Moss Manor, page 24
“What of the role of being a brother?” Mr. Warren asks. “Don’t you want someone to play with?”
“Do not pull my son into this,” Lady Moss warns.
“The Barton boys play with me most days when the weather is good,” William shares.
“They get along quite well,” his mother praises.
“But what on the rainy days when you’re stuck inside?” Mr. Warren inquires.
“Abbie plays with me,” William reveals. “As does Mr. Jackson. Sometimes the girls will play unless they or the other women are teaching me how to do things. The men make work in the fields fun, so it’s not so boring.”
“Contain your husband, dear Elizabeth,” Lady Moss warns playfully.
“No woman will contain me,” Mr. Warren refutes. “I am the king of this home, as William explained it, therefore I shan’t be.”
“Come, Charles,” Lady Moss giggles. “You are making a fool of yourself.”
He stomps his foot. “I am not.” When William snickers, Mr. Warren cracks a smile. “I am king and in my kingdom, I say you must marry so this boy has brothers and sisters to play with.”
“Good thing that I do not live in your kingdom then, Charles,” she bites back lightheartedly. “I had plenty of that with my Aunt.”
“Must you visit her tonight?” Mrs. Warren inquires, changing the subject.
“We will be visiting my Uncle,” she corrects. “Aunt Norma is merely a sideshow at the Jenning kingdom.”
“I do not know how you put up with her,” Mrs. Warren says.
“I think she thinks she means well,” Lady Moss replies. “I do my best to tolerate her all for the sake of Uncle.”
“He is such a kind man,” Mrs. Warren praises. “How did he ever marry her?”
“Honestly, I do not know,” she replies. “No one ever told me, nor did I inquire.”
“Do not speak so ill of the woman,” Mr. Warren scolds. “She is not here to defend herself.”
“You, my dear, haven’t had the pleasure of her true character,” Mrs. Warren returns. “I have seen it on numerous occasions.”
“She was always so kind to me,” Mr. Warren states.
“That’s because you were considered a suitor for me,” Lady Moss informs.
“She thought…honestly?” Mr. Warren asks with astonishment.
Lady Moss nods. “The woman is about raising her stature in society.”
“But, I am not a Lord nor a Baron,” Mr. Warren reminds.
“But, your employer is,” Lady Moss reminds. “And, you have many as clients.”
Mr. Warren nods. “Ah.”
Before nightfall, Lady Moss and William make their way to her Uncle’s home. Despite her attempt, Lady Moss was unable to get her Aunt to agree to invite the Warrens. As before, Mr. Jackson is not welcome, though Mr. Jenning would much prefer it, so he escorts his Lady and the boy to the house.
The other guests include Baron Hasworthy, Mr. Alcott, Mr. Pickens, Edmund Pickens, Mr. Goodier, and Mr. Lidstone. Mrs. Jenning believes, from the gossip of Baron Hasworthy visiting her niece frequently, that there could be a potential proposal from either him or Mr. Alcott. The more suitors interested, and in the same room, she believes, the better chance of a proposal happening sooner than later, which means her social circles will dramatically change for her betterment.
As dinner concludes, Lady Moss and her Aunt retire to the drawing room as the men and William head to the parlor. Eventually, Mrs. Jenning requests Lady Moss to play the piano which she hopes will draw the men to their location. In less than five minutes, they join the women.
Lady Moss continues to play as Baron Hasworthy assists with singing a song or two. Mr. Lidstone, Mr. Alcott, and Mr. Goodier vie for Lady Moss’ attention, but she’s happier giving it to Baron Hasworthy or William who dances from time to time. Finally, after the tenth song, Lady Moss is relieved of duty as her Aunt wishes for her to converse with the men.
“William,” Lady Moss calls. “Why don’t you show Uncle what you’ve learnt since he taught you to tell time?”
William jumps up, eager to reveal what he knows. The boy requests the pocket watches of all of the men, lining them up in a row on the chaise. Lady Moss tries to watch on, but Mr. Alcott and Mr. Goodier place themselves in her line of sight.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Lady Moss says. “I do wish to watch William.”
