“It’s true,” said Daisy, as she took Rosalind’s hand, then proceeded to swing it back and forth. “People come from all over to have him solve their problems. He can probably help you, too, miss.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask your father for assistance.”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t,” said Tommy. “He helps everyone else and you’ve been good enough to go with us back to the village. If you need anything once you’re there, you’ve naught but to ask.”
Rosalind smiled at the siblings. If only their father could help her out of her predicament. But perhaps he could offer her a ride to the nearest stage.
Late in the afternoon, as dusk was closing in, a farmer came by in his cart. Tommy was acquainted with the man, who lived in a neighboring village, and the farmer very kindly gave them a ride. Rosalind was quite sure her mother and brother would have apoplexy at the sight of her riding in the cart. The children had been kind enough to allow her to sit in front, while they were in back with half a dozen sheep that Daisy promptly set about naming.
Rosalind would never forget her first glimpse of Kibworth. It was barely a village.
From the vantage point of a hill, she could see farmhouses and barns clear into the horizon, with sheep scattered throughout. The buildings were in decent enough shape and a few were even modest manors. There was a church, a pub that was slightly larger than the church – scandalously so, according to the local ladies she would later meet – and a small green. There was exactly one shop, which also served as the post. A smithy was the only other establishment in the village.
It had a picturesque beauty that Rosalind had never seen before. She’d travelled little with her family. And only then to grand estates for house parties and three times to Brighton. If she were with them now, their coach wouldn’t even stop at a town like this, but likely speed though the center.
But now, even though the light was fading fast, she could see the charm of the village and was glad that Tommy and Daisy lived in such a place, for she’d grown quite fond of them in just the day they’d spent together.
The farmer dropped them off in front of one of the largest houses in the village, though it was still quite small by ton standards. More of a two storey cottage, really.
As soon as they pulled up, a man who must have been six and a half feet tall, came out of the house, no doubt surprised to see his children returning early. And with a stranger in tow. His hair was reddish brown and his eyes a light hazel. He had the build of a man accustomed to hard work, but the clothes befitting a country squire, though he wore no stock. His boots were a few years old, but shined impeccably. His breeches covered muscled thighs and his waistcoat was unbuttoned. His shirt revealed a V of skin at his throat. He was a handsome man who obviously spent a great deal of time in the sun.
“What’s this now?” he asked as he swooped Daisy up into his arms and pulled Tommy in for a hug. “I thought I would have to suffer through another week without you.”
Tommy then told him of what had occurred on the mail coach, with occasional assistance from Daisy who didn’t think the story was dramatic enough without her help.
Their father grew more angry as the story progressed. “I would like to show that driver just what I think of him and those two toffs.”
“But we did all right, father,” said Tommy, who nonetheless looked relieved to be home safe and sound.
“Miss Rose was very kind to us,” said Daisy. “And…” she added in a loud whisper, “she’s beautiful, father.”
As if realizing for the first time that they weren’t alone, the children’s father looked at Rosalind. Without letting go of his children, he bowed to her. “I can’t thank you enough, my lady.”
Rosalind blushed. “It was nothing. I was quite tired of that coach, I assure you. And I am not a lady. I am simply Rose Williams.” She curtsied.
“Gabriel Mills, Miss Williams,” he said.
“Father,” said Daisy, “invite her in for supper.”
Gabriel shook his head as if to clear it. “What an excellent idea, Daisy. Miss Williams, would you care to join us? Not just for the meal, but to stay the night? I’m afraid there’s no inn for several miles and traveling at night can be a bit tricky in these parts.”
Rosalind didn’t want to impose, but she truly didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I would be delighted, Mr. Mills. Thank you.”
So, Rosalind joined them for dinner and stayed the night in a small guest room near the nursery. Gabriel had asked what her plans were and when she could not supply adequate details beyond a vague wish to go to Scotland, he said he had a better idea.
“We could use a teacher here. I know this might not be the place you were looking for, but we’re in dire need of someone to teach the children in the village. Unfortunately, we cannot pay you much. But the advantage in working for farmers is you’ll always have plenty of food to eat and wood for your fire. There’s a cottage near the church. It’s a bit run down and would need a thorough cleaning, but you could live there if you could but see yourself teaching the children. The vicar cannot do it because he spends too much time travelling and the earl hasn’t seen fit to provide one.”
“The earl,” said Tommy with a snort. “As if he’d care enough to help us out. We never even see him more than once a year.”
“Now, Tommy,” said his father. “It’s best not to grow dependent on others. We can do for ourselves and help others, too. Miss Williams, I know our village isn’t much, but would you consider it?”
“Please, Miss Williams,” said Daisy. “Please, please.”
Rosalind was intrigued. She had hoped to travel further away from London. The village was set off from the major roads, but the idea that an earl lived nearby was worrisome – no matter how absentee he kept himself.
“But, sir, you do not know the first thing about me,” she said.
“I know you gave up a seat on the mail coach to look after my two children, then walked nigh thirteen miles to see them safely home. I don’t think I need to know more than that.”
