Moss Manor, page 14
“I think he found us,” Mr. Jackson quips.
“Perhaps,” she agrees with a grin. “Perhaps I needed him to find me.”
“Why is that?”
She shrugs. “To know that there is much more in this world and that I’m avoiding it.”
“We all cope in different ways,” he states. “You have your way of it and he has his.”
She glances up at him. “And, you have yours.”
“What am I coping with?”
She snickers. “Me.”
Mr. Jackson’s head bobs from side to side. “True.”
Lady Moss’ expression changes. “Am I that bad?”
He stares at her blankly for a moment. “Not at all. Why would you—“
“We are very different, Mr. Jackson,” she claims. “I like things my way and you like things your way.”
He wants to argue but knows now is not the time. Yes, they’re both stubborn, but he sees many more similarities between them. He’s seen it even more since several people have pointed it out.
“I think we have more in common than we think, Miss.”
She studies him for a moment, biting back a smile. “Perhaps.”
They sit for a long while, relaxed while they let their thoughts run free as the sound of the fire crackles in the background.
“Should I carry him to bed?”
“I believe so,” she giggles. “I think I cannot feel my right arm any longer.”
“I can chop it off if you’d like,” he offers.
“There’s your ill tongue I’ve missed,” she replies, stretching a little as she sits up. “I was wondering when it would grace me with its presence again.”
He chuckles as he slowly makes his way toward the door. “Yours never relents.”
“Blasphemy,” she huffs.
“Every word you speak is such,” he adds with a devious smile.
“Mama,” William mumbles.
Mr. Jackson and Lady Moss halt their steps and stare at each other.
“Mama,” the boy repeats with his eyes still shut.
She places her hand upon the small of his back. “I’m here.”
William’s eyes remain closed as a grin emerges on his lips. He reaches for her and she almost drops him, being caught off guard.
“You got him?” Mr. Jackson asks, keeping his hands on the boy.
“Yes,” she confirms, shifting him in her arms. “I did not expect that.”
“Nor I,” he replies.
William’s arms tighten around her neck, inspiring her’s do the same around his body.
“Do you want me to walk with you?” Mr. Jackson asks.
“Please,” she says. “I’ve never carried a large boy up three flights of stairs before. I’m afraid I’ll drop him.”
Mr. Jackson chuckles. “You’d die before you let anything happen to him.”
Her confidence returns a little. “Right.”
He gestures for Lady Moss to go first, staying close behind her as they make their way up the stairs. Mr. Jackson keeps his hand on the small of her back, letting her know that he is close by. She manages to get the boy to his room, though her arms ache by the time he’s laid upon the bed.
“Thank you, Mr. Jackson.” She studies the boy. “This isn’t the first time he’s managed to fall asleep before washing up for bed.”
“He’s a child,” Mr. Jackson says. “Particularly, a boy. We never like to wash up.”
Lady Moss looks at him and something catches her eye. She reaches over and takes a piece of lint off of his collar. “I can see that.”
Mr. Jackson’s lips purse. “That is not an accurate depiction.”
She shrugs dismissively as she rises off the bed. “The snow seems as if it’ll continue through tomorrow.”
Mr. Jackson slowly leads the way to the door. “So it seems.”
They look at each other for a long moment.
“If so, I’m certain William will want to finish the story,” she says.
Mr. Jackson doesn’t comment.
“Would you care to join us again?” she asks. “I’m certain William will inquire about—“
“I’d be delighted,” he replies. He smiles when one emerges on her face.
“Good.” She glances back at the boy and then to the man before her.
“Goodnight, Miss.”
When he gets a few feet away, she states, “It’s a good thing you’ve moved to the manor, Mr. Jackson. Having to make your way back to the old building in this weather could be treacherous.”
He turns to look at her. “I’d be fine. But, the fact that I don’t have to trudge through it is nice.”
Her hand dart to her hip. “Was that so horrible to admit?”
He doesn’t reply.
“It’s warmer here at the manor,” she adds.
“It’s okay.”
She moves quickly toward him. “Pardon?”
He chuckles. “It is warmer.”
She smiles proudly. “Goodnight, Mr. Jackson.”
He waits in the hallway until her door closes. “Goodnight,” he mumbles.
At some point in the middle of the night, Lady Moss is abruptly woken up by William crying out. She rushes out of her room and into his. “William, what’s the matter?”
“Abbie,” he says with a soft cry.
“It’s okay, dear,” she says soothingly. “It was just a dream.”
His head bobs against her shoulder as he starts to settle himself.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asks.
“No,” he groans.
“Alright,” she replies, rocking him, uncertain of what else to say or do.
“Where’s Mr. Jackson?”
“Down in his room,” she replies.
“Can I stay with him?”
Her head jerks back, surprised by his request. “We’d have to ask him. It isn’t my place to say.”
William clings to her as she rises.
Carefully, Lady Moss makes her way down to the lowest level. When she’s at the bottom of the steps, it takes her a moment to remember that the men’s quarters are on the right.
“Everything alright, Abigail?” Mrs. Doyle inquires suddenly.
