Moss Manor, page 22
“Mr. Jackson,” Lady Moss calls as he begins to exit the room.
He turns and faces her.
“I…I am most sincerely sorry for how I reacted towards you.”
“It is what any mother would have done,” he claims.
“Regardless,” she says, glancing down. “I should not have taken my anger out on you. You were merely trying to….”
“Trying to?” He asks when she doesn’t continue.
Her jaw clenches as she tries to find an excuse. “Nothing.” She sighs. “My sincerest apologies.”
“You already apologized,” he reminds, taking a step toward her.
She nods.
A comfortable silence falls between them.
“William is aware that I treated you most unfairly. I assured him that I would make amends,” she adds nervously, daring to look him in the eye.
“It is amended,” he replies.
“Good,” she returns.
“I’ll let the boy know you did.”
The corner of her mouth tugs to the side. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Miss,” Iris calls, entering the study.
“Yes?”
“Baron Hasworthy is here,” she informs with a giddy smile.
Lady Moss’ expression changes from concentration to that of joy. “Wonderful! Do send him in, please.”
“Yes, Miss,” she replies.
Lady Moss gathers several pieces of paper she had been working on as well as a map.
“Good day, Lady Moss.”
“Good day, Baron. How was your trip?”
“Quite good,” he shares.
“Where are you staying while in town?” she inquires.
“I have a room off Main Street,” he shares. “It is quaint.”
“You are more than welcome to stay here.”
He chuckles. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I wouldn’t want gossip to spread about you, my dear friend.”
Lady Moss smirks. “Gossip never bothered me much, but I do agree. It wouldn’t do well with our plans.”
“Which plans are those?” he asks with a sly grin.
“My one set of plans that you are unaware of,” she admits.
“Pray tell!”
“Shall we discuss business first?” Lady Moss asks.
“We have plenty of time to discuss that,” he replies.
She shrugs. “Have you heard of the ball that will be hosted at Stevens Manor?”
One of his eyebrows perk up. “Ball?”
“Yes,” she confirms. “Since I am without a husband, I would much appreciate it if my friend, Baron Hasworthy, would accompany me.”
His brow furrows.
“What is the matter?”
“It is not right for a woman to request a man to take her,” he counters.
“It is if she’s hoping to avoid certain people.” She glances down at her papers, pushing them about slightly.
“Who?”
“Any suitor my Aunt wishes to push upon me,” she says with a sigh.
He lets out a roar of laughter. “You fear Alcott will inquire?”
Lady Moss narrows her eyes. “He already has.”
“And?”
“And, I told him you have already asked,” she claims with a grin.
Baron Hasworthy’s head tilts back as he laughs. “You are a spry one, Lady Moss. How do you know I haven’t already asked another?”
She bites back a crooked smile. “Because…I know of a certain girl who wishes your presence at the ball.”
“You?” he boasts.
Her head sways. “I do enjoy our time together, but there is another.”
The Baron’s head tilts to the side. “Who?”
“A Miss Stevens,” she states.
“I don’t know a Miss Stevens.”
“Oh,” she says with a sigh. “That’s right. You never learnt her last name.”
He takes a step toward Lady Moss. “Don’t leave me in suspense, dear friend. It isn’t decorous.”
Her smile widens. “Adelaide…a young girl you met back in the city….” She doesn’t finish her sentence when she sees his expression change.
“How…how do you know?”
“Well, you just revealed my suspicions,” she muses. “She feels the same.”
Baron Hasworthy lowers to the closest chair.
“Your secret is safe with me, my friend,” she affirms.
“You…you’re not upset?”
“Why would I be upset?”
“I thought, despite the actual business venture we’ll be partaking in, that you, perhaps thought—“
“Any suitor my Aunt wishes to push upon me will not ever be considered,” she informs. “Please, take no offense. If you were not enamored with Adelaide, and the circumstances were different, I would consider you.”
“I feel the same, my dear friend,” he replies.
“So, you will be taking me as you had asked,” she reminds.
“What if Adelaide thinks—“
“She thinks no such thing,” Lady Moss replies with a swipe of her hand in the air.
“You are certain?” he asks speculatively.
“My dear friend, you underestimate what we ladies are aware or capable of,” she reminds.
Baron Hasworthy bobs his head. “You are a rare bird, my friend.”
“Thank you,” she returns, lowering herself to her seat. “Now….shall we—“
“What of her parents?”
“What of them?” she asks.
“Won’t they think that you and I are—“
“Heavens no,” she giggles.
“No?”
She shakes her head. “I’m several steps ahead of you.”
“You are?”
“They already fancy the idea of you being a suitor for their daughter,” she states. “Mr. Mencer is a fine man but—“
“That is who she wishes to marry?”
“That is who her parents wish she would marry until I mentioned you,” Lady Moss reveals.
His mouth ticks to the side.
She waits a few seconds before revealing, “She much prefers you.”
“She does?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his seat.
She nods. “Most indeed.”
His eyes narrow playfully. “Do not tease me, my friend.”
