Moss Manor, page 18
“You cannot expect me to know after meeting four men, one of which was Mr. Edmund Pickens’ father, for the first time, and one man I have only met once, can you?”
He grunts. “I would hope not.”
“Do not test me, Mr. Jackson. I had plenty of that with my Aunt tonight.”
They pull up to the manor. Mr. Jackson jumps down and walks to her side of the cart. He takes the boy into his arms. “I didn’t mean to,” he says with half-truth. “I am sorry.”
“I appreciate your concern,” she informs, stepping down with the offer of his hand. “I am not the least bit interested in marriage. I meant what I said that I am even less so if they are someone my Aunt wishes for me to marry.”
He nods, though he’s slightly disappointed. “Shall I carry the boy up?”
“Thank you, but I'll take him,” she replies, reaching for him.
He regrettably relinquishes the boy. “Goodnight, Miss.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Jackson,” she says, sensing a bit of contention in the man as he climbs back onto the cart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Run, Mr. Jackson!” William shouts as he laughs, rushing into the barn. “Hide.”
“What are you on about?”
“The Pirate Queen,” he says, hiding behind Mr. Jackson. “She seeks revenge.”
“Why is that?” he replies.
“Come on,” William says, tugging on his arm. “We need to run. She will cut our throats if she catches us.”
“Why would she cut my throat?” Mr. Jackson returns, slowing the boy down as he makes his way to the opposite end of the building. “I’ve done nothing to—“
“Got ya, ye filthy thief,” Lady Moss says, catching William from behind. “Ye thinks ye can steal me treasure, eh?”
“Mr. Jackson!” William barely utters as he laughs and tries to get away. “Help me!”
“Mr. Jackson? There be no thing such as a Mr. Jackson in these seas,” Lady Moss replies.
Mr. Jackson’s head sways. “You know the price for thievery…especially if it is by a Pirate Prince from the Pirate Queen.”
William wiggles, but Lady Moss keeps a firm hold of him. “Ten lashings,” she decrees.
“No!” William shouts.
“One,” she says, kissing his cheek. “Two. Three. Four….” She continues to plant a kiss on his face after each number. When she’s finished, William is released.
“Ew,” William whines with a giggle as he rubs at his face.
“One day, you will like it when a girl kisses you,” Lady Moss says. “In fact, you will be the one chasing the girl, vying to kiss her.”
“Will not,” William objects. “Tell her, Mr. Jackson.”
He chuckles. “Sadly, she is telling the truth.”
“You will marry your own Pirate Princess and you will both be the rulers of the sea and land,” Lady Moss states.
“No,” William decrees more sternly. “I will be a good king.”
“A good one, eh?” she snickers. Lady Moss darts for him, but the boy runs. She lets him think he’s gotten away, needing to catch her breath.
“You alright, Miss?”
“Quite fine, thank you,” she replies, brushing off her dress. “I just hope that the Barton boys feel better soon.”
“You’ve got something in—“
“Hm?”
“Hold still,” he directs.
“I am not a child, Mr. Jackson.”
“You are as bad as that boy,” he counters, taking a hold of her arm. “There.” He reveals the piece of hay that was in her hair.
“I should have worn my trousers to play,” she states. “It would make chasing after him much easier.”
“You and those silly trousers.”
“They aren’t silly,” she refutes. “You wear trousers.”
“Men are supposed to wear trousers.”
“Not in every country,” she returns smugly. “There are some were mean were nothing of the sort. In fact—“
“I’m surprised William hasn’t gotten sick yet,” Mr. Jackson says, changing the subject.
“Don’t dare speak it into existence,” she warns.
A comfortable silence falls upon them as they head out of the barn.
“He went around the back of the house,” Mr. Martin informs.
“Thank you,” she replies.
“Heard something about kissing girls,” Mr. Martin chuckles.
They continue after William at a casual pace.
“Care to join us for lunch, Mr. Jackson?”
“If you wish?”
“It is not a matter of what I wish, Mr. Jackson. It is a matter if you wish to join us.”
He regards her for a moment. “I know that William would wish it.”
She nods.
He takes a gentle hold of her arm, stopping her for a second. They stare at each other and she waits patiently for him to speak.
“I…I would like that very much,” he says.
“Good,” she sighs. “Come along then.” She steps forward, leading the way toward the closest door.
Once they’ve both entered, William jumps out from behind a curtain.
Lady Moss lets out a yelp, jumping back into Mr. Jackson. She quickly calms and chases after the boy. “Get back here ye devious, Pirate Prince!”
“Ah!” William cries out, rushing away as his laughter returns, echoing off the walls along with his footsteps.
She chases him through part of the house, darting around furniture and in and out of rooms along the way. “I will make ye walk the plank!”
Suddenly, William runs right into Mr. Jackson who is blocking his exit. “Mr. Jackson!” he calls as he’s blocked from getting past.
“Ha!” Lady Moss shouts. “He’s a demon squid and he has captured ye. Now ye will see ye doom.”