Lady Moss turns with a fright. “Yes.” She glances back down the other hall before facing Mrs. Doyle once more. “Do…do you know which room is Mr. Jackson’s?”
She nods and points. “The last one down on the right. He prefers a view of the barn to keep an eye on it.”
“Thank you.”
“Would the boy like some milk?” she asks. “It usually helps.”
“William,” Lady Moss says in his ear. “Mrs. Doyle wants to know—“
“Yes,” he replies.
“Manners, William,” she reminds.
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Doyle,” Lady Moss says before heading down the hallway. Before she gets to knock on the door, it flings open.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. Jackson asks, looking past her down the hallway.
William reaches for the man, putting his arms around his neck faster than Mr. Jackson has a chance to react.
“He had a dream that woke him,” Lady Moss replies. She glances down at the floor. “He requested you.”
“What’s wrong, boy?” Mr. Jackson asks, entering his room.
Lady Moss perches herself in the doorway, not wanting to assume she may follow. She peers around at the three walls, noting how clean and simple he keeps it. His original pocket watch and the one that was Lord Quincy’s reside on the nightstand next to each other.
“Can I sleep with you?” William asks, tightening his grip on the man.
Mr. Jackson looks up at the woman. “If the Miss says it’s alright.”
“I told him it was up to you,” she replies.
“Here ya go,” Mrs. Doyle says, offering the glass of milk.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Doyle. Sorry to have woken you,” Lady Moss says.
“Nonsense,” the woman returns. “It comes with having children. Let me know if you need anything else.” She makes her way back to her room without another word.
“You’re certain you don’t mind?” Lady Moss asks.
He covers the boy and takes the few steps from the bed to the door. “No.”
She glances past his shoulder, watching on as William sips the milk.
“He’ll be fine,” Mr. Jackson assures.
Their eyes meet.
She offers a meek smile. “I know.”
Mr. Jackson raises his hand and grazes her cheek. “It has no reflection on you as his mother.”
She feels herself lean into the warmth of his fingers before they lower. “Right.”
“He loves you,” Mr. Jackson adds.
This brings a smile to her face. She looks past the man at the boy. “Mind your behavior with Mr. Jackson,” she informs.
William nods as he settles under the blankets.
“Let me know if you or he need anything,” Lady Moss requests.
Chapter Seventeen
As soon as the snow lets up, Lady Moss sends correspondence to the Barton Manor, inquiring about the boys having a chance to play with William. Lady Barton happily agrees, having enjoyed meeting Lady Moss at her ball and hopeful that they will get to know each other better.
“I’m glad you wrote,” Lady Barton declares. “The boys tire of each other sometimes.”
“Thank you for having us,” Lady Moss replies, taking a sip of her tea. “They are more than welcome to join William at our place any time.”
“You are most welcome,” she returns. “Do you mind me asking how you came about the boy?”
Lady Moss considers how to explain. “He’s an orphan.”
“From which side of your family?”
“None,” Lady Moss informs.
“Bless your heart,” Lady Barton praises. “Especially as a single woman.”
“Many women handle themselves quite well, even without a husband,” she reminds.
“Apologies, dear,” Lady Barton says. “I meant no—“
“It is alright,” Lady Moss reassures. “I know my situation is most uncommon.”
“Do you really own the estate yourself?”
Lady Moss smiles proudly and nods.
“Do you wish to marry again?”
She takes in a heavy breath, not minding the question though she’s had it presented by many people. Her left index finger slides over to her right ring finger. Lady Moss’ eyes lower when she realizes she hadn’t put on her wedding band. “If it is for love, yes.”
“Thankfully, you can afford to require such a thing. But, it will not be easy.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Moss asks.
“You are known better than you realize, my dear,” Lady Barton reveals. “Many know of a widowed woman who owns a grand estate. Many men who wish to marry you as women are suggested…to marry up.”
Lady Moss’ lips purse. “That is a challenge.”
“To know who loves you and is not just trying to get a hold of your money will be the—“
“It will not be a challenge,” Lady Moss shares with a snicker. “I’m am well versed in the ways of tricksters.”
Lady Barton doesn’t comment for a moment. “I didn’t mean—“
“It is alright,” Lady Moss assures. “I had the pleasure of seeing it first hand with a member of my family.”
Lady Barton studies her for a moment. “Your Aunt…the one from the ball?”
Lady Moss steadies herself before affirming, “Yes.”
“Bless your heart,” Lady Barton says with a nervous chuckle. “That woman….” She dares not continue her statement.
“You got all that from one night?” Lady Moss asks.
Lady Barton’s expression gives away her understanding. “I am not one to speak ill of people. I see more than I let on and keep my thoughts privy only to those who can be trusted.”
“I do believe we will become good friends, Lady Barton. Make sure I introduce you to my friend Mrs. Warren. She will be most agreeable to you as well.”
Lady Barton takes a sip of her tea to settle her nerves. “That would be lovely.”
“My Aunt practically tried to sell me off to the highest bidder,” Lady Moss shares. “Thankfully, my father allowed me to accept or refuse on my own volition.”
