Page 38 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

The thought of Arabella lying in the arms of another man twisted his insides. Not that he was jealous. It was just that she was his and his alone. Nor did he intend to fall in love. That had never been his intention, no matter who he married. Love made for misunderstandings and hurt feelings. In addition to poor Wentworth, he’d seen other besotted husbands act in such crazed ways that he never wanted to be counted among their numbers. He’d always had an abhorrence of appearing foolish.

Nash was discussing the mixture they used for feed for his horses with one of the grooms when Arabella joined him. A footman carrying the baskets followed behind. Once again, he observed her as she instructed the servant where to place the food inside the wagon. She did, indeed, present herself as the perfect picture of a noble’s wife. Off to visit the tenants and offer advice and food items.

Her blue bonnet didn’t hide the front of her hair where the tight braids were fastened, the golden-brown locks woven into an intricate pattern. Even in the dull gray of the low-hanging clouds, Nash felt her presence like sunshine. Her smile was genuine, and warmth from her happy demeanor spread through his insides.

“Are we ready?” The excitement in her voice brought a smile to his face, and a sense of adventure. Never before had he so looked forward to tenant visits. Of course, given how little time he’d spent at the Manor since he’d gained his title, tenant visits had fallen off since his father’s death.

“Yes. We are all ready.” He helped Arabella into the carriage and followed her in. With the baskets piled on one of the benches, they sat together on the other bench. He took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers as the carriage rolled away from the manor and headed toward Mr. and Mrs. Blossom’s house, the closest cottage. Arabella turned to him. “Tell me about the first tenants we’re to visit.”

Nash rested his booted foot on his bent knee. “Harold Blossom and his wife, Emma, have four children. They occupy what used to be his parents’ home and adjoining farm. Old Ned Blossom passed on a few years ago. Up until his death, he kept his finger in their farm operation, giving Harold a lot of advice.” He grinned. “Some of it even wanted, I imagine.

“Harold and I, along with some of the other lads, spent our summers swimming in the pond—that is, when I could dodge my tutor.”

Arabella appeared shocked. “Your parents allowed you to play with the tenants’ children?”

Nash nodded and pointed out the window. “There is the Blossom farm.” Neat rows of oats and rye stretched from the back of the house and out a few acres. A small garden that supplied the large family with vegetables and herbs sat alongside the east side of the house. Mrs. Blossom had used the front area of the farmhouse to plant flowers. Even with four children to tend to, the house and yard were well kept.

Nash stepped from the carriage and assisted Arabella just as Blossom and his wife approached them, bright welcoming smiles on their faces. Mrs. Blossom carried a baby on her hip and another little one attached to her skirts. Harold stuck his hand out. “My lord. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

Not standing on ceremony with these longtime tenants, Nash took the farmer’s hand and they shook. “’Tis good to see you, as well, Blossom. It’s been far too long.”

“Yes, it has.” Harold motioned with his chin toward his wife. “We have two new little ones since you last visited.”

Nash felt the stabbing guilt at having neglected the responsibilities to his estate. He had soothed his conscience by telling himself his duties to Parliament took precedence. Standing here with this hardworking farmer, looking at the land worked by the man’s family for generations, brought the realization that he had been quite mistaken. If, indeed, there were shenanigans going on with Jones, he truly had no one to blame but himself. He vowed again to make sure he spent more time in Suffolk, seeing to his obligations.

Nash turned toward Arabella. “I would like to make known to you Mr. Harold Blossom and his wife, Mrs. Emma Blossom. Their family has lived here for generations.” He took her hand and pulled her forward. “This is my wife, her ladyship, the Countess of Clarendon.”

Arabella smiled at the couple. The man tugged on the brim of his hat, and the woman did a quick dip.

“Oh my lady, ’tis a true pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Blossom smiled brightly at Arabella. “We were so thrilled when word reached us that the master had married.” She looked toward Nash. “I hope that means we will be seeing more of you, my lord.”

“That is my full intention, Mrs. Blossom. I am afraid I have been somewhat neglectful since my father’s passing. That will soon change.”

“We brought your family a little something from our cook.” Arabella held out the basket to Mrs. Blossom. “I hope you enjoy her efforts.”

The woman’s cheeks grew rosy. “Thank you so much, my lady. I am sure we will.”

…

Arabella knelt to the ground and spoke to the little girl clinging to her mother’s skirts. “Hello, little one. What is your name?”

The girl twisted her tiny hand in her mother’s skirts and tugged them forward to cover her face.

“I’m so sorry, my lady,” the mother said. “She’s a shy one, this one. Her name is Dorothy.” She tapped the little girl on the head. “Remember your manners. Say hello to Lady Clarendon.”

Dorothy shook her head back and forth and stuck her little thumb into her mouth, continuing to stare at Arabella with wide chocolate-brown eyes.

“That is all right, Mrs. Blossom. I understand. I was quite shy as a child, myself.” Arabella rose.

“Oh dear me. Here I am, scolding my Dorothy for poor manners, and I am leaving you to stand out here. Please come inside and have some tea. I just finished baking some biscuits.” Mrs. Blossom led the way for them all to enter the house.

It was a small cottage, smelling of sugar and spices. Probably from the biscuits she’d just baked. Two little boys sat at a table, sharing a worn book. One was reading aloud with corrections made by his brother. The house was warm and comfortable. Mrs. Blossom had made a cozy home for her family. Arabella was amazed at what the family had done with the limited resources they had available to them.

Arabella took a seat near

the two boys and read along with them while still conversing with Mrs. Blossom. Nash discussed farm matters with the husband, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown at some of the information the farmer gave him. After about twenty minutes, Nash nodded at Arabella and stood. “I’m afraid as much as I am enjoying our conversation, Lady Clarendon and I have other calls to make.”

The couple walked with them to the carriage. Just as they were saying their final good-byes, one of the boys raced from the small house shouting for his father. Blossom grabbed the boy by the shoulders. “Whoa there, son. What is all the shouting about?”