Moss Manor, page 17
“You trust him with a man who is not your family?” Mrs. Jenning balks.
“Children take to people differently,” Lady Moss explains. “And, yes. I’d prefer William be with those he feels most comfortable.”
“If you are his new mother, he should be seeking you out,” she refutes.
“William is a boy, dear Aunt. I do not wish to constrain him nor his love for people who he is fond of.”
“Can I go with Mr. Jackson?” William asks, uncomfortable with the situation.
Lady Moss smiles at him lovingly. “I’ll take you to him.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Jenning says. “One of the servants can show him.”
Lady Moss lifts her chin. “As his mother, I will take him.” She leaves the room without another word, not acknowledging her Aunt who continues to speak as she walks away nor the guests who have been watching on.
“I didn’t mean to make Great Aunt unhappy,” William says when they reach the stairway that leads down to the kitchen.
“Everything makes Great Aunt unhappy,” Lady Moss informs. “Besides, you did nothing wrong.”
“Will you be alright without me?”
“Yes,” she replies with a giggle. “I have long weathered my Aunt.”
“I’d much rather you stay here with Mr. Jackson and me.”
She looks down at the boy. “I would much rather stay with you and Mr. Jackson as well.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Remember,” she says, kneeling to his level. “This is Great Uncle’s castle. Even if I do not agree with the queen, I must follow their rules.”
“Even if they’re mean rules?”
Her head tilts to the side. “Even if they are rules that I don’t agree with.”
“Why would they be allowed to get away with mean rules?”
She shrugs. “In many aspects of kingdoms that are not your own, you choose your battles. It isn’t worth the time to fight when all it does is make everyone mad and upset and everyone is further from finding an agreement that suits all.”
William nods as he lowers his head. “What of the Count who was wrongly imprisoned?”
“That was a battle worth fighting…one’s life was in danger from a vile person who wished him harm. There is a fine line in comprehending how and when to fight. Fighting does not always involve your fists.”
“Everything okay, Lady Moss?” one of the kitchen girls inquires. “Are you lost?”
“No,” she says, rising. “William will be dining with Mr. Jackson tonight.”
“I can take him, if you’d like,” the girl offers.
William’s hand tightens around Lady Moss’. “I want Abbie to take me.”
The girl smiles and curtsies. “Follow me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You know Mr. Pickens and his son Edmund, don’t you?” Mr. Jenning asks when Lady Moss returns.
She smiles and curtsies. “Yes. Good evening, Mr. Pickens.” Turning her attention to his son, she says, “Edmund. It has been some time since we’ve last seen each other.”
“It has been,” Mr. Pickens states. “You are just as lovely as ever.”
“And you are just as sweet as I remember,” she returns.
He bows in reply.
“You haven’t met Baron Oliver Hasworthy,” Mrs. Jenning announces. “He is handsome, is he not?”
“He is quite handsome,” Lady Moss agrees, curtseying. “Though I do not judge a person solely on their appearance. It is a pleasure to meet you, Baron.”
Baron Hasworthy grins when he kisses her hand. “It is a pleasure, Lady Moss.”
“Your father has played a role in the construction of the train, has he not?” she inquires.
“Yes,” the Baron returns with a bow. “Though, father was not the only one.”
“It is a magnificent contraption,” Lady Moss praises. “Ingenious, I’d say.”
“I’ll be sure to share your esteem with him,” he replies. “Have you had the pleasure of riding it?”
“Many times,” Lady Moss confirms. “It is quite useful when one must travel long distances. I’m sure the next means of travel will be that similar to birds.”
Mrs. Jenning giggles boisterously. “My niece has such an odd imagination, does she not?”
The men smile and nod, but do not add their comments to enhance the woman’s slight insult.
“Who is the boy, Lady Moss?” Mr. Pickens inquires.
“He’s my—“
“Pardon, Mr. and Mrs. Jenning, Baron Hasworthy, Lady Moss, and Mr. and Mr. Pickens,” Thomas says, entering the room.
