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“I must contact the bank immediately.” His father dropped into the chair behind his desk and reached for a fresh piece of paper.

Benedict joined him at the desk. His father’s concern regarding the estate’s cash flow was both understandable and needful, but Benedict had seen the Simkinses’ empty cupboards, and his worries lay elsewhere. “I intend to send for wheat from Gloucester,” he said. “Cook tells me that is where Rowe procured the flour she has been using. If it’s to be had there, I shall ensure that a goodly portion is delivered to the local shop.”

His father nodded his approval. “I leave that in your hands. Rowe and the missing ledgers, however, I wish to take care of myself.” He set his jaw. “I shall give him one more night to make an appearance. If he’s not standing in this office tomorrow morning, I shall seek out the authorities.”

“I will stop at his house on the way back from the morning milking,” Benedict said. “If Rowe is there, it will serve as a summons. If he is not, I shall speak with his maid. It should not be difficult to retrieve the most recent ledgers from his office.”

“Very well.” His father gazed at the open book on the desk. “God willing, when tomorrow comes, we shall have a better understanding of what has transpired, and we will know how to act.”

Chapter 21

This morning’s outing is for Meg’s benefit. Caroline repeated the phrase for what felt like the twentieth time. So far, the repetition had not helped calm her nerves, but she continued to hold out a forlorn hope that eventually it would. She did not know if she would actually see Benedict at the farm, but simply being in a position where she might was enough to set her pulse tripping.

“Look, Mama!” Meg slowed her skipping long enough to point to a bunch of particularly large dandelions on the grass verge that ran along the lane. “Can I pick some for Lord Benting?”

“Just one.” It seemed that Caroline was not the only person who thought it likely that they would run into the gentleman this morning. “You must leave some for others to enjoy.”

Meg reached for the dandelion with the longest stem and waved it excitedly. “He will love this one.”

Caroline considered it unlikely that Benedict actually loved dandelions. It was more likely that he loved pleasing Meg.

Caroline’s treacherous stomach somersaulted. Love. The very word scared her. Yesterday, Benedict had told her that he’d fallen in love with her, but doubts had assailed her every moment since. How could his feelings for her be that strong? Especially when hers were so muddled.

She’d spent half the night attempting to block out the memory of the incredible kiss they’d shared so that she might better sort through her jumbled emotions. Unfortunately, all these hours later, she was no closer to an answer than she had been on the carriage ride home from Farwell Hall.

“I see the gate!” Meg began to hop. “And some cows.”

With the way Caroline was currently feeling, a cow sighting was considerably better than a Saxon or Shep sighting. If neither of those animals was in the yard, it was probable that Benedict wasn’t either. And that would be better for everyone. Except perhaps Meg.

After having been gone from her daughter all the previous day, it had been impossible for Caroline to deny her a trip to the farm. Meg’s greatest desire was to ride Ginger, but Caroline was quite sure that they would not escape the place without a visit to the cow barn as well.

“Hurry, Mama!”

Caroline picked up her pace, grateful that Meg had heeded her injunction to not open the gate herself. She reached her daughter in time to see Giles crossing the farmyard from the milking parlor. Meg spotted him too.

“Good day, Mr. Giles!” she called.

The older man looked over and waved his hand. “Good day t’ ya, young lady.” He deviated from his course to join them at the gate. “Are ya come t’ ride Ginger or t’ see the cows?” he asked, releasing the latch.

“Ginger first.” Meg hopped. “Then the cows.”

Caroline had guessed correctly. Perhaps she should start counting her blessings that Farwell Farm didn’t have an even greater variety of animals.

Giles waited until Caroline and Meg stepped into the yard, and then he closed the gate behind them. “I daresay John’ll be right glad t’ see ya. ’E’s ’ad Saxon an’ a couple o’ the other horses out already, but I ’aven’t seen Ginger yet.”

“Saxon is Lord Benting’s horse,” Meg informed him.

Humor lit Giles’s eyes. “So I believe.”

She raised the dandelion in her hand. Sometime during the last minute or two, she had bent it, and the yellow head now drooped downward. “I picked this for him. Do you think he will like it?”

“No doubt about it.” Giles’s expression turned rueful. “But I’m afraid ya’ve just missed ’is lordship. ’E were ’ere fer the milkin’ but left right after.”

Meg turned her crestfallen face to Caroline. “Lord Benting is not here, Mama.”

Caroline had expected that such news would bring a surge of relief. And it did, in small measure. But she had not been prepared for the much larger wave of disappointment that quickly followed.

“Perhaps Mr. Giles would appreciate the gift instead,” she suggested.