“The boy is quite skilled,” Baron Hasworthy shares. “He has and eye an ear for it unlike I have ever seen.”
“For what?” Mr. Lidstone inquires, eager to impress Lady Moss by giving the boy his attention.
William glances at each of the watches and one catches his eye. He studies it intently.
“Is there something different?” Lady Moss inquires, encouraging William to express himself freely.
“They’re all ticking the same,” the boy confirms. “But, this one looks much like Mr. Jackson’s.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Moss inquires, rising to her feet.
The men who are seated rise with her.
“It….it…” William turns the device over in his hands. “It looks so much like Mr. Jackson’s.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Jenning says dismissively.
“The boy showed me how he can take one apart and put it back together again,” Baron Hasworthy praises. “It takes him no time at all.”
“Fascinating,” Mr. Jenning says.
“Thief!” William shouts, jumping to his feet.
“Who?” Mr. Jenning asks.
“Those are harsh words, William,” Lady Moss warns cautiously.
“I ain’t lying, honest, Abbie,” William replies, holding onto the device in question. “He’s a thief!”
“How dare you claim that anyone here is a thief,” Mrs. Jenning quips. She snatches the watch from the boy and hands it back to Mr. Alcott.
Lady Moss steps forward. “How did you know that was his watch?”
“Pardon?” her Aunt replies, looking confused.
“You handed it to Mr. Alcott and he didn’t hesitate to put it in his pocket,” Lady Moss declares. “How did you know it was his?”
“I…I don’t know,” Mrs. Jenning scoffs.
Knowing her Aunt, Lady Moss takes a step closer. “Return them all.”
“What are you on about?” the woman asks with a nervous giggle.
“Return each one to their rightful owner,” Lady Moss directs.
“Abigail?” Mr. Jenning calls more curious by what is unfolding.
“No,” Mrs. Jenning refuses.
Lady Moss takes another step toward her Aunt. “Return them.”
“John,” Mrs. Jenning calls.
His eyes narrow. “I see nothing wrong with the request.”
“I—“
“Return them,” Lady Moss commands.
Mrs. Jenning stares her down for several long seconds. “Fine,” she huffs. She grabs the first one and looks at it. “This is your—“
“It is mine,” Mr. Goodier says as Mrs. Jenning is about to hand it to Edmund Pickens.
“My apologies,” Mrs. Jenning sighs. “This one…” She picks it up and hands it to William. “This one is yours.”
William nods and takes it.
She picks up the next one and hands it to her husband. “This one,” Mrs. Jenning says, holding the next watch. She glances around the room. “This is silly. I will not participate in your silly game. I will not allow you to make a mockery of me.”
“If anyone is making a mockery of you, you are the culprit,” Lady Moss challenges.
“How dare you!” scoffs Mrs. Jenning.
“Easy, Abigail,” Mr. Jenning warns gently though he comprehends the situation.
Lady Moss takes another step toward her Aunt. “Yet, you are quick to make a mockery of my son?”
“I ain’t lying,” William declares. “I promise, Abbie.”
“Mr. Alcott?” Lady Moss calls, not taking her gaze off of her Aunt.
“Yes, Lady Moss?” he replies, moving toward her. “How can—“
“May I see your watch, please?” She sticks out her hand.
“Of course,” Mr. Alcott agrees.
Snatching the device before Lady Moss closes her hand, Mrs. Jenning declares, “This is preposterous.”
“What is preposterous is your manner, Norma,” Mr. Jenning says, rising. “Give Abigail the watch.”
“No.”
“Norma,” Mr. Jenning warns.
“It was a gift from your Aunt,” Mr. Alcott states. “A most generous gift.”
“Most generous indeed,” agrees Lady Moss.
“Norma,” Mr. Jenning repeats more sternly.
The flustered woman reluctantly hands it over.
Lady Moss takes it and opens it. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare. “How dare you!”
“What is it, Abigail?” Mr. Jenning inquires.
Lady Moss lets out a snicker as she glances toward Mr. Alcott. “And, you were so blind to just accept it?”
