They had plenty of sugar, coffee, flour, salt, baking soda, soap, vinegar, cider, apples, potatoes and other vegetables. More vegetables came daily out of the garden, in the height of bloom and yielding more vegetables than they could eat or preserve for winter. Every morning Benjamin brought fresh milk from the barn. She gave him a few extra vegetables from the garden and extra eggs from the chickens to take to sell at the market and her husband had been surprised and pleased when she had handed him the purse of coins from Benjamin's first few successful transactions. She had given Little Ben a few shillings to purchase peppermint sticks and a half pound of caramels as a reward for his hard work in going to the village to make the trades.
The lad had returned from that trip to the village with a very large grin and had offered to share some of his sweet and sugary loot with her. William had watched all of this with a very observant eye and he was secretly pleased that she was endeared by the boy and surprised she was so industrious as to make a return on the garden. From that point on she seemed to hand him about a pound a week from the proceeds of the garden and the sale of the extra eggs they didn't use.
Everything seemed almost ready for their supper so she sat down in a wooden chair to rest her back and began to churn a fresh batch of butter, which activity soon seemed only to add to her slight back discomfort. She tried to ignore it by keeping her thoughts busy on other matters, such as the mystery of her husband. Her mind continued to consider how well stocked they were and the fact that her new husband seemed to be a very successful and contented farmer. He never complained and seldom looked troubled about anything for very long. He had the usual worried look from time to time that she'd seen on the faces of other men working hard to provide for their wives and families... but he always seemed to bounce back with unusual fervor from anything that might trouble him.
There were plenty of cows, chickens and horses...more than she could count, even a great quantity of sheep and pigs. They didn't seem to lack for anything but a decision on where they were going with this marriage.
Clover had settled into an extra stall nicely in one of the barns housing the horses and she had enough extra apples to give her an apple daily without worrying about running low of their supply. The orchard on the farm yielded several varieties of apples to choose from. She surmised at one time he must have had a great deal of help here. Everything was very well in order. She would let him know that they were out of candles this evening at dinner.
She found herself looking forward to a trip into the village but doubted William would suggest she accompany him. She thought it a bit odd that only one neighboring farmer had been by to greet them in more than a month and only her husband had spoken to him. She was beginning to feel a bit like a prisoner and more and more... like a potential wife, but then she remembered he was still trying to protect her honor... Wasn't it time they both faced the fact that the first month of marriage had gone well? Were they not well suited to each other? How long would her husband deny that not only were they attracted to each other, but they had feelings of love for each the other?
She thought back to the visit from one of the neighboring farmers. The men had stood out at the end of the lane talking by the fence, her husband with one knee bent and his boot firmly lodged on the bottom fence rail as he talked for a long while with the neighbor who remained on his horse the entire time. She had observed their conversation from behind the lace curtain in the parlor where she could remain unseen, sensing it would be somehow inappropriate for her to barge out of doors and intrude on their conversation if her husband had not beckoned her.
She gathered from that encounter he still did not want to publicize their marriage any further yet …. all in an effort to protect her. How could she fault him for that? He was concerned with her honor and reputation above his own.
So many weeks had passed without them meeting with anyone from the village nor any trips to town for supplies or attending Sunday services. Instead, on Sundays, they read the Bible together in the parlor or on the front porch and then she played hymns on the piano.
William seemed very pleased with the fact she could play a musical instrument and often requested she play a song or two after dinner in the evenings. She didn't know that Benjamin would often sit outside the barn doors on the ground or under the front porch windows and listen to her playing the beautiful music. He thought she was the finest lady he had ever known.
She dared not ask him to take her to the village so she could browse the shops though she toyed with the idea of being able to purchase a bit of lace to trim a bonnet or buy new threads in new colors... as going into the village presented a huge problem. She would meet the villagers and farmers from the area and it would raise destroy her reputation should she decide not to remain his bride. They would all be curious as to who she was and where she was from.
Still, she found herself wanting everyone to know she was married to this handsome and kind, gentle farmer. She wanted to begin her new life properly and be introduced to her new neighbors and meet people in the village whom she hoped would become the friends and neighbors of their future children.
It was easy to fall into place as his bride in this lovely parish, what little of it she'd actually seen. It would only be a matter of time before someone else would eventually come knocking on the door while he was in the fields... and then what would she say? Would it displease him to know that she would tell the truth, that she was Mrs. William Harcourt now? What else could she do if indeed that very thing were to happen? She would not tell a lie. She felt guilty enough for having read his private letters and had repented at least several times over that incident.
She slid a heavy oven mitt on her right hand and opened the oven door to peer at the pie baking in the brick oven in the wall beside the fireplace. It still needed a little more time so she firmly latched the oven door shut and wondered what her husband was waiting on when it came to loving her. If she could embrace her new life so quickly, what was holding her husband back? Perhaps he felt she needed time. He always seemed to be thoughtfully observing her every move and reaction. Perhaps he felt she had embraced this all too quickly. She set about to mixing the ingredients together for two loaves of bread. Had she embraced this life too quickly?
