Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 8
Tabetha’s face flushed a mottled red, but Jenny, murmuring “Excuse me,” did not appear to notice.
Dan strolled out of the room after her and closed the door. “You are rather magnificent, you know.”
“Sisterly banter,” his mother said, waving it aside. Reaching the staircase, she glanced at him. “Is she really here so often, looking after him? Has he needed it?”
“I would doubt it. As far as I can get out of Waits and Griffin, the old devil was fine until a couple of months ago, and then went downhill.”
Her eyes, for once, were serious. “Then he really is dying?”
“I don’t know that he is. Undeniably, he’s been ill and much weakened, but…well, see what you think.”
She paused at the door of her father’s rooms. “You don’t need to come with me.”
“I know. But I will.”
She searched his face and smiled. “No one believes me when I tell them how good you are.”
“Not surprised,” Dan said as the door opened, and Waits stood there almost crying with joy.
“Miss Jenny!” He took her proffered hands and hung on to them. “It fills my old heart to see you at Myerly again at last.”
“Bring her in here, you old fool!” came Lord Myerly’s irascible tones.
Waits sighed and bowed them through.
“Well, well, Mrs. Stewart,” the old man mocked from his bed. “I am honored indeed.” He scowled, catching sight of Dan. “What are you doing here? Go away. I didn’t send for you.”
“Nevertheless, I shall stay,” Dan said mildly, holding the chair by the bed for his mother to sit.
“And why is that?” the old man challenged.
“To remind her, if necessary, that she doesn’t need to put up with your insults.”
“Oh, she’s never needed reminding about that. Ran away from them twenty-eight years ago and never came back.”
“I didn’t run away from your insults, as you very well know,” Jenny said calmly. “They were merely water off a duck’s back. I ran away to marry John Stewart.”
He stared. “You still seem mighty proud of such a paltry match!”
“I am.”
The old man curled his lip and waved his hand toward Dan. “And see where it’s left you.”
“I am also proud of Dan.”
Lord Myerly pushed back against his pillows. “You’re much calmer than you used to be.”
“I hear you aren’t. How are you, Papa?”
The question seemed to take him by surprise. He dragged his gaze free and looked at his hands on the coverlet. “Weak as a kitten. I suppose that’s why you came. You want Myerly for your wastrel son.”
“Of course I do,” she replied. “But I know perfectly well that makes no difference to you. Tabby and Hetty also want it for their sons. You’ll give it where you like. If you want the truth, I came to see if there was any forgiveness in you.” She held his fierce old gaze as he glanced up. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you.”
He glared at his bedside table as if wondering what to seize and throw. “Forgive me? Am I supposed to be grateful? You have not even apologized for running away!”
“And I never will. I don’t regret it. Though I do regret it was necessary.”
“Shameless, disobedient, s—”
“Careful,” Dan warned.
“Bah!” his grandfather shouted.
Jenny took her father’s hand, an act that surprised him so much, he let it happen. She glanced up at Dan and, reluctantly, he walked out of the room and left them to it.
Chapter Seven
Later, Dan collected Gun and went for a walk with his mother. They headed westward and climbed the hill among some incurious sheep. Dan let Gun grow used to their presence, even sniff one or two before he let him off the leash. The dog bounded ahead, more interested in other smells.
From the summit, they could see over the lower slopes as far as Kidfield on one side and Hornby on the other. The beauty Dan had noticed yesterday struck him again, and although he didn’t really want to feel anything for this land, he found he did.
They didn’t speak. After a moment, his mother’s fingers curled around his, and he squeezed them in return. Because he knew she would prefer it, he pretended not to see the dampness on her face as they turned and began to descend the hill once more.
“I’ve waited a long time to come home,” she said. “I didn’t even know I missed it. I’m glad I came.”
“Will it be harder to leave again?”
“Not if your grandfather wills it to you,” she said lightly. “Because then, I can come back whenever you like.”
“He wants us to fight over it,” Dan said abruptly. “I’m pretty sure that’s what’s reviving him. He won’t will Myerly to me, because I won’t play.”
“That’s another reason I came,” she admitted. “To tell you that if you are doing this for me, you don’t need to. You don’t even need to do it for yourself. I have decided to marry Geoffrey.”
He made an involuntary movement of disgust.
She took his arm and shook it. “Don’t be like that, Dan. He is a good man, and he makes me laugh. And he will provide for us both.”
“Damn it, Mother,” he exploded. “If I want anything from my grandfather, it is so you don’t feel obliged to make such a choice!”
“Oh, I never feel obliged to do anything. And you should not feel obliged to toady your grandfather for me.”
He cast her a rueful smile. “I came with the intention of trying, but when I’m with them, all that flies out the window. Are you and he friends again?”
She considered. “I would not say friends. He is not a man who forgives easily. But he asked for me. Possibly to spite my sisters, but still, he did it. And I came. That has to mean something.”
“Do you think he is dying?”
“I think he could have died. Now…I don’t know, and according to Waits, neither does the doctor.”
“I think he might have been holding on for you,” Dan said. “I think he wanted one last fight, and you took the wind out of his sails.”