“No!” William shouts as Mr. Jackson lifts the boy by his upper arms. His legs kick as he’s stretched above Mr. Jackson’s head. “Mr. Jackson! No!”
“He is not ye Mr. Jackson!” she cackles. “He is the great Lord Squid of the seas.”
“Lord?” Mr. Jackson questions, breaking character.
“Don’t eat me!” William pleas.
Mr. Jackson lowers the boy slightly, pressing his face into the boy’s neck. William cries out in laughter. He makes the boy squirm for about a minute before lowering him.
“Time to wash up from your adventure,” Lady Moss declares.
“No,” William whines playfully.
“Fine,” she huffs. “I’ll eat lunch alone.”
“Is Mr. Jackson joining us?”
“He must wash up as well,” she informs.
Mr. Jackson grumbles his disapproval. “Come on, Pirate Prince. Time to wash ye hands.”
“And face,” Lady Moss instructs though they’re already out of the room. “It is filthy.”
Once lunch commences, William informs Mr. Jackson of the adventure he and Lady Moss were having before running into him outside.
“Perhaps we should work on your penmanship after lunch and send letters to the Barton boys, telling them of the grand journey that has only just begun and how you are waiting for them the join you out on the seas?” Lady Moss suggests.
William nods emphatically as he takes a large bite.
“Are we entertaining today, Mr. Jackson?”
“The two of you are always entertaining,” he chuckles. “Why?”
“Usually you seem unimpressed and always checking your watch for the time,” she goads with a smirk.
He shrugs. “I’m always impressed by you and the boy.”
Her brow lifts in surprise. “I can understand how William impresses you. He impresses me every day. But, if I am impressing you, you must be feeling ill, Mr. Jackson. Should I send you off to bed and fetch the doctor at once?”
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m sure I must insist,” she adds. “It is one of the very things you would detest.”
“Why?” William asks.
“Mr. Jackson cannot fathom sitting or standing still for too long,” she shares. “He always keeps himself busy.” She pauses for a second. “He is much like you, William…always moving.”
Mr. Jackson grunts. “I can sit still when I need to. I’m doing it now, aren’t I?”
Lady Moss considers his statement.
“Miss,” Iris says, rushing frantically into the dining room. “Miss. Baron Hasworthy is here. He—”
“Lady Moss,” the Baron greets with a bow, surprising Iris.
Iris curtsies nervously before exiting the room.
Lady Moss stands abruptly and curtsies. “Baron Hasworthy.”
“My apologies for interrupting.” He fidgets with his gloves. “I only need a few minutes of your time. I’m more than happy to wait—“
“Our lunch has concluded,” she states. “We were just conversing.”
He glances at the boy and smiles. “Hello, William. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Lady Moss nudges William in the arm.
The boy looks up at her for a brief second before bowing. “Hello.”
Their visitor returns the gesture. “I have heard so much about you from your mother. It was disappointing that you were unable to join us for dinner.” The Baron glances at Mr. Jackson. “It is a pleasure to meet you….” He offers his hand.
“Mr. Jackson,” he replies.
“Ah, yes. Lady Moss’ foreman. I heard a little about you, but from what I’ve heard of William, I’d say you’re a fine man.”
“Thank you, Baron,” Mr. Jackson replies with a slight bow.
“We can head to my study or parlor,” Lady Moss offers.
“Either is fine,” the Baron returns.
“Excuses me, William. Mr. Jackson.” She leads the way and the Baron is quick to follow.
“What is he doing here, Mr. Jackson?” William asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies.
“Do you think the Baron is here to propose?” Britney asks Minerva as they walk through the hallway.
“Can you imagine Lady Moss marrying a Baron?” Minerva replies.
“Why would he propose to Abbie?” William inquires to Mr. Jackson.
“Come boy,” he instructs.
William follows after Lady Moss and the Baron. “No. I want to—“
“Come,” he repeats, snatching the boy by his arm.
“No.”
Mr. Jackson scoops him up, carrying him outside. “Time to get back to work.”
“I don’t want to work,” William declares. “I want to be with Abbie.”
“She’s indisposed at the moment,” Mr. Jackson reminds. “Mind your manners.”
William wiggles, vying to break free as he requests repeatedly to be put down. Mr. Jackson carries the boy to the barn and puts him on top of a pile of hay.
The boy fights to get up several times, only to be held back. “Why are you being mean?”
“This is a time when you need to learn that you must do as you are told,” Mr. Jackson declares.
“Why?”
Mr. Jackson doesn’t answer as William tries to dart around him only to be blocked.
“Why are you mad?” William inquiries, finally able to break free.
“I ain’t.”
“You’re mad and you’re being mean,” William challenges. “I don’t like you when you’re like this.” He runs off away from the barn and house.
Mr. Jackson grumbles to himself as he puts a tool back. He slowly heads in the direction the boy ran, knowing it won’t be hard to find him. About five minutes later, he finds William on a branch of one of his favorite trees to climb.
“There are many things about adult matters that you just won’t comprehend until you are older,” Mr. Jackson states.
