were under-groom and she were lady’s maid to the duchess. Bit lofty in station for one such as I, but… You might not believe this, lass, but in my salad days, I were a bit of a handsome rogue.” He winked and she utterly believed him. “So one day, I grabbed Miss Charlotte Weaver behind that herb garden hedge and kissed her good and proper.”
“Did she fall into your arms good and proper?”
“No. Her slapped me good and proper. Said I were a bosky bumkin pestlehead.” He sighed lustfully. “Knew she were the lass for I in that moment.”
Hebe’s lips twitched. “How did you convince her of that?”
“I asked around and discovered she liked pink roses, so I bribed the gardener to give I the ones he’d deadheaded each morn. And the upper maid told I that Miss Weaver adored pears so I…happened upon some fallen ones in the orchard.” He grinned. “So, after a twelvemonth of gifts and posies, and no dallying with others, she…”
“Said she loved you?”
“Said she found Iquitehandsome. And us started courting. Took another two year to marry, what with being on groom’s wages.”
“Of course.” Hebe felt rather humbled. “And when did she…”
“The angels took her ten year ago. A mizzling day of fog and sorrow. All folks meant well but I could hardly speak.” His unseeing gaze darkened to oloroso. “Lor, I miss her. Every hour. Every moment. The way she’d open the curtains in the morning, the sunlight catching her hair. The care she took of her hands and the tender heart that she kept hidden from all but I. She were my lass and I loved her deep.”
Hebe wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “How many years did you have together?”
“Nigh fifty. And it still weren’t enough. Charlotte said…when she were mortal ill, that she wished she’d not slapped I in the gardens but kissed I back. And then us might not have wasted twelvemonth or so. Oh, we had trial in life, who don’t? Lost two babes but raised three. And when the old duke were alive, him never paid the wages and so us barely had enough to eat.”
Eyes misty, Hebe shook her head. “I’ve heard he was a rotten landlord to you all.”
“Pah. ’Tis all in the past. The old dastard’s youngsters have righted any wrongs. And mark my words, neither of them brothers could ever do harm to man nor beast, especially his lordship.” Sherry eyes that wrinkled with experience and knowledge focused on her. “Thee understand I, lass?”
“I do, Mr Grampy Tom. I do indeed.” And why she knew not, but this aged gentleman seemed to likewise understandherall too well.
He nodded with a satisfied grunt. “Thee remind I of my Charlotte, willing to listen to an old dizzard ramble on. Yards of pluck and a kind heart. A perfect combination, to my mind, but I tell thee one thing…” Mr Grampy Tom gazed to the swallows darting in the sky. “Never waste time, Mrs Locke.” He sucked on his pipe. “Summer can be short but it do come every year. Love can be eternal, but it don’t come all that often.”
“DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S CURIOUS?”Ernest began as he and his companion rested in the afternoon sunshine upon the moat bank.
A rhetorical question so he continued.