She sighed. “I was angry too long. It bores me now. I want to be happy and frivolous.”
“You are happy and frivolous. You don’t need Geoffrey Pilney to be more so. You don’t love him, do you?”
“Oh, what do you know of love?”
For some reason, Juliet Lilbourne’s laughing face drifted through his mind. He banished it. “Nothing,” he said crossly. “But I do know you loved my father, and whatever you feel for Pilney is just not the same.”
“Of course, it is not. How could it be? I am not the same woman who ran away with your father. Who is this, now?”
A man on horseback was riding around the base of the hill in the direction of the hamlet. Catching sight of Dan and his mother, he changed direction to come and meet them. Gun barked and dashed toward him, clearly giving both horse and rider reason to pause. Used to such situations, Dan loped forward to catch the dog and tie the velvet ribbon round his neck again.
Jenny peered at the silent newcomer. “Why…why it’s Patrick!”
The rider, of craggy late-middle years, broke into smiles and dismounted, striding the last few paces past Gun to meet her. “Miss Jenny, as I live and breathe! I heard a rumor you were back but refused to believe it. Well, well, you are still pretty as a picture.”
She laughed. “Why, so are you, Patrick! I suppose you must have a huge parcel of children by now?”
“Expecting my first grandchild any day,” Patrick said proudly.
“Dan, Patrick is my father’s steward—” She broke off, frowning. “Or at least, he was.”
“Still am,” Patrick said ruefully. “No one else will take on the wretched position.”
“I’m not surprised,” Jenny said frankly. “Patrick, this is my son, Daniel Stewart.”
Dan offered his hand, and the steward, looking surprised, shook it a trifle awkwardly. “Why is the position so wretched?”
“Dealing with his lordship, for one,” Patrick replied. “For another…breaks my heart to work the land to death and put nothing back. Even by the old standards, we could do better than this, and my son talks of all those new-fangled farming ideas that—” He broke off with an apologetic shrug. “But there, I won’t bore you with that. I suppose you’ll be going back to the big house for tea.”
“I suppose we will,” Jenny said. She smiled. “Unless your Lizzie would like a guest?”
Patrick beamed. “She would love it.”
Dan was happy enough to tag along, both touched and intrigued by the way his mother was remembered after all these years. He had been to Myerly several times and never encountered Patrick, or if he had, he didn’t remember it. But then, he hadn’t really paid a great deal of attention to his surroundings before.
Gun was slightly miffed to be tied up outside the cottage, though he cheered up when Patrick’s younger children burst out of the door to play with him.
Mrs. Patrick came out in their wake and greeted Jenny with tears in her eyes. Proudly, she introduced her children and her heavily pregnant daughter-in-law, who was quickly summoned from her own cottage for the treat of meeting the important visitors from the big house.
While Jenny drank tea and gossiped, Dan got into a conversation with Patrick about the land, bringing up what he had learned from the farmers earlier in the day. He learned a good deal more from Patrick, and more yet from Pat, Patrick’s eldest son, who was full of frustrated enthusiasm for new methods that would work wonders. Only Lord Myerly would not countenance the necessary cost.
“Foolishness,” Dan said, frowning.
“He doesn’t care,” Pat burst out. “Because he gets good money from his land in the south. But it’s us who live and work here that suffer. Not him.”
“That’ll do, Pat,” his father growled.
“No, no, I asked for the truth,” Dan said quickly. “I suppose you must both have spoken to his lordship about all this? Urged such reforms?”
“He’s not interested,” Patrick said again. “It bores him.”
“And would cost him money to begin with, when he doesn’t see the point,” Dan murmured. “Because he hasn’t been out of the house in years.”
“To be fair, the workings of the land never interested him much before that either,” Patrick said.
“Hmm.”
It all made Dan very thoughtful as they walked back to the house. He was aware of his mother watching him with something like amusement, but she didn’t interrupt the silence.
*
Dan rose at dawn again the following morning, put Gun on his increasingly crusty leash, and went down to the kitchen, where the cook had made him up another breakfast parcel and a bowl of scraps for Gun.
“Bless you,” he said gratefully, letting Gun wolf his breakfast before they started off.
“Hmph,” the cook sniffed, but he could tell she was pleased. He suspected kind words didn’t come her way very often.
The kitchen door opened, and a young maid came in, yawning prodigiously. She stopped dead at sight of Dan, fear sparking in her eyes. It was the girl who’d walked past on the other side of the river yesterday morning. With her lover.
“Good morning,” Dan said, amiably.
The girl blushed a fiery red and bobbed a hasty curtsey.
“Hurry up, girl!” the cook commanded. “Let’s have water on to boil and then grate yesterday’s bread to coat the fish. A day off yesterday doesn’t entitle you to another today!”
Dan watched thoughtfully as the maid rushed to obey. “What’s her name?” he asked the cook.
“Susan? Smith, apparently. Why?” The cook glared as though he was disappointing her by planning the seduction of her assistant.
“Oh, no reason,” he replied, picking up Gun’s empty bowl and dropping it in the basin. “I met another Smith recently.”