Everyone turns.
“Mr. Frederick Alcott has arrived,” Thomas reveals.
A few moments later, Mr. Alcott enters. “Good evening, everyone.” He spots Lady Moss. “Lady Moss!” He moves hastily toward her. “It feels as if it has been too long.” He bows and kisses her hand. “How have you been? You look just as lovely as always?”
“Good. Thank you,” she replies.
“Wonderful,” he replies. He moves toward his hosts. “Mrs. Jenning…Mr. Jenning.” He turns and faces the other men. “Ah, Baron Hasworthy, it is a pleasure for you to join us. It is equally a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Pleasure,” the Baron replies, shaking Mr. Alcott’s hand.
“Mr. Pickens,” he greets then faces his son. “Edmund.” Once he’s finished, he happily takes a drink that is offered by one of the workers and asks, “What have I missed?”
“Lady Moss was about to reveal something,” the Baron informs.
“The boy,” Mr. Pickens states. “Who is that young boy with you?”
“He is my son,” Lady Moss informs.
Mr. Alcott almost chokes and spits out his drink, but recovers well. “What boy?”
“The boy who is here with her,” Edmund explains.
Mr. Alcott looks around the room. “I do not see a boy.”
“Perhaps, you’ll meet him later,” Lady Moss informs.
“How is it you came by the boy?” the Baron asks. “Clearly, you are too young to have a child of his age.”
“The boy is not the late Mr. Woolridge’s and mine,” she shares. “George and I were only married for two years.”
“My niece adopted the boy,” Mr. Jenning announces proudly. “We are much pleased to have another boy in the family.”
“When did you acquire the boy?” Mr. Pickens asks.
“Just before Christmas,” Lady Moss says. “William and I…well….” She smiles at the memory. “We bumped into each other.”
“Almost tossed you in the mud, isn’t that right?” Mr. Jenning asks with a chuckle.
“Thankfully, Mr. Jackson saved me from such a thing,” Lady Moss praises. “The man was quick to aid me and then hunted down the boy once I was righted.”
“What of his parents?” Mr. Alcott inquires.
“The boy had been on the streets for some time,” Lady Moss explains. “He was running away from Mr. Wallace who had caught him stealing bread.”
“You brought a thief into your home?” Mrs. Jenning asks with distaste.
“He is a boy,” Lady Moss reminds. “And, he was a starving boy. He knows not to steal and that there is no need of it now.”
“A most commendable act, indeed,” declares Baron Hasworthy.
Lady Moss smiles, appreciative of his sincere words.
“William said that the baker wanted one of his fingers,” Mr. Jenning says amusingly.
“He did,” Lady Moss giggles. “Once I paid him for the bread, there wasn’t another mention of it.”
Everyone stares in amazement and shock. The Baron’s shock is more in eager anticipation for more of the story.
“Dinner is ready,” Thomas announces. He leads the way into the dining room.
Baron Hasworthy offers Lady Moss a hand and she gladly takes it before Mr. Alcott gets the chance. She knows the intention of tonight’s dinner and plans on playing her part despite lacking the desire to marry any of the men before her.
The men converse the majority of the time though Lady Moss interjects her thoughts on occasion. Her Aunt offers a glare though she ignores it.
“How is the printing business, Mr. Pickens?” Lady Moss inquires.
“Quite well, thank you,” he replies. “Edmund has done a fantastic job expanding our work to novelists rather than just the daily papers and flyers.”
“How wonderful?” she praises. “And, you Mr. Alcott?”
“The new fleet is doing exceptionally well,” he boasts. “We’ve been importing a lot more from India. The Stevens, your neighbours, I have to thank for it.”
She smiles and nods. “And for the locomotive industry, Baron? I do expect much is happening there since it has been expanded in many countries?”
“Yes,” the Baron replies. “There are some challenges around it, yet—“
“It’s an adventure, is it not?” Lady Moss states more than questions. “What fun is it that everything goes as we expect or plan?”
