Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman (22 page)

Miss Cooper paused before him, her basket
full of eggs, as was his, and together they exited into the fresh
sunlight morning where they placed the baskets in the back of the
wagon.

“I’ll see that everything is delivered and
return the pails and baskets to you,” the young man assured Miss.
Cooper.

“Thank you, Clive.” She smiled sweetly at
him. “Will you be able to help tomorrow as well? I am not sure how
long my father will be in recovering from his fall.”

“Of course, Miss Cooper.” He nodded, a
crimson stain coming to his cheeks before he hopped up into the
seat of the wagon and drove off. The boy was smitten, and who could
blame him.

Miss Cooper turned and walked into the barn
once again and removed her gloves. “We will have to take care of
your arms.” She gestured to his many bite marks. “I should have
warned you.”

“I will be sure to be better protected next
time. On that you have my promise.”

Miss Cooper bit her lip as if trying not to
laugh. Matthew didn’t care if she laughed at him or not. It was
good to see her smile again. He knew there would be very few of
them in the days to come. But she was correct in one matter, he
needed to wash his arms, and find a clean shirt to put on. Though
he hated to leave her for but a few moments with her father’s
condition unclear, he couldn’t remain dressed as he was. But he
wasn’t going to leave until he had checked on Mr. Cooper one last
time and Matthew followed Miss Grace from the barn and toward the
house. They had just rounded the stable and were in the drive when
a voice stopped them.

“I cannot believe what I am seeing.”

Matthew and Miss Cooper turned toward the
older female voice. It was Mrs. Montgomery. She was walking along
the drive, coming from the front of the house.

“I cannot tell you how disappointed I am at
such a sight.”

What was she talking about?

“To think our vicar and you, Miss
Cooper.”

Miss Cooper took a step forward. “I don’t
know what you mean.”

The woman drew up and thrust her chin in the
air. “I am not blind. Look at the two of you, coming from the barn
of all places, looking like that.”

Miss Cooper glanced down at herself and then
over at Matt, her face taking on a pink hue. They had literally
risen from their sleep earlier and had done nothing to repair their
appearance. Matthew took a step forward. “It is not what you think
and your assumptions are wrong.”

“Are they?” She demanded with a sniff.

“Yes,” Matthew bit out. “I was simply helping
Miss Cooper milk the cows and gather the eggs this morning. She had
a long difficult night following her father’s fall.”

Her eyebrow arched. “You were here all
night?”

As much as Matthew would love to lie to the
woman he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was a vicar and vicars did not
lie, even to protect the reputation of a young woman. “Yes. I was
here to offer support while we waited to see if Mr. Cooper would
survive the night.”

“Nobody else was here?” A calculating gleam
came to the woman’s eyes that did not bode well for Miss
Cooper.

“Perkins, my father’s valet did not leave his
side,” Miss Cooper answered.

“No females to act as guardian?” Mrs.
Montgomery asked in a low, menacing voice.

“No,” Miss Cooper answered. “Nor were any
necessary.”

“I beg to differ.”

“We were taking care of my father.”

Matthew straightened and looked at Miss
Cooper. Did she raise her voice to Mrs. Montgomery?

“Your father is, or was unconscious, Grace,
so he hardly qualifies as a proper chaperone.”

Miss Cooper straightened and crossed her arms
over her chest. The situation was quickly swirling out of control
and Matthew knew he needed to say something quickly to defuse the
situation. “I can assure you, Mrs. Montgomery that I was here
purely in a supportive capacity as her vicar and minister.”

The haughty woman raised an eyebrow and
looked him over from the top of his head to the filth on his boots
and back up until her eyes met his. “Clearly.”

“I don’t wish to be rude,” Miss Cooper
interrupted. “But why are you here, Mrs. Montgomery. I would like
to return to my father if you don’t mind.”

“I had heard someone tried to kill your
father and came to offer my support.” She stiffened again. “I can
see I am not needed.” With that she pivoted on her heel and marched
back toward her carriage, nose in the air.

“Oh dear, she is the town’s worst
gossip.”

“Don’t worry,” Matthew was quick to assure
Miss Cooper. “I doubt anyone will pay attention to her words or
anything she has to say for that matter.” And, he truly prayed that
was the case.

Grace paused inside the entrance to the house
and glanced into the mirror. Goodness, she was a fright. Why hadn’t
she bothered to look into a mirror before now? One would think she
just rolled out of bed. Even her dress was wrinkled beyond repair.
No wonder Mrs. Montgomery was so rude.

She turned away from the mirror. It didn’t
matter. Grace’s appearance could have been pristine and that woman
would still have found cause to complain. Mrs. Montgomery had never
liked her and never would, though Grace could not for the life of
her understand. She had never caused the woman harm before, or said
an ill word against her. And Audrey, her best friend, was the
woman’s daughter. Grace couldn’t credit it and decided it wasn’t
worth the effort to worry and understand. She didn’t have the
energy to do so right now anyway. Instead, she would check on her
father and if he were still sleeping, she would retire to her room
and put herself to rights before anyone bothered to visit
again.

Vicar Trent closed the door as Grace began to
walk down the hall. “I wouldn’t let her upset you.”

Grace stopped and turned to look at him. “I
won’t. Besides, you are a vicar. How could anyone think poorly of
you? Me perhaps, but never you.” Though she had to admit, he looked
as bedraggled as she did. If she had come upon two individuals
leaving the barn looking such as they did, she may have very well
jumped to a similar conclusion, as ridiculous as it seemed. The
idea of Vicar Trent wishing to do whatever people did in privacy
with her was absurd.

His shirt was torn from the hens and the once
white linen was blood streaked. “Oh dear, your arms. Come with me
to the kitchen.”