“What is it, Abigail?” Baron Hasworthy asks. He takes the watch and inspects it.
“William,” Lady Moss calls.
“Yes, Abbie?”
“Tell Baron Hasworthy where to find the engraving,” she instructs.
“You have to angle it,” William informs, walking over to the man. “It’s just above the smaller gear on the right.”
The Baron lowers so the boy can show him.
“See,” William says.
“And, what are the initials, dear?” Lady Moss asks.
“TJ,” Baron Hasworthy states.
“TJ?” several of the men inquire.
Mr. Alcott requests to see it himself and is shocked when he does.
“Theodore Jackson,” Lady Moss announces. She snatches the watch from Mr. Alcott and hands it to William.
“Norma Jenning,” Mr. Jenning calls coldly. “What have you done?”
“I….I….”
“You dare care my son a liar?” Lady Moss asks, fighting to control herself.
“He’s just a boy,” Mrs. Jenning quips. “I bought it in town a while back.”
“It is pure gold,” Lady Moss informs. “Why would you give such a gift to Mr. Alcott?”
“Answer the question, Norma,” Mr. Jenning commands.
“I do not have to explain myself in my own home,” Mrs. Jenning claims.
“It was a gift I gave to Mr. Jackson not long after my arrival to the manor,” Lady Moss informs. “It was the late Lord Quincy’s.”
“He doesn’t deserve such—“
“Hold your tongue!” Lady Moss warns. “That man deserves this watch and much more. Who cares what his status is? He may have an ill-tempered tongue, but at least he doesn’t lie nor steal.”
“How could you, Norma?” Mr. Jenning asks, saddened by the moment.
“A foreman owning a gold watch?” she replies with a nervous giggle. “It’s not right.”
“What’s not right is you taking it from him and giving it to another,” Mr. Jenning states coldly. He turns toward his niece. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t know.”
Lady Moss inches closer to her Aunt. “You may be family by marriage, but that man, my foreman, that you despise so much, is more family than you ever have been. He—“
“He is a foreman,” Mrs. Jenning states indignantly.
“At least he has a heart,” Lady Moss quips. “He treats my son with—“
“He isn’t your son,” Mrs. Jenning says curtly.
“Whether you like it or not, dear Aunt,” Lady Moss says, barely holding on to her last bit of will. “He will inherit that estate. I—”
“Do not speak to—“
“Do not speak to me in the way that you are,” Lady Moss cautions. “I am a Lady.” She looks over her Aunt. “I do not need to explain myself to you or anyone.” She takes in a breath and lets it out, giving her words a moment to settle. “It does not matter to me that William does not have my blood. He bleeds just as I do, which makes him mine. He is my son and he is the future Lord of Moss Manor.“
William stands with his chin a little higher as takes hold of Lady Moss’ hand.
“William?”
“Yes, Mama?”
Lady Moss sucks in a shallow breath and smiles at the boy. “Shall we go?”
William smiles happily. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Abigail,” Mr. Jenning says, touching her just above the elbow. “I—“
She offers him a warm smile as she fights back the tears. “I know.”
“Lady Moss,” Mr. Alcott calls. “I—“
Her heated gaze cuts the man off, warning him to tread lightly.
“Shall I see you to the Warren’s?” Baron Hasworthy offers.
Lady Moss takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I think William and I need to be alone. Thank you, Baron, for your kind gesture.” She curtsies.
He bows. “I’ll visit tomorrow to check in on you.”
She smiles and nods. “That would be lovely.” Lady Moss catches her Aunt’s gaze, so she turns to face her. “You are no longer welcome at Moss Manor. My Uncle may visit whenever he wishes, but from here on out, I no longer have an aunt.”
Chapter Thirty
“Go inside, William,” Lady Moss directs as the front door is opened by Grace, one of the maids.
“What about—“
“I’ll be right in,” she assures. “I…I just need a minute, dear.”
William watches her for a few seconds, reluctant to leave.
“It’s alright,” she says encouragingly. “I’ll be in the back garden.” She looks up at Grace. “Can you see to it that he gets to bed?”