The Baron nods. “It would make life a bit boring, wouldn’t it?”
“Precisely,” she says.
“You are quite right, my dear,” Mr. Jenning agrees.
“Despite knowing that it would be required of me to one day marry and have children, I did not expect to lose a husband, inherit a grand estate, and adopt a child while I’m husband-less,” she muses, pushing boundaries. “Most would prefer a much different way of things unfolding, but I am quite happy with my life.”
“You are happy your husband is deceased?” her Aunt inquires coldly.
“Not at all,” she replies. “I dare not wish a thing on anyone. Death is the end of enjoying what life has given us here. I am merely being grateful for what I have been given. That is why I took on William. I have so much, why not give to a child above anyone else?”
“It is most noble of you, Lady Moss,” the Baron praises.
“I agree,” Mr. Alcott adds.
“There is much of life that is not appreciated. You have reminded me of such and I thank you, Lady Moss,” the Baron continues.
“Thank you, Baron,” she returns. “Having William at the manor has been beyond what I could have ever imagined. I have learnt so much.”
“What could a child teach you or anyone?” Mrs. Jenning asks.
“Plenty, my dearest Aunt,” Lady Moss replies. “Pure love, joy, patience, understanding, compassion, just to name a few.”
“You can learn that from adults, can you not?” Mr. Alcott inquires.
“You can,” Lady Moss agrees. “You can also learn it from a book. But, a child’s innocence has a far greater power of purity. Men could learn much from a child as well.”
“How say you?” Mr. Jenning inquires.
Mrs. Jenning watches on, unimpressed by the topic, and is contemplating where to direct it next.
“Take the train, for example,” Lady Moss declares. “It takes one with an open mind, a dreamer of sorts, to think of such an object…all of its moving parts to function as they do. It was just this past week watching my son and nephews playing that I saw their unrelenting ingenuity.”
“How so?” Mr. Jenning inquires, encouraging her to continue.
“The boys used sticks and mud to build a grand kingdom,” she explains. “They created structures that one would think would not hold upright. They constructed a whole new world, and when something didn’t work, they didn’t give up. They worked together effortlessly to find a solution…something we adults give up on too easily and dare I say frequently."
“Our poets and writers are much like that,” Edmund states. “Their ideas turn into glorious stories we happily read.”
“They are the fortunate ones, I think,” Lady Moss commends. “To think that the child they once were still speaks to them is something that is most intriguing.”
“I do say, Abbie,” Mr. Jenning says with a smile. “What a wonderful idea and perspective? It makes me want to more carefully observe the grandchildren and William when they’re around.”
“One cannot keep their head in the clouds all day,” Mrs. Jenning states. “One must pay the bills and tend to what needs tending.”
“Is that not what servants are for?” Mr. Alcott asks.
“If one is so lucky to have workers tending to such things,” Lady Moss replies, unimpressed with his question.
“She has a point,” the Baron agrees. “If the servants are busy taking care of so much for us, which affords us this ability to dream and think like children, why are we not immersing ourselves in that state of thinking?”
“Better yet,” Lady Moss adds. “If the workers are busy tending to things for us, are they not afforded such joyous moments of life?”
“That is their job, dearest niece,” Mrs. Jenning declares.
Lady Moss regards her for a moment. “It could have been your, my, Uncle’s position…even the Baron’s, had we not been afforded to be born into the proper family, could it not?”
“Nonsense,” her Aunt replies dismissively with a wave of her hand.
Desert is brought out before anyone can comment further.
The Baron leans to his left, close to Lady Moss’ ear and whispers, “I’d say your Aunt does not see the value in the time she is afforded.”
“It seems so, does it not?” Lady Moss giggles.
“Do not mock her,” the Baron chides gently. “For she does not know what joy she could possess.”
“I do not wish to mock her,” she replies. “Do not mistake me. Though my Aunt and I barely tolerate each other, I do pity her.”