Rosalind was touched by the faith this man was placing in her. And this was an offer of honest employment, rather than only the possibility of finding a job at a convent school. But there were still risks. “I do not know how long I can stay,” she said, knowing she might have to flee if she heard Calvin was searching for her.
“That would be up to you. Mayhap you should give it a try for a month or two and see how you like it,” he said.
“Mayhap we should see how well I do. I must tell you that I have never taught anyone before. I never even went to school. I had a tutor for a while, but most of my learning came from books I read.”
“That sounds like as good a way to learn as any,” said Gabriel.
“You had a tutor?” asked Daisy with wide eyes. “Did you grow up in a great house with servants?”
Here was the danger facing Rosalind. She didn’t want to lie to this family. But if she told them too much about herself that was true, word could get back to Calvin and before she knew it, she’d be forced back to London. So, a few lies were necessary.
“I grew up in a great house,” she said slowly. She watched as Gabriel’s manner changed. Some of the friendliness seemed to ease away, replaced by formality.
“So you are a lady, then,” he said. “Forgive me for being so presumptuous, my lady.”
“No!” If she had to lie, the last thing she wanted was to put up a wall of formality between them. Besides, news of a lady teaching farm children would be sure to spread. So she had to lie. “My mother was a servant. The marquess was kind enough to let me take lessons with his children.”
“A marquess,” said Tommy with disgust. “Was he as bad as the earl? Who was he?”
“The Marquess of Riverton.” Rosalind hoped Lizzie would forgive her for using her husband’s title. She was also distressed because each lie added to her perfidy, yet became increasingly easier to tell.
That seemed to make Gabriel r
elax. He smiled. “I can assure you the cottage is far from a great house, but we’ll make it a home for you.”
“Father says I’m good with my hands,” said Tommy. “I reckon I can help get that cottage back in order.”
“And I shall help, too,” said Daisy. “I can bake biscuits.”
“You can?” said Rosalind. “That’s very clever of you.”
“Truth be told,” said Gabriel, “she eats as many as she bakes.” He ruffled her hair. “But they’re quite tasty.”
Rosalind set foot in the cottage for the first time the next day. The first floor was naught but a sitting room, with a small kitchen in back. The stone floor was in desperate need of a cleaning and Rosalind was intimidated by the kitchen when it became clear that a cook was not part of the arrangement. Perhaps reading her mind, Gabriel reminded her that food would be provided and if she was unfamiliar with cooking, he was sure he could get someone to do it for her. But Rosalind didn’t want to be beholden to him anymore than she actually was, so she thanked him and said she would make do on her own.
Then prayed she’d be able to.
A narrow flight of stairs took her upstairs to the bedroom. It was of a size that would allow a bed, a small dresser and a chair. She opened the shutters to a pretty view of fields with a light dusting of snow. The air was cool but refreshingly clean.
The cottage was laughably small by ton standards, even for servants. But as she stood in the dirty, cold cottage, she felt at home for the first time in her life.
She turned to see Gabriel standing quietly at the door. He looked worried about her reaction. “I love it,” she assured him. “I shall be most comfortable here.”
His grin lit his face, making Rosalind realize just how handsome he was.
“I am glad to hear it, Miss Williams, but we have quite a bit of work to do before it’s truly comfortable. We’ll need to move furniture in here, for one thing. I have a few extra items I could give you. And before you protest, I can assure you teaching the children will try anyone’s patience. You’ll more than earn what little we give you.”
“But you have already done so much.”
“You brought my children home safe and sound. I owe you more than a few mismatched pieces of furniture. Besides, I expect the school children will tire you out. The least I can do is give you a place to sleep.” Then he blushed. Vividly. “That is to say…I didn’t mean to imply… I’ll go see to the roof.”
For the next three days, Gabriel and Tommy fixed the roof and made sure the shutters were hung properly on their hinges. Daisy helped Rosalind clean, keeping her entertained with tales of the animals on the surrounding farms.
Daisy also believed Rosalind’s home deserved a name. Then she decided she should be the one to name it, which is how it became known as Rose Cottage, with the adjacent Daisy Garden.
As the four of them worked to fix up the cottage, they were the subject of a great deal of curiosity in the village. Since winter was upon them, the farmers were primarily occupied with their animals, while the women tended to the home. That didn’t stop any of them from walking by Rose Cottage slowly several times a day, craning their necks to see what was going on.
Rosalind stayed out of sight as much as possible, still fearing that somehow word would get back to her family. Finally, there was a knock on the door and she knew she could not avoid answering it. She opened the door to find a woman on the porch, and what surely must be most of the village’s women in the lane.
She knew she must look a fright. She’d cleaned little in her earlier life and while she threw herself into it now gleefully, she seemed to have transferred most of the dirt from the cottage onto her person.
“Hello!” She said, as she wiped her hands upon her apron.
“Indeed,” said the middle-aged woman staring back. “I am Mrs. Milton. The other ladies and I wanted to welcome you to the village.” But from the way she was looking Rosalind up and down, it was clear she, at least, just wanted to take a good, long, rather insulting look at the occupant of Rose Cottage.
