Moss Manor, page 20
“But, you have your own property, Lady Moss,” Mr. Alcott reminds.
“By default,” she states. “There were no other heirs in Lord Quincy’s line…no males and certainly no females other than myself.” She leans over to Mrs. Stevens. “I have a very good lawyer. Perhaps you’ve heard of him, Mr. Charles Warren?”
“Is he son of Mr. Simeon Warren?” inquires Mr. Stevens.
“Indeed,” Lady Moss confirms. “They live in the city, though I’ve been hoping they may move to the country. I do miss my dear friend Elizabeth, his wife, who is with child.”
“When is she due?” Mrs. Stevens asks.
“In a few months, I believe.”
“How wonderful!” Mrs. Stevens returns. “I’ll be sure to visit the next time we’re in the city.”
“What do you plan for the estate, then, Lady Moss?” Mr. Stevens inquires.
“What do you mean?”
“Is William set to inherit it if—“
“Precisely,” Lay Moss confirms. “I already have the will written and signed.”
“What if he is still too young to take over such matters?” Mr. Stevens inquires. “A boy needs a man to aid him.”
“You’re quite right,” insists Mr. Alcott.
“He’ll have Mr. Jackson,” she announces. “The estate is written that he would see to everything until William becomes of age.”
“What if I want to be a pirate and sail the seas?” William inquires.
Lady Moss chuckles. “You can own the manor and still be a pirate, dear.”
“Promise? he inquires.
“Most definitely,” she affirms.
“That’s ridiculous,” Mr. Alcott quips.
“How so?” Lady Moss asks.
Mr. Jackson bites back a snicker.
“Why would a foreman gain control over—“
Lady Moss offers a heated glare which causes Mr. Alcott to stop speaking. “Why does what I chose to do with my estate matter to you, Mr. Alcott?”
His mouth opens to speak, but he fumbles with words. “My, apologies, Lady Moss. I just—”
“Who would be better suited than Mr. Jackson?” Lady Moss asks. “He is the most knowledgeable of the farm and has handled it wonderfully since he became foreman.”
“A man with business sense would aid the estate—“
“What makes you think that Mr. Jackson does not have any?” Lady Moss challenges, biting back her distaste for Mr. Alcott. “Despite our initial…predicament, Mr. Jackson has happily accepted my business ideas and he has offered many of his own which the staff has implemented so well that the estate is already profiting more than it had with the late Lord Quincy. Do tell me how my foreman lacks the capacity to do his job?”
“Men are too used to dictating the things of a home,” Mrs. Stevens says with a sigh, leaning toward Lady Moss. She turns her attention to the man sitting across from her. “You have much to learn about marriage, Mr. Alcott.”
“He has much to learn about respecting the Lady of the manor,” William states.
The adults look at the boy in shock.
“What?” William asks, confused by their expressions. He offers a timid smile when he catches Mr. Jackson smirking.
Lady Moss smiles and nods her approval. “It seems as if Mr. Alcott has forgotten the simplest of manners when he is in another kingdom, hasn’t he, William?”
William’s grin grows as he nods.
“Kingdom?” Mr. Stevens asks.
“William is merely ten and—“
“Soon to be eleven,” the boy reminds.
She touches his cheek. “Soon to be eleven…and is just starting to learn the depths of how society works. I thought the best way to teach him was to explain that everyone with a home is their kingdom making you, Mr. Stevens, the king of Stevens Manor, and Mrs. Stevens a queen.”
“I like the sound of that,” Mrs. Stevens says with a grin. “You hear that, Mr. Stevens. I am the queen.”
“Your children are the prince and princess and your guests, like any good guest, understand that when they are visiting a neighbouring kingdom that they show the utmost respect and adhere to such rules governed by the king and queen.”
“What would Mr. Jackson be?” Mr. Stevens asks.
“He is a grand advisor to the queen as well as a knight who has sworn to protect her land and her prince,” she shares.
Mr. Stevens looks at Mr. Jackson. “Is that so?”
Mr. Jackson shrugs. “Beats being the demon squid on most occasions.”
“A what?” Mr. Stevens asks with a nervous chuckle.
“The Pirate Queen’s demon squid,” William informs.
“Who is the Pirate Queen?” Mr. Steven asks despite guessing the answer.
“Abbie,” the boy answers.
“I do long for the day when we are battling kingdoms,” Lady Moss states. “I much prefer land.”
“I as well,” Mr. Jackson chuckles.
“I fear you might not,” she muses. “You would be forced to choose sides for which army you would lead.”
“Mine of course,” William boasts.
“What makes you think he’d side with you?” Lady Moss challenges playfully.
William shrugs as he contemplates a reason.
“Don’t put me in the middle,” Mr. Jackson whines.
“You’re already in the middle,” Lady Moss returns.
He grumbles his displeasure.
“Oh, come now, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Stevens says. “If I were you, I’d be more than happy to be in the middle if I had a boy such as William and a beautiful woman such as Lady Moss.”
“I would,” Mr. Alcott announces.
Everyone stares at him for a moment.