“All we can wish is for them to find their happiness as we have found it,” he states.
“Sadly, I think she finds happiness in the pain and sorrow.”
“I’d have to agree with you on that.”
They sit upright, thanking the servers for the food as it is placed before them.
The night continues and the conversations are mostly held between the men until they retire to the parlor and Mrs. Jenning and Ms. Moss venture to the drawing room.
“The Baron is most agreeable,” Mrs. Jenning states.
“Mm-hm,” Lady Moss agrees. Her Aunt continues speaking, but she pays no attention as her thoughts turn toward William.
“Abigail!”
“What?” she asks. When she finds her Aunt standing, she rises as well.
“It disheartens me that I must leave,” the Baron informs. “It was a pleasure dining with you ladies this evening.”
Lady Moss curtsies. “We must do it again, Baron. You are welcome anytime at the manor.”
He smiles. “I will write.”
“That would be lovely,” she replies.
Once they’re alone again, they sit in silence. Lady Moss glances out the window, wishing there was a book to pass the time. As the night continues, and her Aunt disappears for a few moments, Lady Moss sneaks in search of William.
When she reaches the bottom of the steps, she’s met with the majority of the house staff, Mr. Jackson, and William playing cards. She smiles, enjoying the stolen moment before anyone sees her.
With her hands on her hips, she declares, “You better not be teaching him how to cheat, Mr. Jackson.”
“Abbie!” William shouts, rushing toward her.
“Just how to keep up a wicked tongue to match yours,” Mr. Jackson declares.
The staffs’ expressions alter into that of worry.
“Your tongue is much more wicked than mine, Mr. Jackson.”
“How was dinner?” William asks.
“The food was delicious,” Lady Moss praises.
Several staff members smile, appreciative of the compliment.
“No,” William chuckles. “I mean with the king and queen and their royal guests.”
She kisses his head. “Tolerable…though the king is always gracious whenever I visit.”
“King?” Mr. Jackson inquires.
“I’ll explain on our way home.”
“We’re going home now?” William asks with a widening grin.
“Yes, my dear.”
“Yay!” William cheers, hopping around the kitchen.
The ride home is a joyful one. Lady Moss is excited to return to the manor, as is Mr. Jackson, and William continues to bounce around the train, too excited to sleep.
“Why don’t you show Mr. Jackson what Great Uncle taught you with your watch?” Lady Moss suggests.
“Oh, yeah,” William replies. He settles onto Mr. Jackson’s lap.
As the boy explains, Lady Moss can’t help but smile at the man and boy before her. Several times Mr. Jackson looks up and catches her watching on. He smiles in reply before returning his attention to the boy, correcting him when needed and praising him for all that he remembers.
By the time they reach the bend of the road that leads to the manor, William has fallen asleep with his head on Lady Moss’s lap and his legs across Mr. Jackson’s.
“I was surprised when you brought the boy down for dinner,” Mr. Jackson says.
“I had expected my Aunt to do as she did,” Lady Moss returns.
“He was well behaved.”
She grins. “I’m certain he was.”
“He missed you, though,” Mr. Jackson reveals. “It was his first meal without you since…you know.”
“I missed him as well,” she sighs. “Yet, he would have been bored. Inasmuch, my Aunt does not realize that, even though she meant it as a slight, she did more good than harm to the boy and me.”
“I’m sorry—“
“Don’t be, Mr. Jackson,” she says, placing her hand upon his arm. “I am most grateful that he was comfortable with you. And, I am even more grateful that he has taken to a fine man as yourself and that you are tolerant of him.”
“You know that I am more than tolerant of him,” he challenges.
Her smile widens. “I know and that is something that I am forever in your debt.”
He wishes to say something but falters. His gaze shifts away. “And, of your suitors?”
She giggles. “What of them?”
“Did you find one that may be a good father for William?”
She considers how to reply, not wanting to offend him or give away anything as well. “No.”
His eyes shift to meet hers just before they return to the road as they make the turn into the front of the manor.
