The Rescue (24 page)

Brown Manor

“Mrs Weston has returned,” Mansfield informed his employer, watching as he immediately set his work aside and went to meet her.

“How did it go?” Weston asked, taking Anne’s hand as she emerged from the carriage.

“Very well, thank you.”

“Your father is all right?”

“Yes, he’s been wandering a bit, but he seemed fine.”

“Good. Some things arrived while you were away.” Weston offered his arm as they went inside. “I didn’t open them.”

Anne looked up at her husband, her mind at sea.

“What sort of things?” she ventured.

“Without opening them I couldn’t be specific, but I believe they might be wedding gifts.”

Anne’s mouth dropped open in an amusing way, and Weston laughed.

“Is it really so surprising?”

They had come to the small salon, and Anne now saw the packages for herself.

“It shouldn’t be, but for some reason it is.”

Weston continued to smile at her reaction.

“Shall we see what’s come?”

“All right.”

But Weston wouldn’t open a thing. Three packages had arrived, and he was happy to watch his wife open them, handing her one after another.

“It’s from Pastor and Judith.” Anne read the card and then brought forth a lovely pair of candlesticks.

The next gift was from the Crofts, who had sent bookends. The last box contained long-stemmed goblets from Dr and Mrs Smith.

Anne, looking as stunned as she felt, said, “Everything is so lovely. I’ll have to get notes off soon.”

“How are you for stationery?”

“A bit low, I think.”

“Well, when you next head into town and need spending money, it’s in my study. I’ll show you exactly where.”

Anne looked dreadfully uncomfortable with this, and Weston waited to see what was on her mind.

“How much will I know to take?” she ventured after a moment’s thought.

“Whatever you need.”

“How much is that?”

Weston smiled.

“I’ve no fears of you bankrupting us, Anne. If you have a large purchase coming up and wish to check with me, that’s fine, but I’m not going to lord it over you and check your every purchase.”

“I didn’t think that you would.”

Weston’s brow suddenly furrowed.

“What did you and your father do for money?”

“Oh, various things. We might sell something, or I might do a small job that gave us a little bit. Sometimes someone from the church would help us.”

“It sounds like it could have been humbling.”

“Indeed,” Anne admitted. “I found that pride can be an ugly thing, and we have more pride than we like to think.”

“At the same time,” Weston reasoned, “we don’t own anything. We have what we have only because God bestows it upon us.”

“I could have used your voice of reason many years ago. It took me quite a long time to figure that out. It felt so awful to be without and to think of myself as a charity work, but as you said, everything is from God’s hand, which means we’re all works of charity—His charity.”

“That’s nicely put, Anne.”

Feeling shy of a sudden, Anne studied her fingernails. Weston followed her gaze. A moment later, he reached over and picked up her right hand. He studied two broken nails before relinquishing her hand and meeting her eyes.

“Let me guess. You cleaned while at Levens Crossing.”

“I did dust a bit,” Anne admitted, hearing that his tone was light.

“Hmm. I can see I’m going to have to keep an eye on you. I think the next time you visit, I’ll just send along a maid.”

“Then what will I do?”

“You’ll just visit with your father.”

“What if he wants to know about the maid?”

Weston’s brows rose and his mouth quirked. “Do you honestly think he’ll notice?”

A laugh escaped Anne before she could stop it. She put a hand to her mouth, an action that only widened Weston’s smile.

“I like your laugh, Anne Weston.”

“And I like how committed you are to seeing after my needs, even though I don’t always know what to do about it.”

“That was wonderfully honest.”

Anne nodded. “I’m working on that. It’s not easy.”

“No, but wouldn’t it be a shame if months from now we’re still strangers?”

“Yes, it would, so in light of that, I’ll ask you how your day has gone and if you accomplished your work in the study?”

“My day has gone well, thank you, and as for my work in the study, I’m looking into purchasing some land so I’m scouring my accounts to make sure I’ve kept everything in order.”

“Is the land nearby?”

“Yes. It’s a parcel over near Escomb Dale. It’s not openly on the market, but Mr Vintcent, the architect who designed the conservatory, heard of something and mentioned it. When I checked into it, I was quoted a rather irresistible price. I have until the end of the week to give my answer.”

“Who owns it right now?”

“It’s part of an estate owned by the Brodhead family. Evidently Brodhead hates the area and would love to be rid of it.”

“I’ve heard of him all my life but never met him.”

“He never lived here. He prefers Bath or London, so I’m told.”

It occurred to both husband and wife at that moment that they were talking like old friends. Their eyes met and both smiled.

What a lovely thing
, Anne thought when the two eventually parted, Anne to clean up for lunch and Weston to check on the conservatory.
I like him. He makes it very easy to like him.

