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Worry stirred in the center of his chest, producing unsettling images of begging for money on the streets and carving from a cheap house in the middle of the countryside. He’d promised Mr. Chapple he’d deliver a month’s worth of rent by the second week of June—after a month of working for Mr. Coventry.

This was all contingent on Mr. Coventry keeping his end of the bargain, of course. Would he do the same as Lord Ryecombe had done? Or would the man simply refuse to pay Edward altogether?

Edward shook the thoughts from his head. Mr. Coventry had seemed more than trustworthy. Edward needed to believe him. He had no choice but to believe him.

“Do take care of yourself, son,” Mother said, “and be sure to eat often to maintain your high spirits.”

“I will, Mother.”

“And be sure not to work yourself too hard. But take care not to dawdle. And express your gratitude to the Coventrys every moment you have the opportunity.” She hesitated. “And…and be sure to take special care with your behavior. We wouldn’t wish for the rumors to only grow.”

Edward listened to her advice. One would think he was a boy leaving for school for the first time and not a twenty-eight-year-old man.

If he was being honest, though, he was as anxious as if it was his first day of school. He knew his actions were constantly under scrutiny after all that had occurred with their family. Mr. Coventry didn’t appear to be aware of any such rumors, but Edward feared that someone—Lord Ryecombe, perhaps—might alert Mr. Coventry that the Steeles were nearly out of business. Or worse, why the Steeles were nearly out of business.

But three months working for a reputable gentleman could change the rest of their lives forever. Though, whether that change be positive or negative was still yet to be seen.

CHAPTER FOUR

After spending a restless night at the Blue Boar Inn, whittling away at a spare stick to release his nerves, Edward rose early and traveled the distance on foot from the village to the Coventry’s home.

With its columns and spires and light brown stones, Daffley Park easily rivaled Lord Ryecombe’s estate. To the west of the house, a small pond nestled in a grove of trees. Beyond that, fields of sheep bordered with grey stone walls lined the countryside. In truth, he far preferred the grounds to the house. But then, what did Edward know about stone?

He strode toward the structure with his leather satchel over his shoulder, his tools tucked inside. Knocking against the front door, he removed his hat and waited to be greeted.

A few moments later, the door swung open without a sound, and the butler stood before him with an impassive expression. “Yes?”

“Good morning. My name is Mr. Edward Steele. Mr. Coventry has hired me to—”

“You are the woodcarver?”

“Yes, I am.”

The butler opened the door wider. “We’ve been expecting you, sir. I am the Coventrys’ butler, Mr. Morley. Do come in.”

Edward entered with a grateful nod of his head. He forced his eyes away from the grand marble entryway, the chandelier at the top of the room shimmering with crystals, and the two circular staircases winding to the upper floors.

He’d been slightly uneasy with the sheer amount of money Mr. Coventry had agreed to pay him via their next correspondence. Now, Edward was certain the man could afford to compensate him even more.

Mr. Morley closed the door and faced Edward. “Mr. Coventry has been called away on a business matter, so he has tasked me with showing you to the library.”

Edward shifted his feet tensely. Mr. Coventry had been more than kind to Edward. Would the rest of the household welcome him so openly?

They were sure to, if they did not know about the rumors.

“If you will follow me, sir.”

Edward trailed after Mr. Morley through the various corridors, losing count of the number of rooms they passed until they reached the east wing of the house.

From there, Edward could have found the room himself. Mahogany tended to lose most of its aroma as time passed, but the woody scent still pervaded the area, growing as they drew closer to the library.

Edward preferred that smell to any other cologne or fragrance. It spoke to his soul with warmth and whispered clarity to his mind.

He stepped into the library after Mr. Morley, his eyes captured at once by the sheer amount of deep, reddish-brown wood covering the room. The ceiling was split into simple, squared sections, and the bookshelves circled about the entire space from floor to ceiling, excepting the large windows at the end of the room, which poured bright sunshine into every inch of the library.

Edward certainly had his work cut out for him.

“As far as I’m aware,” Mr. Morley said, “the cabinetmaker hired before did an excellent job creating the shelves and ceiling, but he failed to meet Mr. Coventry’s expectations in regard to the detailing.” He pointed to a small section of the bookshelf where a foot of the wood had been carved into a rather unwieldy design.