“How did you come to marry the late Lord Woolridge, then?”
Lady Moss snickers at the memory. “Many older men were received at the house that night. Luckily for me, the elder Mr. Woolridge had brought his son with him. My Aunt suspected my late husband would inherit much, but she didn’t know exactly how much. She was more inclined with whom the elder Mr. Woolridge knew. My husband wasn’t a Lord until he inherited the manor from his uncle, Lord Quincy.”
“They never bothered to visit the man,” Lady Barton states. “But, the man was a bit odd…especially after his wife died, God rest her soul.”
Lady Moss nods in agreement.
“Why did you marry Mr. Woolridge? Was he different than the rest?”
“He was the closest to my age,” she admits. “His father was pushing for him to marry another woman…someone he said was not agreeable to him. My Aunt did whisper in his ear, but he was the nicest and youngest of the suitors. Plus, we seemed to get along.”
“So the boy, William, will inherit your manor, then?”
Lady Moss nods. “Most indeed.”
“What if you marry and have children? Would you—“
“William is mine,” Lady Moss declares. “He is the first.”
Lady Barton nods, though she’s uncomfortable with what to say next.
“I do wish to marry,” Lady Moss admits, rubbing her thumb against the inside of her ring finger. She offers a weak smile. “Many have inquired about it…well, I should say insisted that I should.”
“It hasn’t been long since Lord Woolridge passed, has it?”
“No,” she confirms. “I do miss the pleasantries of a husband. Juggling the manor and the farm does take a lot out of me.”
“Having someone to rely on does help,” Lady Barton agrees.
“The workers do quite well,” Lady Moss agrees. “Mrs. Doyle is easy to speak with and I thoroughly enjoy conversing with Mr. Jackson.”
“The foreman?”
“Yes,” she confirms.
Mrs. Barton glances around the room and leans in not to be heard. “One would not blame you for seeking other…pleasantries from him or any of the single men—“
“Lady Barton, hold your tongue,” Lady Moss says with a giggle.
“I’m glad you are not offended.”
“Not at all,” she replies.
“So, you’ve considered it?”
“I have not,” Lady Moss declares. “I do miss the touch of a man, but I would not be so bold as to mingle in such a manner.”
“Too much of a scandal if it got out?”
Lady Moss considers the idea. “Even just the claim of it would stir Mr. Jackson.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, confused by the woman’s words.
“Mr. Jackson and I like to tease each other,” Lady Moss reveals. “That would most likely be too far of such a thing.”
“You’re a devious woman,” Lady Barton laughs.
“One must find ways to entertain oneself,” she says. “He’s an easy target. I’m certain his heart stopped once or twice when he caught me in trousers.”
“Trousers?” Lady Barton mumbles in surprise.
Lady Moss nods. “I don’t wear them often, but they are useful when I need to ride, helping with the farm, or when it’s just bloody cold outside.”
Mrs. Barton regards her for a long moment, eventually unable to hide a smile. “You will most certainly be a form of entertainment, Lady Moss.”
She bows. “I’m happy to oblige.”
As the weeks go by, when William isn’t learning or assisting with the farm, he’s playing with the Barton boys at either manor. Lady Moss is happy to see the boys getting along so well and how William’s adjustment has been easy. Unfortunately, the boy does continue to have dreams that wake him in the middle of the night on occasion. Typically, it’s three to four times a week. Lady Moss is uncertain how to aid the boy other than to take him to Mr. Jackson’s room when he requests it. He’s begun to alter staying with her some of the nights, but he still seeks out Mr. Jackson.
“Everything alright, Miss?” Mr. Jackson asks, entering the study.
“Fine.”
He suspects something is bothering her but doesn’t push the issue.
“Good news, Mr. Jackson,” she says, looking up at him.
“What is that?”
She offers an apologetic smile. “We are to visit my family. The weather has been good and it is time for William to meet everyone.”
“We?”
“You will join us as well,” she informs.
“I’ve got work to do.”
“We’ve hired more staff,” Lady Moss reminds. “Mr. Joel and Mr. Martin are more than capable to oversee everyone.”
“Why am I attending?”
He doesn’t mind, in fact, he rather enjoys the time away. Mr. Jackson has worked since the day he arrived at the manor and appreciates the reprieve. He’s managing more and doing less physical labor. Plus, he’s fond of the time with Lady Moss, William, and her family.
“You do not wish to see my family?” She raises a challenging brow with a hand on her hip.
“I didn’t say that.”
“William wants you to come,” she adds.
“And, you?”
She controls her expression. “We seem to get along well more when we travel, do we not?”
His head bobs side to side.
“Do not tease me, Mr. Jackson.”
“I’d never dare,” he chuckles.
“There’s one caveat,” she regrettably informs.
“Which is?” he asks when she doesn’t expound.
“We are to visit my Aunt and Uncle.” She winces.
“You mean your Uncle, right?”
“More than likely just my Uncle,” she affirms.
He grunts in reply.
“How has William been with working on the farm? He’s been helpful and not a burden, I hope?”
