Page 12 of Reforming Lord Neil

The night was going about as well as Neil had expected it would. Despite his fatigue, Neil hardly slept. Yet no gentleman ever complained of guest quarters. At least, not directly to the hostess.

Much of the night, he avoided shifting to silence the sound of the crackling straw beneath him. It was clean, and smelled better than the stalls below, but with nothing between him and the straw other than an old quilt, he’d been poked every time he dared move.

His inability to sleep had made it far too easy to think upon his predicament. No friends or family willing to take him in, not enough money to rent rooms for any length of time, and certainly not enough money to live in the state to which he was accustomed. Even if he sold his mother’s necklace, it would hardly buy him a new wardrobe, let alone a comfortable room at a fine establishment.

Would the marquess relent in a day or in a year? The uncertainty made it difficult to plan what to do with his funds, even if he attempted modest living.

Wandering about the countryside would not do. The idea of seeking out anyone who would help him, despite his circumstances, had been a foolish endeavor.

Perhaps he might find work?

The very word made him shudder. He, Lord Neil Duncan, third son of the Marquess of Alderton, find work? Though third sons were expected to make their own way in law or religion, Neil had been disinclined to do either.

His allowance was enough for a bachelor to live comfortably, after all. He had no intention of marrying. Not after a rather disappointing episode in his youth, when he had been foolish enough to believe in love and fidelity.

Casting that thought aside before it could trail into memory, Neil glared at the darkness and tried to form a plan. He had come no closer to a decision when he finally nodded off, despite the way some absurd night bird started warbling from the barn’s roof.

A rooster woke him entirely too soon, however, and before the sun had lightened enough to even be considered morning. He groaned and pulled his coat, which he had removed to use as a blanket, above his head.

The barn door opened with a groan. Neil sat up.

“There we are, Abigail.” He heard Mrs. Clapham’s soft voice with ease in the quiet, and the cow immediately responded with a noise more moan-like than anything. “I hope you passed a pleasant night. You did not bother our guest, did you?”

The woman’s tone was sweet and soothing as she spoke to the animal. In another moment, he heard the sound he had realized the night before meant she was milking her cow. Then she started humming again.

Neil slowly lowered himself back into the hay, staring up at the beams of the barn. Enough light filtered in through the walls and door for him to make out the straight slats of the roof.

The previous evening, Mrs. Clapham had hummed a song he had not heard in many years. He had been a young man, less jaded by the world, when it was a popular tune at private balls. That morning, her song was something simpler—a nursery song—yet he found he still enjoyed the sound.

When she finished her chore, he heard her speaking to the cow again. He got out of his temporary bed, slung his coat over his shoulder, and made his way down the ladder.

“Good morning, Mr. Duncan.” She stood with pail in hand, a reserved smile upon her face. “I hope you rested.”

Wise of her to not assume it was a good night’s sleep. “Thank you. I did. Some.” He slid the coat over his arm. “And I thank you again for the hospitality.”

“You are most welcome.” She hesitated a moment, her eyebrows coming together before she spoke again. “Would you like to break your fast with us? There is coffee, hot rolls, and some preserves.” A rooster appeared in the barn’s doorway and took that moment to crow, with gusto. She laughed, the sound surprisingly light. “We have eggs, too.” The heaviness he had seen in her expression dissipated for a moment with her amusement.

What an odd woman.

“While your offer is generous, Mrs. Clapham, I cannot impose upon you any longer. I will take myself to the public house in Dunwich.”

She did not press upon him to stay, but nodded her understanding. “Of course, Mr. Duncan. I hope you have a fine day ahead of you.” She curtsied, then left him to his preparations.

Neil did not waste time saddling his horse. The creature seemed somewhat resentful of finding himself with bridle and bit in place again. With the unknown stretched before him as the dirt road stretched before his horse, Neil did not blame the animal at all. He rather hated the idea of going about to beg for shelter, too.

Only the girl was outside when he brought the horse out of the barn. She sat on a chair, glaring at an old book in her lap. Chickens were scattered about her, along with several half-grown chicks, scratching and searching the yard for their breakfast. Caroline’s expression changed from frustration to disappointment when she saw Neil.

“Are you leaving already?” she asked, closing her book. “It is nearly time for breakfast.”

“Your mother invited me in. I am afraid I had to decline.” Neil led his horse over to where she sat. The girl rose and came to give his horse a pat on its nose. Then she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an apple. “I was saving this for later. Can I give it to him now?”

“Of course.” He watched as she fed the apple to his horse; the animal’s ears perked up, as did the rest of him, at the treat. The animal snuffled at her hand, looking for more. Neil had to chuckle. “I think he enjoyed it.”

The girl’s bright smile appeared. “I like horses. We haven’t had one since we came here.” She gestured with the hand holding the book, to the barn. “I used to have my own pony.” Her shoulders dropped, though her smile remained. “Mama says a horse would be too expensive for us, even if it would be helpful, too.”

“I imagine your mother knows best about such things.” Neil ran a hand down the horse’s neck. Were horses generally expensive to keep? He had bought some fine specimens in his time, but once they were in his father’s stables, Neil had given little thought to what it might cost to keep an animal fed, watered, and cared for.

Yet another thing his limited funds must somehow cover. He could not give up his only method of transportation.