“I am Miss Rose Williams,” said Rosalind, curtsying to her and the other ladies in the lane.
“Miss Rose…” Rosalind turned to see Gabriel walking toward the house, carrying two heavy sacks, making his muscles stand out against his jacket.
Almost as one, the ladies in the lane turned to look at him. Rosalind rather thought they were doing more leering than looking, but he was quite handsome and had her heart not already been captured by another handsome man, she might be leering, as well.
Once Gabriel realized what he’d walked into, it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to flee. But instead, he nodded to the ladies and introduced Rosalind to them.
It didn’t take Rosalind long to notice that every eligible female seemed to be in love with the man, along with many of the married ones. If he was also aware of it, he did not show it. But he did extricate himself from the situation as quickly as possible, mumbling something about having to go check on the animals.
That was, of course, Daisy’s cue to come bounding out of the cottage to accompany her father. His smile was immediate and warm as he hoisted his daughter onto his broad shoulders and took his leave of the ladies.
Once again, Rosalind was overcome with a wave of sadness as she pictured Liam doing the same thing, even though she wasn’t sure he would ever go tend to his animals. Dukes weren’t allowed to do such things, were they?
She turned her attention back to Mrs. Milton, whom Rosalind suspected was the village gossip. Mrs. Milton wasted no time in telling her she had strong reservations about sending any of the children to school, since it was the quickest way to give them thoughts above their station.
Gabriel had been preparing Rosalind for that very argument, so she took the tactic he suggested. She explained to Mrs. Milton that school was, of course, completely optional, but she was looking forward to teaching both Tommy and Daisy and any other children who might be interested. At the mention of Daisy’s name, Mrs. Milton’s interconnecting brows shot up to her hairline. Before the woman could give the misguided lecture on the education of girls Rosalind was sure to come, Rosalind told the woman that an educated girl was less likely to be cheated in the course of running a home.
That was an argument Mrs. Milton could not refute, although she looked like she would dearly like to try. It was clear from the lessening of tension in the other ladies that Rosalind’s point had hit home. Gabriel had told her that the earl’s steward had cheated the farmers over the years in small increments that had added up to large sums. If there was any way to avoid that, it was obvious the villagers would strive to do so.
Mrs. Milton was clearly torn between wanting to deny the newcomer her wish to open a school and desiring in some small way to strike back at the earl’s cheating steward. “Perhaps there would be some benefit in sending the boys,” said Mrs. Milton. “But it would be naught but a waste to send the girls, since it is the men who must deal with the steward.”
Rosalind moved past her to address the women in the lane, many of whom looked as skeptical as Mrs. Milton. “I believe the girls will get just as much out of the lessons as the boys. After all, the girls should know sums so they can deal with shopkeepers. Learning to read and write will also make them more employable should it be necessary to seek work outside of the village.”
One or two looked like they might be amenable to the prospect, but the others were not convinced.
“Father thinks it’s a good idea.”
Rosalind looked up to see Tommy on the roof, lining up shingles. “Father says everyone has need of book learning. That’s why he’s sending both me and Daisy.”
It was as if the voice of an angel had delivered a sermon from heaven. If the village’s most popular bachelor had given his approval, that was quite good enough for the women in the lane. They asked for details of when class would begin (two days hence), where it would be held (either the pub or the church, it hadn’t quite been decided) and wh
ether Gabriel would be available to answer their questions later. Rosalind hadn’t wanted to volunteer the poor man to be mobbed, so she was rather vague on that point.
Rosalind watched the ladies leave with a great deal of satisfaction, and, in Mrs. Milton’s case, a certain amount of joy. A few had introduced themselves to her and had quietly informed her they would be pleased to have their children attend classes on the days they were not needed at home. Rosalind knew that in a small village such as this, children were expected to work a great deal. But she would make it her goal to ensure they learned as much as possible on the days they were able to attend class.
And just like that, teaching had become something she was dedicated to, rather than only a means for her survival. If she could teach the children to read and write and do sums, they in turn could help their parents do the same. She would, of course, gladly teach the adults, but she had a feeling pride would keep many away, at least at first.
Her life now had purpose, something she’d never had growing up as the daughter of a viscount. She was still concerned about her future, but somehow knowing she could help others lessened her own worries.
After that, the work on the cottage went much smoother. Rosalind became quite good at cleaning – she smiled when she thought of how horrified her mother would be at the addition of that skill to Rosalind’s repertoire of talents. And when Gabriel pronounced the roof sound and the shutters in good working order, she couldn’t help but grin from the inside out. Gabriel looked momentarily dazzled by it, so she quickly turned to Tommy and Daisy, thanking them for their hard work.
At the end of the three days, Rosalind moved into her very own home. She didn’t own it, of course. And it was cold as ice, even when the fire was lit. And the furniture was mismatched and on loan. She was also more than a little nervous to do her own cooking. But as she ate the meat, bread and cheese Gabriel had supplied as her first payment for agreeing to teach, she couldn’t have been happier.
Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 5