“Yes, Lady Moss,” she replies.
“I want you to tuck me in, Mama,” William objects.
“I will tuck you in,” she replies. “I…I just need a minute…please?”
William’s lips purse as he offers a slight nod.
“Come, William,” Grace says encouragingly, offering her hand. “Tell me more of your adventures on the seas as the Pirate Prince.” She closes the door.
Lady Moss lets out a heavy breath and paces the front several times before taking the side gate to the back of the house. She tries to sit, but she’s unable to remain still longer than a second. Needing to get out her pent-up energy, Lady Moss begins pacing the back of the yard, just beyond the veranda and the food garden which is at least fifty feet from the house.
“You alright, Miss?” Mr. Jackson asks suddenly.
Lady Moss jolts, not expecting him or anyone.
“Did William wake you? Grace should have taken him right to bed,” she says. “I am sorry. He—“
“He didn’t wake me,” Mr. Jackson replies. “Overheard the conversation…sort of.”
Her gaze lowers to the ground. “Did…did William tell you what happened?”
“I avoided him as Grace ushered him to his room,” Mr. Jackson states. “Mr. Warren and Mrs. Warren helped to distract the boy.”
“I will give them my gratitude in the morning,” Lady Moss replies with a sigh. “Thank you.”
“Said something about wanting to be with his Mama,” Mr. Jackson adds.
Lady Moss’ lips tuck up to the side. “He said it again?”
“Again? When was the first time?” Mr. Jackson asks.
“At my Uncle’s,” she shares.
Mr. Jackson nods, not surprised by the boy using the term. He knew it was only a matter of time before William would call her mother rather than by her first name.
A shift inside Lady Moss directs her anger at the man before her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“You think I wouldn’t believe you?” she asks rhetorically. “Honestly, Mr. Jackson, I thought you knew me better than that?”
“What are you on about?”
Angrier at the night and the situation than him, her heated glare intensifies as she retrieves the gold watch from her pocket and holds it up. “Honestly, Mr. Jackson?” she huffs. “Had you told me what had transpired I would have—“
“Would have what?” he challenges. “Draw unnecessary attention in front of others?”
“Well, I did that already tonight,” she replies snidely. “In front of, not only my Aunt and Uncle, but Baron Hasworthy, Mr. and Edmund Pickens, Mr. Lidstone, Mr. Goodier, and….” Her eyes narrow with more anger behind them. “And, Mr. Alcott.”
“What did he do?”
“He was the recipient of your watch,” she declares, shoving it into his hand. Lady Moss is unable to move away as Mr. Jackson takes a step back. “How could you not—?“
Mr. Jackson lowers to his knee.
“What are you doing?”
“You done being mad at me?” he asks.
“Done?” she snickers. “I have merely begun.”
“Then I shall stay down here until you are finished.”
“Stand up, Mr. Jackson.”
He does not comply.
“My anger seems to have increased greatly by your actions,” she quips. Lady Moss stares at the top of his head, willing him to look up.
After what feels like several minutes, Mr. Jackson lifts his chin. Their eyes lock. Lady Moss’ gaze softens as Mr. Jackson’s expression requests forgiveness.
“I should bludgeon you for not telling me what happened.”
“Thought you’d be over that by now.”
“Perhaps, you should walk the plank.”
His lips curl upward, pleased to see that Lady Moss is coming around. “Please forgive me?” he requests sweetly.
“Why on Earth should I?” she replies sharply, fighting to retain some bit of anger.
“I did not wish to cause a further rift with your Aunt,” he admits.
“She is guilty of that, not you.”
“Then, why are you mad with me?”
Her eyes narrow, cautioning him to tread lightly.
“I did not wish to add to the strain between you both,” he admits with a sigh.
“Stand up, Mr. Jackson, so I may finish reprimanding you for your—“
“I will not,” he replies.
“Why not?” she scoffs.
“Not until you are no longer angry with me.”
Lady Moss regards him. “Honesty, Mr. Jackson,” she huffs. “How can it be taught to William when we, ourselves, are unable to use it?”