Did he not realize she had nothing... nothing else left in her life to embrace but this opportunity? Did he not realize how much she loved him all ready? It seemed to her he simply could not trust her heart yet. She would simply have to try harder to be more verbal and to somehow convey that she was trustworthy of his love -- that she wasn't planning to leave his side. Had the death of his mother made him unable to trust? Was he afraid to love? Little did she know, time was the one thing he did not have and the one thing he felt she needed the most.
William had come in from the fields tired and a little later than usual. He noticed the wood pile was starting to dwindle and took time to chop more wood. Much of the afternoon he'd spent repairing two fences which had required more of his strength and expertise than he'd thought they would. He was not used to putting in so many hours of physically demanding labor. Before Alexandra, he'd spent more time pouring over the books and ledgers than chopping wood, repairing fences, feeding animals or walking the fields. Though he had engaged in all of those activities from time to time, he wasn't used to doing it by himself ten hours a day without much help. Little Benjamin could only do so much. He would not shirk his duties though now that the usual farmhands of this outer lying property had been dismissed for his purposes. He hadn't wanted to risk anyone divulging his true identity to his bride until he was certain of her trustworthiness and her desire to remain with him, and he certainly couldn't leave the farm in disarray when the manager and servants returned. They would surely blast him for that.
She seemed to be handling the long hours away from him each day well enough. She hadn't asked for hardly anything at all. She worked hard in the house, the garden and even in the orchard each day... and, she seemed to do it all cheerfully. But she had
adapted far too quickly in his mind. It did frighten him a little. The rest of their lives would be a very long time. He had to be sure of her intention to live this life with him, and yet he felt he was running out of time to give her or himself. As much as he wouldn't mind taking her into his bed, he wasn't the type to take advantage of a woman for his own needs. He wanted to tell her who he was... but how, and when?
As a Duchess, she wouldn't have to lift a finger if she didn't want to... but still, she had to be the right kind of lady. They were to be examples to many people who depended upon them to be responsible, kind and charitable. Ivy Clifton Hall supported many tenants who relied upon them to manage things well. He hadn't been able to see her interact with very many people and couldn't help but wonder if she would do well among his people in Gloucester-shire once he moved her to his home and family seat.
He had a pretty good feel for her heart. He hardly had to ask himself if she would she be kind to the servants, get along with his family or bring food to the poor and tend the sick? Would she share her gentle heart with them, see their plight and their daily struggle for survival? Would she be loyal to him and him alone? Was she ready at nineteen years of age for such great responsibility after having had a part of her childhood robbed and great responsibility thrust upon her from a young age? Was she ready for a family and ready to settle down and remain loyal to him all the days of his life, or would she be flirtatious with others, as Lady Catherine Duncan had been? He was fairly certain her motives were pure when he asked himself these questions...
He set another log on the ground to split and as he swung the sharp axe he considered that it was nearly time to tell her the truth about who he was. The sound of the logs cracking and splitting apart didn't phase his thoughts. Just being near her, his desire for her was growing with each passing day. He was running out of time to fill the requirements of his father's will. He wondered why his father had made things so complicated and brought the axe down hard and sharply on another log. It split apart on the ground and he thought his heart felt split apart like that log...
He truly found himself wanting to make her his wife in more than just name only but he still felt they both needed more time in just getting to know each other. He reflected on the moment in which he'd signed his true name to their wedding license. Fortunately she'd been distracted by the vicar long enough for him to pen his real name and title on the document. The vicar had said “Hartford” during the ceremony, refusing to marry them under any other name but agreeing before the ceremony to avoid addressing him as “Duke” or “Your Grace.” Thankfully Alexandra simply thought he was hard of hearing and a bit distracted. She hadn't noticed how many times the vicar's wife had curtsied to them. The vicar had been too ornery to give anything more than a slight nod of his head. The ceremony had been nice but he longed for the right moment to tell Alexandra the truth about everything.
He was glad to have this smaller property nestled in the beautiful and scenic Cotswalds to retreat to without having his aunt and uncle around to disturb their privacy. Marcus seemed to have been averted with ease and Lady Catherine, well, all he could do was hope she had taken the hint that he could do far more damage to her reputation than she could to his if she tried to push him into an engagement that had merely been a hope in the mind of his aunt and uncle. He had tried to tell her that there might not be as much at stake as she had hoped. Perhaps he had given her enough incentive to move on to other prospects for marriage.