“I dare not,” she says, placing her hand over her heart. “I would never, especially when it pertains to matters of the heart.”
“Then, I shall attend,” he affirms.
“Wonderful,” she sighs. “I’ve already alerted them.”
“You have?” he chuckles.
She nods. “I had to keep up appearances of my farce if Mr. Alcott dare to confirm it.”
“He’ll find a way to attend,” Baron Hasworthy states.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she returns.
“That man is a….” He lets out a huff. “I dare not say.”
“Then, we shan't. Now,” she says, adjusting the paper before her. “I have put in several names for the Stevens to invite. I would much appreciate it if you could speak up the party and let them know you will be in attendance.”
“More to your plans?” he speculates.
She can’t hide the smile growing on her lips. “Yes.”
He shifts the chair closer to the desk, placing his elbows on it and his chin in his hands. “Do tell?”
“I—“
“Miss?” Mr. Jackson calls, suddenly from the doorway.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson?”
He fumbles for a second, uncomfortable with who’s in the study with her. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Jackson,” she says.
Baron Hasworthy rises, offering his hand to the man. “Good to see you, Mr. Jackson.”
Mr. Jackson hesitantly takes it. “Baron Hasworthy.”
“Is William alright?” she asks, drawing his attention.
“He’s fine,” Mr. Jackson returns.
When he doesn’t continue, she urges, “Then?”
“It can wait,” he claims, turning away.
“Mr. Jackson,” she huffs. “There is no need to be so cryptic. Out with it.”
He glances for a second at the Baron before saying, “One of the cows is struggling to give birth.”
“Well, let’s go tend to her,” she suggests.
“You’re busy,” Mr. Jackson insists.
Lady Moss looks at the Baron. “Care to join us or wait here?”
“I’ve never witnessed a cow being born,” the Baron states.
“There’s always a first,” she says.
“To see you in action, my friend, would be a true sight,” Baron Hasworthy says with a chuckle. “Lead the way.”
Mr. Jackson rolls his eyes as he heads back toward the barn.
Lady Moss and the Baron follow close behind.
“Where’s William?” she inquires. “Is he assisting?”
“Been there since I came to get you,” Mr. Jackson informs.
As they reach the barn, Lady Moss hears the distress in the cow’s voice. Growing up, she had witnessed several breached calves. Her Father had instructed her brothers each time as she watched on with awe and attentiveness. She wasn’t allowed to assist because her Father said she was too young, but she still took the opportunity to inspect the cows and watch the births.
Lady Moss glides her hands along the animal’s belly and places her ear against it.
“What do you hear?” William inquires.
“Come,” she instructs. Lady Moss directs him how to stand and where to place his ear. “Do you feel it?”
After a few seconds, William nods.
“The head is in the wrong position,” she states. “The head should be here….” She glides her finger along the cow. “But it’s here.” She takes his hand and pushes it against the animal. Then, she glides his hand with enough pressure from her hand so he can feel the calf.
William nods. “I think I feel it.”
“It takes time,” Lady Moss informs. “I had many years practicing when calves were born. Feeling enough righted calves, you know when one is not.”
“Can it be born?” William inquires.
“Nature makes her push it out,” Lady Moss states. “But, it will die if it does not come out head first.”
“How do we help it?” the boy asks, concerned about the animal.
“We try to turn the calf,” Lady Moss replies.
“Turn the calf? Are you mad?” Baron Hasworthy inquires.
Mr. Jackson snorts. “She’s always mad.”
“I’m not mad,” she retorts. “My Papa has done it numerous times, as well as my brothers.”
“And, you have as well?” the Baron asks nervously.
“N…No,” she says hesitantly. “Papa said I was too young but—”
“I’ve only helped yank one out by the back feet,” Mr. Jackson states. “Calf survived, but the mother did not.”
Lady Moss begins to remove her dress.
“What are you doing?” Baron Hasworthy inquires, covering his eyes as he looks away.
“There’s no need to ruin a perfectly good dress,” she replies.
“Told ya,” Mr. Jackson chuckles. “Mad. It’s a shame you don’t have your trousers on,”
Her eyes narrow. “Unless you intend to assist the animal, Mr. Jackson, hold your tongue.”
He snorts. “Not like I haven’t heard that before.”
“Baron Hasworthy?”
“Yes?” he replies, reluctant to glance in her direction.
“Round the cow to her head,” she instructs. “Keep a hold of her attention.”
“How am I to do that?” he balks.
She shrugs. “You are a handsome, smart man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“You’re joking, right?”
She laughs. “The view will be more tolerable from there. Simply try to soothe the mother if you can.”
“What are you going to do?” William inquires.
Lady Moss positions herself at the rear of the animal. “I’m going to reach in and turn the calf.”
“If that doesn’t work?” Mr. Jackson asks.
“I’ll yank it out by the front legs,” she insists.
“You’re not strong enough,” Mr. Jackson counters. “I’ll do it.” He shrugs out of his jacket and rolls up his sleeves.
“Nonsense,” she counters. “I know what to do.”