His eye twitches as he contemplates his reply. “I should have told you.”
“Do not pull my son into this,” Lady Moss warns.
“The Barton boys play with me most days when the weather is good,” William shares.
“They get along quite well,” his mother praises.
“But what on the rainy days when you’re stuck inside?” Mr. Warren inquires.
“Abbie plays with me,” William reveals. “As does Mr. Jackson. Sometimes the girls will play unless they or the other women are teaching me how to do things. The men make work in the fields fun, so it’s not so boring.”
“Contain your husband, dear Elizabeth,” Lady Moss warns playfully.
“No woman will contain me,” Mr. Warren refutes. “I am the king of this home, as William explained it, therefore I shan’t be.”
“Come, Charles,” Lady Moss giggles. “You are making a fool of yourself.”
He stomps his foot. “I am not.” When William snickers, Mr. Warren cracks a smile. “I am king and in my kingdom, I say you must marry so this boy has brothers and sisters to play with.”
“Good thing that I do not live in your kingdom then, Charles,” she bites back lightheartedly. “I had plenty of that with my Aunt.”
“Must you visit her tonight?” Mrs. Warren inquires, changing the subject.
“We will be visiting my Uncle,” she corrects. “Aunt Norma is merely a sideshow at the Jenning kingdom.”
“I do not know how you put up with her,” Mrs. Warren says.
“I think she thinks she means well,” Lady Moss replies. “I do my best to tolerate her all for the sake of Uncle.”
“He is such a kind man,” Mrs. Warren praises. “How did he ever marry her?”
“Honestly, I do not know,” she replies. “No one ever told me, nor did I inquire.”
“Do not speak so ill of the woman,” Mr. Warren scolds. “She is not here to defend herself.”
“You, my dear, haven’t had the pleasure of her true character,” Mrs. Warren returns. “I have seen it on numerous occasions.”
“She was always so kind to me,” Mr. Warren states.
“That’s because you were considered a suitor for me,” Lady Moss informs.
“She thought…honestly?” Mr. Warren asks with astonishment.
Lady Moss nods. “The woman is about raising her stature in society.”
“But, I am not a Lord nor a Baron,” Mr. Warren reminds.
“But, your employer is,” Lady Moss reminds. “And, you have many as clients.”
Mr. Warren nods. “Ah.”
Before nightfall, Lady Moss and William make their way to her Uncle’s home. Despite her attempt, Lady Moss was unable to get her Aunt to agree to invite the Warrens. As before, Mr. Jackson is not welcome, though Mr. Jenning would much prefer it, so he escorts his Lady and the boy to the house.
The other guests include Baron Hasworthy, Mr. Alcott, Mr. Pickens, Edmund Pickens, Mr. Goodier, and Mr. Lidstone. Mrs. Jenning believes, from the gossip of Baron Hasworthy visiting her niece frequently, that there could be a potential proposal from either him or Mr. Alcott. The more suitors interested, and in the same room, she believes, the better chance of a proposal happening sooner than later, which means her social circles will dramatically change for her betterment.
As dinner concludes, Lady Moss and her Aunt retire to the drawing room as the men and William head to the parlor. Eventually, Mrs. Jenning requests Lady Moss to play the piano which she hopes will draw the men to their location. In less than five minutes, they join the women.
Lady Moss continues to play as Baron Hasworthy assists with singing a song or two. Mr. Lidstone, Mr. Alcott, and Mr. Goodier vie for Lady Moss’ attention, but she’s happier giving it to Baron Hasworthy or William who dances from time to time. Finally, after the tenth song, Lady Moss is relieved of duty as her Aunt wishes for her to converse with the men.
“William,” Lady Moss calls. “Why don’t you show Uncle what you’ve learnt since he taught you to tell time?”
William jumps up, eager to reveal what he knows. The boy requests the pocket watches of all of the men, lining them up in a row on the chaise. Lady Moss tries to watch on, but Mr. Alcott and Mr. Goodier place themselves in her line of sight.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Lady Moss says. “I do wish to watch William.”
