Page 26 of Reforming Lord Neil

Someone shouted Teresa’s name, startling her into nearly slicing her finger with her pruning knife. She jerked around to face the direction of the house.

A man with a familiar build, and an accompanying frown, strode across her field toward her. Teresa saw her mother coming behind the man as fast as she could without stepping on any of their plants.

The man, Teresa’s former brother-in-law, took no such care for their growing food.

“Teresa.” He said her name in such a way as to make her flinch. He had never been an especially temperate man. His character and mannerisms were in large part the reason for her leaving the family home in favor of her poor, inherited farm.

She glanced up into the tree, where Mr. Duncan had stopped working to stare at the oncoming gentleman. He glanced down at her, his eyebrows furrowed. From the corner of her eye, Teresa glimpsed Caroline putting down her basket and slinking away, to hide behind a tree before her uncle caught sight of her.

Teresa put down her pruning knife on top of her cherries and brushed her hands on her apron. “Frederick. I was not aware you were coming to visit.”

“He only just arrived,” Mother said, hand on her chest as she recovered from the near-run across the field. “I offered him refreshment, but Mr. Clapham said he must speak to you at once.”

He glowered at Mother, taking another step so only a pace separated him from Teresa. “I was traveling down to Ipswich and thought I had better pay my respects. But Mother Godwin informs me that you are harvesting your cherries to take them to market.”

Widening her eyes, Teresa nodded slowly. “Why, yes, Frederick, that is true.” She hated that he called Mother the same term Henry had chosen to use. Likely Mother disliked it, too. Frederick had never shown her much respect or consideration. “Would you like to try some of our cherries?”

“No.” Frederick’s nose wrinkled and he glared at the baskets. “How have you sunk so low, Teresa? Henry would be appalled that you are living like a farmer.”

Her temper flared, but Teresa kept her tone overly sweet. “I am living how I must in order to feed my daughter, Frederick. You know the pittance I was left after Henry died. As you are unable to assist us with funds due to the difficulties with the estate, I thought it best to provide for myself and my family.”

Frederick scoffed and gestured with one hand to the baskets. “By going to market and standing about, hawking cherries, like some sort of peasant?”

“Lady farmer, I should think,” Mother corrected quietly.

“Can you not send someone else?” Frederick suddenly looked up into the tree. “Like whoever that is? Is that a servant? If you can pay a servant to pluck cherries, he can certainly take them to market for you.”

The next sound Teresa heard was Neil’s boots scraping each rung as he climbed down the ladder. She did not turn to look, though she heard him step up behind her. Rather closer than necessary. “This is Mr. Duncan. He has agreed to helping on the farm. He isn’t a servant.”

Frederick stared at Mr. Duncan, eyes narrowed, and face pale. “He doesn’t look like a farmer, either.”

Before Teresa could respond, Mr. Duncan spoke in his usual smooth, soft tones. “That is because he is not a farmer, but a gentleman.” A tiny knot formed in her stomach at his pronouncement. “A gentleman who has agreed to come to a lady’s aid, rather than take her to task for making difficult decisions.”

Oh, Teresa would treasure for some time the way her brother-in-law’s face paled and mouth gaped open. She would have to find a way to thank Mr. Duncan for that satisfying sight later. No one had ever put Frederick in his place like that. By establishing himself as a gentleman, Mr. Duncan had raised himself to a station equal with Frederick. That would make it difficult for Frederick to say much more on the subject.

Frederick finally spoke, his words strangled. “Mr. Duncan, that is most kind of you.” He swallowed and turned a simpering expression upon Teresa. “My dearest sister-in-law knows I would help her if I could.”

“Would you?” Mr. Duncan managed to sound bored when he asked that question. “I notice you are wearing the new cut from London. I had my own man inquire into a tailor capable of reproducing those lines. The drawings appeared in my magazines only three weeks ago.”

With a start, Teresa observed her brother-in-law’s complexion turn splotchy, and she realized the cut of the coat was not one she had seen before. Men’s fashions changed so subtly, she never would have noticed, but the coat did appear new. And of high quality.

“In my position, I could hardly dress like a pauper,” her brother-in-law muttered.

Mr. Duncan made a sound of disinterest. “Of course not. A gentleman’s image is important.” Given that Mr. Duncan wore clothing more suitable to a laborer than a gentleman put a twist to the words which further mocked Frederick. Mr. Duncan was certainly clever with his tongue.

Frederick’s purchase of a new coat did not mark him as heartless. Teresa knew that. But it was interesting that he would deny her the ability to make even simple purchases and tell her the estate could not afford to give her more than fifty pounds per annum.

“Teresa, might we speak in private?” Frederick asked, casting Neil a suspicious look.

Without a reason to deny him that simple request, Teresa nodded. “Come, this way.” She took him toward the open field, devoid of vegetables. She looked once over her shoulder to see Mr. Duncan and her mother in conversation, and Mr. Duncan’s eyes upon her.

“Where did that man come from?” Frederick asked, tone harsh.

Teresa tried not to wince. “Perhaps you ought to ask him, as it is not my business to tell you of him.” That would keep her from having to confess she knew nothing about him, save that he claimed to be a gentleman.

That remark made a vein in Frederick’s forehead appear. “Henry would not wish for you to gain a reputation for having strange men about.”

Her heart squeezed, but not as painfully as it once had when he tossed veiled accusations at her. “Then it is a good thing Henry is gone, where my reputation cannot matter to him anymore.”