“You ain’t never done it before,” Mr. Jackson reminds.
“I heard plenty of that from Papa,” she reminds. “I don’t need another man telling me what I can and can’t do.” A second later, she reaches inside the animal.
The cow indicates its discomfort, but Lady Moss pays it no mind.
“How’s it going?” Baron Hasworthy asks after a few minutes.
“It’s turned,” Lady Moss announces. She moves back, hoping the mother has the energy to deliver it herself.
“Why isn’t it coming out?” William asks after a little bit of time.
Lady Moss shakes her head. “Come on, girl. Push.”
Mr. Jackson assesses the animal and reaches in to feel the head and front feet. Then, he checks the mother’s breathing. “She ain’t got the ability, Miss.”
It takes only a moment for Lady Moss to process the situation.
“You get one leg and I’ll get the other,” Mr. Jackson declares, readying himself at the rear of the animal. “There’s no reason to lose both.”
“Right,” she says after another moment of hoping. “Right.” Lady Moss joins him.
“On the count of three,” Mr. Jackson instructs.
She pushes her hand in alongside his. Once she has a hold of the other foot, Lady Moss nods. “One, two—“
“Three,” Mr. Jackson and Lady Moss say at the same time as they tug on the calf.
Slowly, but surely, they manage to get the baby out. It springs to its feet, as best it can, and staggers around.
“My word,” Baron Hasworthy sighs. “I would never have believed it unless I saw it.”
Lady Moss smiles proudly. “And that is how it’s done.”
“What of the mother?” William asks.
“She should pull through,” Mr. Jackson states. “Most do when the calf is born right. She would have died if it wasn’t.”
“Unfortunately, Baron Hasworthy, I am no longer proper for our meeting,” Lady Moss states the obvious.
Mr. Jackson offers her his jacket.
“Thank you,” she replies.
Baron Hasworthy chuckles at the scene before them.
“Shall we continue our business dealings tomorrow?” she suggests.
“I think so,” the Baron agrees.
“I’ll walk you to—“
“No need, Lady Moss,” he says. “I can see myself to my horse.”
“William, please assist Baron Hasworthy,” she requests.
The boy rolls his eyes.
“Do as you’re told,” she insists sternly.
“Stay for lunch tomorrow, Baron,” she insists with a grin. “You will be most happy if you do.”
He shakes his head as he walks away. “Good morrow, dear Lady Moss.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Can I see your watch?” William asks when he sees Mr. Stevens remove it from his pocket.
“Of course, my boy,” he replies, offering it to him.
William takes it and places it next to his own, studying the differences and similarities.
“What have you found?” Mr. Stevens inquires.
“William is quite interested in how clocks work,” Lady Moss announces. “In fact, part of our lesson yesterday was having him disassemble one from the West Wing that hasn’t worked in quite some time.”
“What did he find?” Mr. Stevens replies.
“He had discovered that one of the springs had come loose,” she returns.
“The gears move similarly,” William announces. “Some are bigger, but there are a few that yours has that mine does not.”
“What of mine?” Baron Hasworthy inquires, offering his timepiece.
“And, mine?” Leonard Stevens requests.
William takes them, lining them in a row. “One is slightly slower.”
“Really?” Mr. Stevens replies, leaning closer. “Which one?”
William studies the devices for another moment. “That one,” he says pointing to Mr. Stevens. “I can fix it.”
“Can you?” he inquires, amused by the boy’s confidence.
Lady Moss nods in agreement. “The repairman in town has shown William a few tricks. He picks up skills quite quickly.”
William retrieves the tools that he keeps in his jacket pocket and carefully opens the device.
“Good, steady hands,” Baron Hasworthy praises.
“Indeed,” Mr. Stevens and Leonard agree in unison.
The ladies gather closer, eager to watch on. Baron Hasworthy and Adelaide Stevens glance at each other when no one is looking, smiling at one another. Lady Moss grins to herself at the spectacle, pleased with William’s natural ability to draw in others’ attention at the most opportune time.
“There,” William announces, closing the watch. He winds it a few times and then lines it back up with the others. He waits patiently, listening for any imperfection. “It’s fixed!”
“My word,” Mr. Stevens sighs.
“Well done,” Leonard praises.
William returns everyone’s timepiece.
“What do we owe you for your trouble, William?” Mrs. Stevens asks.
“Nothing,” William replies.
“Surely we must pay you for your valiant skills,” Mrs. Stevens insists.
William shrugs. “I’m just learning.”
“Another skill the Pirate Prince has gained, I should think,” Adelaide states.
“I agree,” says Lady Moss.
“Most definitely,” replies the Baron.
“Then,” Mrs. Stevens says with a sigh. “I’ll make sure we have something special just for you at the ball, William. Perhaps a cake of your own?” She winks at him.
William’s eyes inflate as a smile stretches from ear to ear.
“A kind gesture,” Lady Moss says. “Thank you, Mrs. Stevens.”
About an hour after their meal concludes, Lady Moss’ guests relieve her of her duties as their hostess.