“The boy is quite skilled,” Baron Hasworthy shares. “He has and eye an ear for it unlike I have ever seen.”
“For what?” Mr. Lidstone inquires, eager to impress Lady Moss by giving the boy his attention.
William glances at each of the watches and one catches his eye. He studies it intently.
“Is there something different?” Lady Moss inquires, encouraging William to express himself freely.
“They’re all ticking the same,” the boy confirms. “But, this one looks much like Mr. Jackson’s.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Moss inquires, rising to her feet.
The men who are seated rise with her.
“It….it…” William turns the device over in his hands. “It looks so much like Mr. Jackson’s.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Jenning says dismissively.
“The boy showed me how he can take one apart and put it back together again,” Baron Hasworthy praises. “It takes him no time at all.”
“Fascinating,” Mr. Jenning says.
“Thief!” William shouts, jumping to his feet.
“Who?” Mr. Jenning asks.
“Those are harsh words, William,” Lady Moss warns cautiously.
“I ain’t lying, honest, Abbie,” William replies, holding onto the device in question. “He’s a thief!”
“How dare you claim that anyone here is a thief,” Mrs. Jenning quips. She snatches the watch from the boy and hands it back to Mr. Alcott.
Lady Moss steps forward. “How did you know that was his watch?”
“Pardon?” her Aunt replies, looking confused.
“You handed it to Mr. Alcott and he didn’t hesitate to put it in his pocket,” Lady Moss declares. “How did you know it was his?”
“I…I don’t know,” Mrs. Jenning scoffs.
Knowing her Aunt, Lady Moss takes a step closer. “Return them all.”
“What are you on about?” the woman asks with a nervous giggle.
“Return each one to their rightful owner,” Lady Moss directs.
“Abigail?” Mr. Jenning calls more curious by what is unfolding.
“No,” Mrs. Jenning refuses.
Lady Moss takes another step toward her Aunt. “Return them.”
“John,” Mrs. Jenning calls.
His eyes narrow. “I see nothing wrong with the request.”
“I—“
“Return them,” Lady Moss commands.
Mrs. Jenning stares her down for several long seconds. “Fine,” she huffs. She grabs the first one and looks at it. “This is your—“
“It is mine,” Mr. Goodier says as Mrs. Jenning is about to hand it to Edmund Pickens.
“My apologies,” Mrs. Jenning sighs. “This one…” She picks it up and hands it to William. “This one is yours.”
William nods and takes it.
She picks up the next one and hands it to her husband. “This one,” Mrs. Jenning says, holding the next watch. She glances around the room. “This is silly. I will not participate in your silly game. I will not allow you to make a mockery of me.”
“If anyone is making a mockery of you, you are the culprit,” Lady Moss challenges.
“How dare you!” scoffs Mrs. Jenning.
“Easy, Abigail,” Mr. Jenning warns gently though he comprehends the situation.
Lady Moss takes another step toward her Aunt. “Yet, you are quick to make a mockery of my son?”
“I ain’t lying,” William declares. “I promise, Abbie.”
“Mr. Alcott?” Lady Moss calls, not taking her gaze off of her Aunt.
“Yes, Lady Moss?” he replies, moving toward her. “How can—“
“May I see your watch, please?” She sticks out her hand.
“Of course,” Mr. Alcott agrees.
Snatching the device before Lady Moss closes her hand, Mrs. Jenning declares, “This is preposterous.”
“What is preposterous is your manner, Norma,” Mr. Jenning says, rising. “Give Abigail the watch.”
“No.”
“Norma,” Mr. Jenning warns.
“It was a gift from your Aunt,” Mr. Alcott states. “A most generous gift.”
“Most generous indeed,” agrees Lady Moss.
“Norma,” Mr. Jenning repeats more sternly.
The flustered woman reluctantly hands it over.
Lady Moss takes it and opens it. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare. “How dare you!”
“What is it, Abigail?” Mr. Jenning inquires.
Lady Moss lets out a snicker as she glances toward Mr. Alcott. “And, you were so blind to just accept it?”
“What is it, Abigail?” Baron Hasworthy asks. He takes the watch and inspects it.