“Though many men would not admit it, I will be the first and say I enjoy a good head-strong woman,” Mr. Stevens declares with a smile and a wink at his wife. “The company of men is tiresome after a while, and a wife who understands many things, and isn’t afraid to share it with you, is worth her weight in gold when she’s the only one who will tell you the truth.”
“Thank goodness for Mrs. Stevens,” Lady Moss declares, raising her glass as a toast.
The group follows her gesture. “Mrs. Stevens,” the lot of them repeat.
Mrs. Stevens redirects the conversation effortlessly, allowing the night to continue with ease. Mr. Stevens adds to the pleasing topics as Mr. Alcott carefully works his way back into better graces with everyone. Later in the evening, after William has fallen asleep on the couch with his head on Lady Moss’ lap, her guests relinquish her attention. She starts to get up, but Mrs. Stevens blocks her.
“There’s no need with the young one asleep,” Mrs. Stevens states. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I do hope we do it again.”
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Stevens.”
“You are a most gracious hostess, Lady Moss,” Mr. Stevens informs with a bow. “Do visit us any time we are home.”
“Yes,” agrees his wife. “I shall send for you when Leonard and Adelaide come to visit.”
“It would be lovely to meet them,” Lady Moss says. “I’m sure they are the most delightful people thanks to excellent upbringing.”
“You are most kind,” Mrs. Stevens says with a curtsey.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Mr. Alcott says with a bow. “I do wish—“
“Come, Mr. Alcott,” Mrs. Stevens calls. “We’ve stayed too long. A mother must see to her sleeping child.”
Mr. Alcott looks at Mrs. Stevens for a second before returning his attention to Lady Moss. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Alcott.”
Mr. Jackson and Lady Moss wait patiently for the word that her guests’ carriage is no longer in sight.
“They’re gone, Miss,” confirms Minerva.
“Thank you,” she replies. “You ladies may retire for the evening. I’m sorry to have kept you for so long.”
“It’s not a bother, Miss,” Minerva replies with a shrug. “We don’t mind.”
“Allow me,” Mr. Jackson says, scooping up the boy.
“They were a charming couple, don’t you agree, Mr. Jackson?” She follows him out of the room.
“Far better than most,” he returns.
“You may speak honestly,” she directs. “I will not hold it against you.”
“I meant what I said.”
“What of Mr. Alcott?”
“What of him?” Mr. Jackson snorts.
“What is your impression of him?”
“Why does it matter what I think of the man?”
“I value your opinion,” she states.
He looks over his shoulder. “Since when?”
Her jaw clenches. “I have valued it for many things, have I not?”
“He means well,” Mr. Jackson states.
“Meaning well and actually doing such things are two different concepts.”
As he reaches the top of the steps, Mr. Jackson turns to face her. “I agree with you.” When she doesn’t speak he asks, “You suspect something?”
She nods. “There is always something to suspect when a man overtly tries to impress a woman and doesn’t realize that he counters himself in general conversation.”
“There is more than just his contrary words,” Mr. Jackson states.
She lets out a heavy breath. “Any man who converses with my Aunt as often as he does should be looked upon as if he….”
“Can’t be trusted?” Mr. Jackson asks when she doesn’t finish.
She nods.
“I’m glad to know you have your wits about you.”
“How would I not?” she balks.
He shrugs. “Thought you were considering on marrying the man.”
“What would ever give you that impression?” she asks, offended by his is words.
“I meant no disrespect,” he replies, lowering the boy to the bed.
Lady Moss begins removing William’s shoes. “It is the most disrespectful thing you have ever said to me, Mr. Jackson.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” she affirms, storming out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What shall we get today during our adventure through the Island of Misfit Pirates, William?” Lady Moss asks as they walk the main street of Oakshire.
Since his arrival at the manor, she tries to engage his mind as often as possible. It keeps him alert and more willing to learn.
“The Prince needs some new books and tools to aid his quest for the treasure map to Skull Island,” he replies.
“Oh, my,” she says dramatically, placing her hand over her heart. “I’m certain we can find what is needed to aid with his journey.”
Though William still holds much fascination with being a pirate, his imagination has expanded with the aid of several books he and Lady Moss have recently read. When the weather is warm enough in the afternoon for them to take their studies outside, they venture through the estate which William has called the forbidden forest of Hapshirna.
“Mr. Jackson’s birthday is coming up, is it not?” William asks while they’re in the bookstore.
Lady Moss thinks back when she most recently checked her list. “I believe so.”
“I heard Mrs. Doyle talking about making his favorite cake,” he explains.
“Which is that?”
“Chocolate with strawberry filling,” he shares.
“Sounds delicious.”
“Can…can I buy him a gift?” William asks timidly.
“Of course, my dear.”
“There is one problem,” he declares.
“What is that?”
“I don’t have any money,” he says sadly.
She lowers to his level. “The money from the manor will eventually be yours. There’s no reason to not show appreciation to those you love.”
“You think I love him?”
“You are most fond of your time with him, are you not?” she asks.
William nods emphatically.
“Then, I would say you love him,” she states.
“Like I love you and you love me?”
“If that is how you see it, then I don’t see why not?”