He left by the back door and lingered a moment, half-expecting the maid to come and speak to him. When she didn’t, he set off toward Hornby, cutting across country to the river. Gun was learning manners and had stopped trying to chase the cattle, though he did shoot off at random angles often enough to worry his master. However, he always came back quickly with great excitement. If he was chasing something, he never caught it.
When he crossed the bridge, there was no sign of Juliet. The stab of disappointment took him by surprise, but since Gun dashed happily off toward where they had left her yesterday, he followed. Around the bend, he still could not see her. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings by his hesitation yesterday, for she had been hurt enough. Then it struck him it was probably best if she was hurt, or at least offended because these clandestine meetings would not be good for her reputation. Still, he would miss her. He had looked forward to seeing her again.
A movement in the trees caught his attention. A young lady standing before an easel, busily painting. In the early morning light, it was a delightful vignette, and he couldn’t help smiling with relief as well as pleasure. He turned off the path and strode toward her.
Gun, already investigating the wood, exploded through the trees, throwing himself at Juliet. She laughed, setting down her brush just in time to receive his full weight. She staggered backward before she pushed him off and ruffled his head with both hands.
Still smiling, she straightened to face Dan. “Good morning. I wasn’t sure you would come, so I prepared to entertain myself.”
She had been painting the sunrise over the river in watercolors. The pink and gold of the sky reflected in the water, the whole framed by the tree branches she had been looking through.
“That’s rather good,” he said, impressed. “Have you been here since four in the morning?”
She laughed. “No, I always paint quickly, because I have no talent, only instinct.”
“They seem to be the same thing in your case. Do you want to finish it before breakfast?”
She considered. “Do you know, I might leave it as it is?”
“Eat, then see what you think,” he advised.
She had come prepared this morning, with a blanket already thrown on the ground. He dropped the cook’s parcel on top, and Juliet hastily retrieved if before Gun could get to it.
“Did you carry this all the way here yourself?” he asked.
“It would defeat the object to bring a footman. Or my brother. Actually, I thought about bringing Ferdy, but I don’t want him to have to lie. I suspect he would like you, though.”
“I’m a likable fellow,” Dan said with mock pride. “I gather you are still restricted?”
She wrinkled her nose, settling on the blanket while he pushed Gun off and sat in the dog’s place. “I am. But Kitty and Ferdy—my sister and brother—are working on my father’s sympathies for me. Personally, I doubt he will be in the least receptive unless he gets some kind of reasonable answer from the Alfords. Though, what he would count as reasonable, I have no idea. How is your grandfather? Is he still improving?”
Dan reached for some bread and ham. “So far as I can tell. But you could have knocked me down with a feather when I found who was waiting for me when I got back to Myerly yesterday. My mother.”
“Goodness! Did that please or anger his lordship?”
“Apparently the old devil had sent for her, too, but she only left London when she discovered I had. I think she’s glad to end their feud. I suspect he is, too, though he’ll never admit it. It’s my aunts who are infuriated by her appearance.”
“Because she is further competition for the estate?”
Dan shifted restlessly. “I told him he should will it to all his daughters on condition they sell the place and divide the proceeds equally.”
Juliet swallowed her piece of cheese and found the apple. “Do you still have your knife to cut it?”
Obligingly, Dan cut the apple in two and twisted out the core for her. She smiled her thanks, and he felt a fresh jolt of awareness. She really was incredibly beautiful when she smiled. Several seconds too late, he realized she was gazing at him expectantly, and he tried to remember what he had been talking about before cutting the apple.
“Do you no longer think equal division is the way to go?” She bit into the apple, and he looked hastily away.
“It probably would,” he said, dragging his mind back to the conversation. “It would be fairest. And whoever bought the estate would surely look after it better than my grandfather, which has to be good for the people and the land. Only…”
“Only what?” she prompted.
He shifted restlessly. “I don’t really know. It seems a shame to remove it from the family. My mother has strong feelings for the place.”
“As do you,” she guessed, wiping her mouth on the napkin.
He shrugged. “Not strong feelings,” he disputed. “I can count on one hand the number of times I was ever here. But yes, I suppose I do feel something. Still, it isn’t up to me, is it? The old man will play his games and do as he wishes. Though perhaps I can get him to listen to reason before that.”
“Reason about what?” she asked curiously.
“The state of the land and the improvements that could and should be made.”
She blinked. “I did not know you were interested in agricultural matters.”
He grinned self-consciously. “I wasn’t before yesterday. It’s my new obsession. I’m subject to them, you know. Why didn’t you think I would come this morning?
She colored, looking even more adorable. “Because I sensed you didn’t really want to. And I had forgotten that while you are my only friend outside of the house, I am not yours.”
“Actually, you are.” He picked up the remaining half apple. “And as I recall, it was my idea we should meet again.” He raised his gaze from the apple to her face. “I’m not used to considering right and wrong, let alone taking responsibility for it. But if you are seen with me, it won’t be good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”
“I won’t. But I would hate you to feel obliged to come and see me out of pity.”
“Pity?” He stared at her.