Seldom did anyone from his family venture here other than for a change of scenery from time to time. It had been at least two years since his uncle had been here and longer than that since his aunt or brother had visited. When he had visited, usually twice per year, he had always enjoyed the solace of the quiet farm and the friendly visits with the manager and his wife (she did the cooking and maintained the household) who operated the farm. He had found them and their quiet faith to be refreshing. They had known his parents and often talked with him about their memories of his father and mother.
He'd have gone to bed right after dinner if it hadn't been for the fact he had a wife to keep his company.... and she was pleasant to come home to after a long day in the fields lugging water. He found that with the plowing and planting seasons behind and the harvest season still a few months off, things did run rather smoothly at present, as long as he kept up with feeding all of the stock and checking on everything continually. There was water to haul, wood to split, stalls to clean, stock to feed and water, fields to traverse, horses to exercise, fields to water, the ledger to keep, the sheep to pen, horses to groom ... and the matter of praying for rain. He found the work pleasantly distracting even though it was becoming harder and harder to keep his mind off of the physical attraction between them.
He swung the axe again and more logs split open spilling onto the ground. He would soon have to tell his bride the truth about who she had married. He could hear her humming a pleasant tune from the open kitchen window as he lifted the axe to swing again. She was such a peaceful creature to be around and truly she seemed to belong in the country and lead a simple and quiet life. Here she seemed right at home. That was part of what scared him. She would find her life was going to change drastically as a Duchess.
It crossed his mind that she might be angry with him, maybe even want nothing more to do with him after he revealed his full identity. However, she had no idea what it was like to fend off ladies who seemed interested in marrying for wealth, title and connections. Even women who had been born to wealth and title seemed as though they craved more of the same. It was especially hard to find a mate who also shared his faith, depending daily on his Savior, Jesus Christ for salvation and guidance. Alexandra was a once in a lifetime kind of girl he thought.
Yes, what he was doing was somewhat of a deceptive means of testing her-- but it was to him, a sure test of her true feelings and devotion. He hoped when he told her the truth she would be able to see that he lived in a glass world where relationships operated on the surface and were often built for the sake of appearance and acquaintance, but easily shattered. If his aunt and uncle were only a little less preoccupied with what the ton thought... things might have been gone much better for him in the regard of finding the right sort of wife. They had given Lady Catherine Duncan such false hopes.
Alexandra continued to amaze him, this woman who had given up the opportunity to marry a Duke once before and who said she didn't care if he held a title. These factors seemed to be the most obvious signs of all that he'd encountered the right woman. Lord, he prayed, I'm running out of time... if you could give me some kind of sign that she is ready for the truth and that she is truly the right one....
He realized she was bearing much grief inside, having lost everyone in life she'd ever truly loved. He hadn't yet returned home from his work to find her idle. She was soft spoken and conversation with her was usually comfortable. He felt at ease with her. She was generally happy and even tempered, though sometimes he detected a faraway look in her eyes. It was at those times that he knew she was missing her mother or longing for her father.
She had asked about his family, curious to know what his uncle did and where they lived... eager to meet what would be her new family if they remained together. He had been able to indicate that his uncle managed a large farm but was near retirement. She had asked about his brother and he had been able to say Marcus was learning to become a barrister and yes, informally engaged. She had also asked where his aunt and uncle lived and he'd said much further north and she hadn't pressed him, to his relief. It didn't seem fair to withhold her new family from her for much longer.
Sometimes he would come home to find her playing the piano, usually hymns and softly singing praises to God. She seemed to light up any room and was full of youth, life, and cheerfulness. He had realized on the journey to Blenheim that he enjoyed every moment he spent with her, immensely. It had been refreshing to be away from the farm for a short while with her and the hectic pace he for
ced himself to keep up with.
He hadn't shared this sort of relationship with anyone before... but he realized he looked so forward to being with her and how often his mind turned to thoughts of her. Finished with stacking the split logs near the back door, he entered the kitchen and stopped at the wash basin and pitcher stand to wash up for the evening meal, whistling as he scrubbed his blistered hands. No other woman he had ever known had occupied his thoughts so much before. She seemed to complete him and give him a sense of purpose. He realized as he considered how she made him feel that he was happier and more joyful than he'd been in a long time. He watched her flitting about the kitchen table placing food, a vase of fresh flowers and straightening a knife that didn't need straightening. She certainly had a woman's touch and way of doing things.
Chapter 13. About Benjamin Trimmel
The Duke sat down at the table after Alexandra did, pulling out her chair for her. He sat down in the chair at the head of the table to her right and prayed for their meal, thanking God for the good things he had given and blessed the food. She poured cold water from the water pitcher into their glasses and he placed his linen napkin on his lap. She had been surprised at how impeccable his manners were for a farmer. Most would have tucked a napkin into their shirt at the neck or not used one at all perhaps. She wondered how his manners had come to be so impeccable.
To Find a Duchess Page 15