William smiles and nods, but it falters. “Why isn’t it mine yet?”
“What dear?”
“The money and the manor?”
She laughs lightly. “Do you wish my death?”
“No!” he replies instantly.
“It is alright,” she says. “I was only teasing. If you’d like, I can start teaching you of the matters of the estate?”
William nods. “I’d like to understand it…I think.”
“Regardless of what you chose to do when you're a man, comprehending the workings of money, labor, a farm, and a house will transfer over to anything you do.”
“It will?”
She nods. “There are some key principles to integrate with finance, people, and how things work. Once you’ve got them, you merely use your keen brain to analyze similar aspects in any industry and you will undoubtedly be successful.”
“I like that,” he says.
“Good. Now, while we’re here, what would you like to get Mr. Jackson?”
William shrugs. “I do not know what he likes to read.”
Lady Moss glances around at the bookshelves. “Sadly, neither do I, dear.” She thinks for a moment. “What would he need? What could he use?”
William shrugs.
“I think we’ve found today’s quest, don’t you?”
William beams with excitement. “Yes.”
“Why don’t we purchase these and then begin our hunt, hm?”
“Yes,” he agrees, rushing toward the counter.
As they exit the store, William almost collides with a woman. “My apologies, Miss.”
“It is alright,” she says. Her attention gets pulled away from him. “Lady Moss.” She curtsies quickly. “It is a pleasure to met you.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“I know everyone in town,” she reveals. “I knew I didn’t recognize you so I figured you must be who you confirm you are. My name is Adelaide—”
“Stevens,” Lady Moss interrupts with a grin. “Your parents are lovely people.”
“I just arrived in town this morning. Mother plans to send an invite for you to join us for dinner,” she states. “I’m not sure when she was hoping to have you visit.”
“I’ll make myself free when she requests,” Lady Moss declares.
“Can I come?” William asks.
Miss Steven smiles at the boy. “I have heard much of the great, and soon to be, Lord William. I would only expect Mother and Father to insist that you come with your mother.”
William smiles proudly. “We’re on a quest.”
“Are you?” she inquires. “What is it?”
“A quest to find the perfect gift for Mr. Jackson.”
“Who is Mr. Jackson?” Miss Stevens asks.
“My foreman,” Lady Moss replies.
“Of course. My parents met him the night they dined at your home.”
“Correct,” she replies. “Do you have plans for lunch?”
“No.”
“Then, come to the manor,” Lady Moss declares. “I would love to get to know you better where we can speak freely.”
“That would be lovely,” Miss Stevens returns. “That is most kind. I have one more errand to run and then I’ll inform Mother when I get home. She will be most excited that we’ve met.”
“I am as well,” Lady Moss adds.
“What time shall I come?”
“I’m sure William and I won’t be too long,” she replies. “How about noon?”
“Noon it is. Good day, Lady Moss,” she says with a curtsey.
As Ms. Stevens walk away, William asks, “Will we be back in time for lunch?”
“It is only nine, dear,” she replies. “If it takes three hours to find Mr. Jackson a gift, we do not know him at all nor are we very good treasure hunters, are we?”
“You’ve got a point,” William agrees.
“Onward,” Lady Moss commands.
“Onward!” the boy repeats.
It takes only a short bit of time while at the second shop for William to spot the perfect gift. Lady Moss agrees that the item would be an acceptable present.
“Why can’t I tell him?”
“It’s a surprise, dear,” she replies. “Remember Christmas when you got your gifts and didn’t know you were getting anything?”
“Yes.”
“Remember the feeling?”
William nods.
“What if I told you right now that I have a gift for you, but you cannot open it until your birthday?” she asks.
William frowns. “You mean I have to wait all those months until I can get it?”
“Precisely.”
His lips purse. “I comprehend.”
“Good,” she replies. “The excitement of giving a gift is just as fun, is it not?”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “Where should we keep it?”
“That is an excellent question. His birthday is only in a few days,” she reminds. “It should be placed in an area that he does not frequent so he shan’t come upon it.”
“True.”
“We could hide it in my bedroom if you’d like?” she offers. “That way, you know where it is, and when the time comes, you can fetch it to give it to him, yes?”
William nods excitedly.
“Wonderful!”
“Do you think he’ll like it?” William inquires nervously.
“He’ll love it,” she replies.
“Honest?”
“Most honest,” she affirms. “Even more so because it is a gift from you.”
“Better than his chocolate cake?”
She laughs. “It is hard to compete with Mrs. Doyle’s cakes, but I’m certain of it.”
“Good,” the boy sighs with a bit more confidence.
When they approach the bend in the road that is just before the manor, Lady Moss asks, “Do you wish to dine with Miss Stevens and me or would you like to have your lunch with Mr. Jackson and the men?”
“With Mr. Jackson and the men,” he returns.
“Wonderful,” she replies.
Lady Moss helps William find the perfect place in her room to put Mr. Jackson’s gift before taking the boy to the library to do a bit of studying. As the time for lunch approaches, she excuses him early. William darts from the room, rushing outdoors in search of something to do to pass the time.