Thornton Hall

Marianne woke slowly, her body feeling heavy and fatigued. She lay still and listened to the clock strike nine times, nearly shaking her head at how late it was. She had gone to bed almost ten hours ago and slept hard all night.

The sound of footsteps brought her eyes completely open, and she smiled to see Jennings headed her way.

“Good morning.”

His deep voice always caused her to smile.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Tired. And tired of being tired.”

The handsome man who sat on the bed stared down at his wife, his mouth just beginning to smile.

“If you had said yes to me the first or second time I’d proposed, you probably would have been pregnant sooner and already had the baby. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Marianne laughed. The way he’d proposed, or rather the tenacity in the process, was a long-standing joke between them.

“Shall I ring for tea?” he asked after he’d leaned to kiss her.

“No, I think I’ll start with a cool bath. It’s been so warm, I feel a bit cooked.”

Jennings noticed that her face was flushed and her skin had been warm to his touch. And if the sun streaming through the windows was any indication, it was going to be another hot day.

An hour later Marianne, bathed, dressed, and finally ready for breakfast, was on her way downstairs when the first pain hit. Her back had been aching that morning for the first time, but she hadn’t expected this. She sat down on the stairs and gasped a little at the intensity of the contraction. Even when it eased she kept her place and was glad when Thomas wandered by.

“Marianne, are you all right?”

“I am, Thomas, but I’ve decided to go back upstairs. Will you walk with me?”

Thomas offered a hand when she came to her feet and did as she asked. They visited companionably in her bedroom as another pain didn’t come for more than 15 minutes.

Had Marianne not been concentrating on the contraction of her abdomen, she might have laughed. Seeing her condition, Thomas ran as though his jacket were on fire, shouting for Jennings and generally informing the entire household that the baby was on its way.

Tipton

Both Palmer and Lydia met the three Jennings children when they arrived by coach, the children’s sober faces telling the story.

“When did contractions begin?” Palmer asked Thomas.

“About an hour ago.” Thomas briefly told his story of finding her on the stairs and finished with, “Jennings felt it best that we cleared out.”

“They’ll keep us informed,” Palmer assured him before lifting a dejected Penny into his arms. Lydia came close to speak to her.

“Margaret Hurst is here playing with the girls. The four of you will have a wonderful time.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” she said, the first tears coming.

“I know you didn’t, but Jennings knows best, Penny, and God can hear your prayers from Tipton. Marianne needs you to be praying right now.”

“I could have held her hand. I could have gotten her a drink.”

“And she would have appreciated that, but Jennings wants to make sure you’re all right too. That’s why he sent you here to us.”

James had hung back a bit, his own 12-year-old heart uncertain about all that was happening.

“How will we know?”

“They’ll send word,” Palmer informed him. “And if things go on a bit, Lydia can pop over and check on the progress.”

The children smiled at Lydia—she felt like another mother to them—before going into the house. When they left, Palmer and Lydia stood hugging on the drive. Oliver’s birth was very fresh in their minds, and they both knew very well what a special time this was.

“I’m so excited for them, Palmer.”

“As am I. I hope it’s a girl.”

Lydia laughed.

“There was a time when you didn’t care, Palmer. What’s come over you lately?”

“I’m growing opinionated in my old age.”

Lydia enjoyed this. She was still laughing when they started back inside.

Chapter Thirteen

Brown Manor

“Have you seen Mrs Weston?” Mr Weston asked of Mansfield on Friday just before lunch.

“I believe she took a basket to the garden, sir.”

“All right. That’s where I’ll be.”

“Did you wish me to speak to Mrs Weston about the menu, sir?”

“I’ll do it. Are we ready for the weekend?”

“Cook can plan the menu as she always does on Fridays, but she would prefer Mrs Weston’s input.”

“Of course. I’ll see to it right now.”

It didn’t prove as easy as it sounded. The gardens at the manor were extensive. When Weston didn’t find Anne in the kitchen garden, he wandered to the back and found her some distance away, to the south of the new construction site, a lone figure cutting blossoms and placing them in a basket. She was in a dress he hadn’t noticed before, but it was one that had seen better days. For a moment he absently wondered when would be the best time to tell her they were going to shop while in London. For most women this would be good news, but Weston was loath to do anything that might make Anne feel indebted to him.

Anne heard his approach and looked up, holding her basket in front of her.

“I’ve been found,” she said before he could speak.

“Were you hiding?”

“In this old dress, yes, I was.”

Weston couldn’t claim not to have noticed, but there was no point in admitting as much.

“What have you found?” he asked instead, concentrating on the contents of the basket.

Anne’s sigh was heartfelt. “Some of the loveliest flowers I’ve ever seen. These gardens are spectacular.”

“You’re not too warm?”