He held up his hands. “There is no need. I am
sure I will heal in no time.” He nodded toward the back of the
house. “Go check on your father.”

She gave another glance at his arms. They
could wait, but she would tend him. It was the least she could do
after he had come to her aid so many times these past few days.

When she entered the room, her father slept
soundly, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Perkins
dozed in the corner, chin against his chest. As quietly as
possible, Grace picked up the tea service and carried it from the
room. She would need to see about some form of sustenance before
the day was out and before they all starved.

Vicar Trent was still standing in the entry
when she came back down the hall. “How is your father?”

“Resting peacefully.” Grace could feel the
smile on her lips. Though she shouldn’t smile, given her father’s
grave condition, there were signs that he was on the mend and for
that she was relieved.

Vicar Trent followed her into the kitchen and
she placed a new pot of water on to heat.

“Please sit, and let me look at your
arms.”

He did so, and rolled up the sleeves of his
shirt. His arms were marred with cuts and scrapes though most of
them had stopped bleeding. But it did appear the hens got the
better of him. There was brisk knock at the door and Grace
straightened and Vicar Trent turned in his seat. She placed a hand
on his shoulder. “I will be right back.”

It wasn’t far to the front door but Grace
prayed it wasn’t another nosey, judgmental neighbor. Had anyone
else been with her besides the Vicar, her reputation would be in
shreds already. No doubt Mrs. Montgomery wasted no time in going
into town and spreading her filthy innuendos to the first person
who would listen. But, at least those in town knew her and wouldn’t
believe what the woman said since she was with Vicar Trent.

Grace took a deep breath and flung the door
open. A sigh escaped when she realized it was his brother, Mr.
Trent.

“Good morning, Miss Cooper.” He bowed
slightly. “How is your father?”

She stepped back so he could enter. “He has
awakened but only long enough to take some tea.”

“That is a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Mr. Trent glanced beyond her and started to
chuckle. “What, pray tell, happened to you?”

Grace turned to find Vicar Trent standing in
the door leading to the dining room. His shirtsleeves rolled up
revealing the bloody scratches on his arms.

“Chickens.”

“Hens,” she corrected.

“Do I want to know why or how?” Mr. Trent
continued to chuckle and placed his hat on the table just inside
the door.

“Vicar Trent was kind enough to help me milk
the cows this morning and gather eggs. The hens didn’t particularly
care for him.”

“Cows? Hens?” Soon Mr. Trent would be
laughing too hard to remain upright and Vicar Trent’s complexion
had taken on a lovely rosy hue. What would it be like to have a
sibling? For years it had been just she and her father. A younger,
or older, brother or sister would have been nice. Then she wouldn’t
feel so all alone, especially after her father’s accident.

She moved forward and gently grasped Vicar
Trent’s upper arm. “Back to the kitchen.”

He turned easily enough and didn’t pull his
arm from her grasp. She could hear Mr. Trent’s boots click across
the wood floor as he followed them through the dining room into the
kitchen. The tea kettle was whistling when she entered and she
moved to take it from the stove and placed three cups on the
table.

“Do you take anything in your tea, Mr.
Trent?”

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I
can pour my own. You should see to my brother.” There was a hint of
mischief in his eyes and he bit his lip as if to hide a grin.

Grace placed sugar and milk on the table
before rummaging through another cupboard that held bandages and
salves. These she placed on the table before wetting a cloth and
cleaning Vicar Trent’s arms.

The two men talked as she worked.

“What did Brachton say?” Vicar Trent asked
after Mr. Trent placed a cup of tea within reach.

“He will not even give consideration to a
hearing or guardianship until after Mr. Cooper recovers enough to
tell us what happened, or new evidence is found that can tell us
who tried to kill him.”

Grace felt as if a burden had been lifted
from her shoulders. Even though she hadn’t given any thought to the
upcoming hearing, it apparently had been in the back of her mind,
sitting like a rock of worry because as soon as Mr. Trent said
there would be no hearing yet it felt as if a heavy weight had been
lifted.

“My father isn’t well enough to tell us
anything yet,” Grace offered as she smeared a foul smelling salve
across the cuts. “Even then he will have to write what he
knows.”

Mr. Trent leaned forward and placed his cup
on the table. “Do you know of anyone who could have done this?”

She paused in her task and looked at him. “I
won’t want to believe his brother would, but who else has anything
to gain by my father’s death?”

“Had anyone else been around the area that
day, before you came to Brachton’s?” Vicar Trent asked.

Grace picked up the roll of bandage and began
to wound it around his arm, going over the day’s events in her
mind. “When I left town I passed Mr. Thorn in the woods. I then cut
through the yard.” She tied off the end and picked up another roll
and began bandaging Vicar Trent’s second arm. “On the road I passed
Mr. Richards. He wanted to discuss our potential betrothal.”

“Anyone else?” Vicar Trent prompted.

“No. Uncle left Brachton’s before us and we
all saw Mr. Draker.”

“Who did appear to be in a hurry,” Mr. Trent
offered.

“But I can’t imagine any of them having
anything to gain.” She sank down into a chair and picked up a cup
of tea.

“Perhaps when we are more rested something
will come to us.” Vicar Trent stood and began to roll down his
sleeves.

“You do look like you didn’t get much sleep,
brother.” Mr. Trent blew into his tea but Grace could see the grin
on his lips. Certainly he didn’t think something improper happened,
did he. His brother was a vicar for heaven’s sake.

“It was a long night. Mr. Cooper didn’t wake
until this morning.”

The grin disappeared from Mr. Trent’s face
and he became serious.

“I need to return home to clean up.” Vicar
Trent looked to his brother. “Could you please stay with Miss
Cooper and her father until I return?”