“William,” Lady Moss calls.
“Yes, Abbie?”
“Tell Baron Hasworthy where to find the engraving,” she instructs.
“You have to angle it,” William informs, walking over to the man. “It’s just above the smaller gear on the right.”
The Baron lowers so the boy can show him.
“See,” William says.
“And, what are the initials, dear?” Lady Moss asks.
“TJ,” Baron Hasworthy states.
“TJ?” several of the men inquire.
Mr. Alcott requests to see it himself and is shocked when he does.
“Theodore Jackson,” Lady Moss announces. She snatches the watch from Mr. Alcott and hands it to William.
“Norma Jenning,” Mr. Jenning calls coldly. “What have you done?”
“I….I….”
“You dare care my son a liar?” Lady Moss asks, fighting to control herself.
“He’s just a boy,” Mrs. Jenning quips. “I bought it in town a while back.”
“It is pure gold,” Lady Moss informs. “Why would you give such a gift to Mr. Alcott?”
“Answer the question, Norma,” Mr. Jenning commands.
“I do not have to explain myself in my own home,” Mrs. Jenning claims.
“It was a gift I gave to Mr. Jackson not long after my arrival to the manor,” Lady Moss informs. “It was the late Lord Quincy’s.”
“He doesn’t deserve such—“
“Hold your tongue!” Lady Moss warns. “That man deserves this watch and much more. Who cares what his status is? He may have an ill-tempered tongue, but at least he doesn’t lie nor steal.”
“How could you, Norma?” Mr. Jenning asks, saddened by the moment.
“A foreman owning a gold watch?” she replies with a nervous giggle. “It’s not right.”
“What’s not right is you taking it from him and giving it to another,” Mr. Jenning states coldly. He turns toward his niece. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t know.”
Lady Moss inches closer to her Aunt. “You may be family by marriage, but that man, my foreman, that you despise so much, is more family than you ever have been. He—“
“He is a foreman,” Mrs. Jenning states indignantly.
“At least he has a heart,” Lady Moss quips. “He treats my son with—“
“He isn’t your son,” Mrs. Jenning says curtly.
“Whether you like it or not, dear Aunt,” Lady Moss says, barely holding on to her last bit of will. “He will inherit that estate. I—”
“Do not speak to—“
“Do not speak to me in the way that you are,” Lady Moss cautions. “I am a Lady.” She looks over her Aunt. “I do not need to explain myself to you or anyone.” She takes in a breath and lets it out, giving her words a moment to settle. “It does not matter to me that William does not have my blood. He bleeds just as I do, which makes him mine. He is my son and he is the future Lord of Moss Manor.“
William stands with his chin a little higher as takes hold of Lady Moss’ hand.
“William?”
“Yes, Mama?”
Lady Moss sucks in a shallow breath and smiles at the boy. “Shall we go?”
William smiles happily. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Abigail,” Mr. Jenning says, touching her just above the elbow. “I—“
She offers him a warm smile as she fights back the tears. “I know.”
“Lady Moss,” Mr. Alcott calls. “I—“
Her heated gaze cuts the man off, warning him to tread lightly.
“Shall I see you to the Warren’s?” Baron Hasworthy offers.
Lady Moss takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I think William and I need to be alone. Thank you, Baron, for your kind gesture.” She curtsies.
He bows. “I’ll visit tomorrow to check in on you.”
She smiles and nods. “That would be lovely.” Lady Moss catches her Aunt’s gaze, so she turns to face her. “You are no longer welcome at Moss Manor. My Uncle may visit whenever he wishes, but from here on out, I no longer have an aunt.”
Chapter Thirty
“Go inside, William,” Lady Moss directs as the front door is opened by Grace, one of the maids.
“What about—“
“I’ll be right in,” she assures. “I…I just need a minute, dear.”
William watches her for a few seconds, reluctant to leave.
“It’s alright,” she says encouragingly. “I’ll be in the back garden.” She looks up at Grace. “Can you see to it that he gets to bed?”
“Yes, Lady Moss,” she replies.
