Page 69 of Triumph at Pemberley

“Croeso,” Nesta responded and ducked her head. Then she put a finger to her lips again and left the room.

When the men returned, Nesta, Bethan, and Frederica were all laughing. Frederica had convinced them to teach her the Welsh words for table, chair, and plate, and her mispronunciations had sent them into gales of laughter. She could not help joining in the mirth, making even more mistakes because it entertained the little ones so much. Bethan had bashfully asked for the English words, too.

Roderick sat beside her on the bench. “You seem to be getting along well.”

“We have been having a lovely time,” Frederica informed him. “Were you able to help outside?”

He nodded. “I cleared the spring, which had almost stopped flowing, and helped the plants along in the garden. The sheep, too. The family will eat better next year for it.”

Nesta clapped her hands together in delight over something her husband had reported, unleashing a torrent of thanks to Roderick.

After he had responded with apparent good grace, he whispered to her, “The spring. Hauling water from the river is a hard chore.”

It must have been, for the news seemed to have taken years off Nesta’s face. She would clearly bless the day Roderick and his new bride had come to their home.

The next morning, as they rode away from the farm, Roderick said, “What was that you did at the end?”

Frederica raised an eyebrow, teasing. A night in Roderick’s arms had done a great deal to restore her confidence in her decision to come to Wales, even if they had to be careful of her chafed thighs. “I gave Nesta a shawl. Just a simple one, but her daughter could not stop touching my clothes when she helped me dress. Bethan will be old enough for courting soon and should have something pretty to wear.”

“That was generous of you.”

“Fully half of what I brought with me is gifts. Until I can speak the language, they are the best way to show my appreciation.” When she had hired the Welsh maid in London, the first task she had given her was to go out and buy presents that would be appreciated by people in Wales. “Besides, they are the first of your people to meet me, and I want them to make a good report of me.”

“I think you need have no doubt of that. They were charmed by you.”

“You sound surprised.”

His horse was restive, and he tugged on the reins. “I have not seen you with common folk before.”

“And you thought I might be high and mighty? Darcy or Lady Anne would be glad to oblige, but my mother taught me it was good manners to treat everyone as an equal. Except in London ballrooms, where a different set of rules applied.” She had never been any good at those games, though.

There were advantages to dealing with people who did not speak English, too. They did not keep blurting out embarrassing truths in response to her unintended truth-casting.

Roderick said, “Nesta asked me if I knew of anyone in town who was looking for new servants. Apparently her daughter is tired of living on an isolated farm. I said I would let my stepmother know.”

“Your step-mother - will she help me find a maid?”

He paused very slightly before responding. “I would suggest asking the housekeeper at Granny’s house for a recommendation. She would have a better idea of what you might need.”

His avoidance made her suspicious. “And her suggestion would not spy on me for your stepmother?”

Roderick sighed. “She had other plans for my marriage and was not pleased when she learned it was too late for that. It is another reason we are going to my father first, rather than bringing you straight to her. She has had a challenging time of it. My mother was greatly beloved by everyone, and she is not.”

How like Roderick to consider why his stepmother might be difficult rather than simply being annoyed about it! “Will we be living with her?”

“Everyone will expect that. There is plenty of room, and a separate household would be expensive.” He glanced at her, as if expecting an objection.

She would save her arguments until such a time as was necessary.

Then the guard caught up to them, and she stopped talking and started focusing on ignoring her sore legs. Nesta’s magical ointment had helped more than she expected, but it could not perform miracles.

Chapter 28

“Saint Twrog?” Frederica stumbled over the name dubiously. The squat stone building before them was only recognizable as a church by the belfry.

Roderick laughed. “One of our early Welsh saints. Do you see that standing stone? Legend says he threw that down from the top of Moelwyn Mawr to crush a pagan altar here.”

“The top of what?”