“How am I to comprehend if you won’t tell me?”
He lets out a sigh. “You’ve got a point.” He looks up at the boy. “Move over.”
William does as he is told, making room for Mr. Jackson to sit with him.
“Why would Abbie marry the Baron?”
“Who says that she will, huh?”
William looks down at the ground. “The girls said—“
“They were speculating,” Mr. Jackson says. “You know what happens when people speculate. If you’re so concerned, you should ask Lady Moss.”
“I will,” he says confidently.
They’re quiet for a bit.
“Is she supposed to marry?”
“Women are expected to be,” Mr. Jackson replies.
“She was married once,” William reminds.
Mr. Jackson nods. “It is not customary for a woman to inherit an estate.”
“Why?”
“Men are the ones who are said to, which is why women marry…among other things.”
“Then, why did Abbie inherit the manor?” William asks.
Mr. Jackson lets out a sigh. “Because she was the only heir left in Lord Quincy’s line.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Lord Quincy didn’t have any living children,” Mr. Jackson reveals. “He had two sons. One died young from illness.”
“The other?”
“Died while traveling in another country,” Mr. Jackson answers. “If he were to die, his brother, Lady Moss’ father-in-law would inherit the manor. He died not long after Lady Moss married his son.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died as well,” Mr. Jackson states.
“That’s a lot of death,” the boy says on a heavy breath out.
Mr. Jackson nods.
“There was no one else to inherit it?”
“No,” Mr. Jackson replies. “No other males, not an old man nor a young boy. Lady Moss was the last known relative through marriage.”
The boy’s dangling legs sway back and forth. “Who is to inherit the manor if something happens to Abbie?”
Mr. Jackson glances at him. “You.”
“Why?”
“Because you are her son.”
William looks at him in confusion. “But, I’m not her son.”
“To her you are,” he replies.
William smiles. “She is good to me.”
Mr. Jackson nods. “She’s good to many…many who do not deserve her kindness.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lady Moss has a good heart,” Mr. Jackson says. “She is more than kind. She is….”
William smiles, filling in his thoughts to finish the statement when Mr. Jackson doesn’t continue.
“You may not have her blood, but to her, you are just as much her son as if you had it.” He looks back at the manor over his shoulder for a second. “Love.”
“Love?”
Mr. Jackson nods. “She loves you. That is more powerful than the blood in our bodies.”
“How can you love someone who does not share the same blood?”
Mr. Jackson chuckles. “You love the dogs, the cats, the pigs, the horses, and all of the other animals here on the farm. I see it by how you treat them, but you do not have their blood.”
William contemplates what’s being revealed. “What if she is to marry again?”
“What of it?”
“What if she has children with her new husband?” William inquires nervously.
“Do you think she will stop loving you?”
William is quiet.
“Do you think she will dispose of you?”
William does not reply.
Mr. Jackson jumps down and faces the boy whose chest is at his head level. “You listen to me. Lady Moss loves you. She will not dispose of you, William. I promise.”
“How do you know?”
He touches the boy’s cheek. “She would dispose of the husband.”
“Are you certain?”
“With my life,” Mr. Jackson affirms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Miss,” Mrs. Doyle calls. “There is a Mr. Alcott here to see you. Shall I send him in?”
Lady Moss considers her options. “No. I’ll meet him in the drawing room.”
“As you wish.”
Lady Moss makes the man wait at least ten minutes before she leaves her study.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Alcott,” she greets.
“Good afternoon,” he replies, with a bow. “It is lovely to see you again.”
“How may I—“
“I am most apologetic for not sending correspondence of my visit,” he claims. “My trip to the country was last second and I had almost forgotten you lived nearby until the Stevens mentioned it when you came up in conversation.”
“How would I come up in conversation with the Stevens?” she inquires.
“When they mentioned the manor,” he claims. “They said that they had missed your ball because they’ve been out of town until recently.”
Lady Moss considers the man. “I’ll be sure to send them a letter then. Where are you staying?”
“With them for now,” he says. “Mr. Stevens is a client.”
“How wonderful?”
“Am I intruding? It is the last thing I wish to—“
“Not at all, Mr. Alcott,” she replies, though suspicious of his visit only a few days after Baron Hasworthy’s. “Do you or the Stevens have plans this evening?”
“Just dinner at their home,” he replies. “May I ask why?”
“I shall write them a letter, inviting them and you to dinner tonight,” she informs.
“We can schedule it for another day,” He offers. “I’m here for at least a week.”
“That’s a long time, and we are at such a far distance from the sea, are we not?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” she says. “My apologies. I thought that all merchants dare not be far from the water.”
“I may own a fleet, Lady Moss, but I do not travel,” he admits. “Not unless I find it most agreeable…the destination that is.”
She nods. “Would you like to see the manor?”
“Most indeed,” he says. “If it is not an imposition?”
“Not at all. William can resume his scheduled studies later.”
“I do not wish to take the boy from his—“
“Nonsense,” Lady Moss says. “Every child at his age would appreciate a reason that would steal them away from their studies.”