“I want you to tuck me in, Mama,” William objects.
“I will tuck you in,” she replies. “I…I just need a minute…please?”
William’s lips purse as he offers a slight nod.
“Come, William,” Grace says encouragingly, offering her hand. “Tell me more of your adventures on the seas as the Pirate Prince.” She closes the door.
Lady Moss lets out a heavy breath and paces the front several times before taking the side gate to the back of the house. She tries to sit, but she’s unable to remain still longer than a second. Needing to get out her pent-up energy, Lady Moss begins pacing the back of the yard, just beyond the veranda and the food garden which is at least fifty feet from the house.
“You alright, Miss?” Mr. Jackson asks suddenly.
Lady Moss jolts, not expecting him or anyone.
“Did William wake you? Grace should have taken him right to bed,” she says. “I am sorry. He—“
“He didn’t wake me,” Mr. Jackson replies. “Overheard the conversation…sort of.”
Her gaze lowers to the ground. “Did…did William tell you what happened?”
“I avoided him as Grace ushered him to his room,” Mr. Jackson states. “Mr. Warren and Mrs. Warren helped to distract the boy.”
“I will give them my gratitude in the morning,” Lady Moss replies with a sigh. “Thank you.”
“Said something about wanting to be with his Mama,” Mr. Jackson adds.
Lady Moss’ lips tuck up to the side. “He said it again?”
“Again? When was the first time?” Mr. Jackson asks.
“At my Uncle’s,” she shares.
Mr. Jackson nods, not surprised by the boy using the term. He knew it was only a matter of time before William would call her mother rather than by her first name.
A shift inside Lady Moss directs her anger at the man before her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“You think I wouldn’t believe you?” she asks rhetorically. “Honestly, Mr. Jackson, I thought you knew me better than that?”
“What are you on about?”
Angrier at the night and the situation than him, her heated glare intensifies as she retrieves the gold watch from her pocket and holds it up. “Honestly, Mr. Jackson?” she huffs. “Had you told me what had transpired I would have—“
“Would have what?” he challenges. “Draw unnecessary attention in front of others?”
“Well, I did that already tonight,” she replies snidely. “In front of, not only my Aunt and Uncle, but Baron Hasworthy, Mr. and Edmund Pickens, Mr. Lidstone, Mr. Goodier, and….” Her eyes narrow with more anger behind them. “And, Mr. Alcott.”
“What did he do?”
“He was the recipient of your watch,” she declares, shoving it into his hand. Lady Moss is unable to move away as Mr. Jackson takes a step back. “How could you not—?“
Mr. Jackson lowers to his knee.
“What are you doing?”
“You done being mad at me?” he asks.
“Done?” she snickers. “I have merely begun.”
“Then I shall stay down here until you are finished.”
“Stand up, Mr. Jackson.”
He does not comply.
“My anger seems to have increased greatly by your actions,” she quips. Lady Moss stares at the top of his head, willing him to look up.
After what feels like several minutes, Mr. Jackson lifts his chin. Their eyes lock. Lady Moss’ gaze softens as Mr. Jackson’s expression requests forgiveness.
“I should bludgeon you for not telling me what happened.”
“Thought you’d be over that by now.”
“Perhaps, you should walk the plank.”
His lips curl upward, pleased to see that Lady Moss is coming around. “Please forgive me?” he requests sweetly.
“Why on Earth should I?” she replies sharply, fighting to retain some bit of anger.
“I did not wish to cause a further rift with your Aunt,” he admits.
“She is guilty of that, not you.”
“Then, why are you mad with me?”
Her eyes narrow, cautioning him to tread lightly.
“I did not wish to add to the strain between you both,” he admits with a sigh.
“Stand up, Mr. Jackson, so I may finish reprimanding you for your—“
“I will not,” he replies.
“Why not?” she scoffs.
“Not until you are no longer angry with me.”
Lady Moss regards him. “Honesty, Mr. Jackson,” she huffs. “How can it be taught to William when we, ourselves, are unable to use it?”
His eye twitches as he contemplates his reply. “I should have told you.”
