by Sarah Winn
Once he learned that the call of nature would literally be answered in nature, the idea of climbing out of the buggy and searching for privacy behind bushes and trees became a game that he could hardly wait to play again. Ellen tried to discourage him, but she dared not deny him too long for fear he might have an actual accident.
All this activity must be annoying a man who had no children of his own, but the captain was such a serious gentleman, it was hard to tell what annoyed him most: Toby’s behavior or being dragged into a messy situation that was not of his making. While he had readily agreed to help her, the way he had given a steady stream of instructions to the men who worked for him before he had clicked the reins over the horse’s back and driven away from his house, told her she was taking him away from his business at a bad time.
Furthermore, she worried about the strain of having to drive a buggy for such an extended time on a one-armed man. She had read about his disability in the newspaper, but when she had first seen him, with his jacket covering his right arm and a glove on that hand, she had questioned the newspaper account. Then she noticed how little that arm moved and the stiff positions of the fingers and realized the hand and most of the arm were not real. When they traveled along straight stretches of road, he occasionally wound the reins between the stiff, slightly splayed fingers of the artificial hand, giving his real arm some time to relax.
She thought about offering to share the driving with him, but she had shown no particular talent for driving a buggy when Philip had given her driving lessons, and she’d had no chance to practice after he left for the Crimea. Perhaps it would be better to let Toby force frequent rest stops than to risk their safety on her driving skills.
The sun had passed its zenith before the captain pulled into a shady spot by the side of the road. After positioning the horse in a grassy patch near a small, sluggish stream he announced his intention to investigate the lunch basket Mrs. Moore had packed for them. Ellen did not wait for him to help her from the buggy as a proper lady most assuredly would have. She didn’t want him to think poorly of her upbringing, but neither did she want to add to his burdens unless she absolutely had to.
Holding Toby’s hand, she approached the back of the phaeton as Captain Osborne reached for the basket wedged in among the luggage. “We might have to sit in the buggy to eat,” he said. Then he opened the top of the wicker basket and a red and green plaid blanket popped into view.
“Oh, Mrs. Moore thought of everything.” The Captain looked down at Toby. “What would you rather do, young man, sit in the buggy and eat or have a picnic on the ground?”
“Picnic!” Toby’s eyes brightened at the prospect.
They walked under the shade of a large oak tree. Ellen took the blanket, unfurled it, and tried to spread it on the ground, but the area was on the edge of a farm field that had not been mowed in a long time and bunches of broom grass supported the woolen cover in irregular distances from the ground. As Ellen began to pat at one corner of the blanket with her foot, The Captain said, “Toby, let’s help your mother flatten the blanket.”
Toby looked at him with a questioning frown, and the Captain started to lift and lower the picnic basket on top of the blanket to break the stiff grass beneath it. The boy quickly got the idea and went from stomping on the grass to rolling around and using his entire body to crunch the stalks down until they had a relatively flat surface to sit upon.
The captain smiled at the boy’s antics, and for the first time Ellen thought the man attractive. Then he placed the basket in the center of the blanket and they all sat around it. Ellen unloaded sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a corked jug of clean water. She gave Toby half a roast beef sandwich, and he gobbled it down and then started to munch on an apple. As his elders ate with a bit more decorum, the boy leaned back and began to study the puffy white clouds scattered about the bright blue sky.
Ellen realized he was looking for pictures in the clouds, a game she had taught him. Then she noticed that his hair had grown a bit darker. At birth, with a fringe of pale blond hair and light blue eyes, Toby had looked so like his father. After Philip’s death, Ellen had hoped the son would grow up to be a living portrait of the man she had so dearly loved. But his hair had started to darken in the last couple of years and was now streaked dark blond and light brown. Even his eyes had grown darker. She knew that was for the best. Toby should grow up to become his own man, not a copy of his father. She had been wrong to even hope for such a thing. But—still—
“What are you seeing?” Captain Osborne’s voice jolted her from her revelry. He had addressed Toby as he stared into the heavens.
“A bull frog,” Toby replied.
The captain looked up and turned his head back and forth as he scanned the sky. “I don’t see a frog.”
Toby leaned back and pointed straight up. “There.” His head accidently came down against the Captain’s artificial hand with a thunk. Toby popped up, looked down to see what he had bumped against and then looked up at the Captain with a silent question written across his face.
Ellen frantically tried to think of some way to distract Toby from embarrassing the captain any further, but before anything came to her, the captain calmly said, “My hand and most of this arm is artificial. I lost my real arm in the war.”
Toby’s eyes bugged from his head. “Lost it?” He was obviously horrified over the idea that an arm could be misplaced.
Ellen felt her cheeks burning in embarrassment, but the Captain smiled a bit before saying, “A cannon shell exploded near me and a piece of it struck my arm. It did so much damage that the doctors had no choice but to cut the arm off. About here.” He motioned with a finger of his real hand to a point several inches above where an elbow should have been.
“Oh.” Toby sat back on his heels. “What did they cut it off with?”
Ellen finally found her voice. “That’s enough, Toby. Give the Captain a chance to eat his lunch, so we can get back on the road.”
The boy sighed and looked about for further entertainment. “Can I go look at the river?”
“Certainly not,” Ellen replied.
“It’s not deep,” the Captain said. “In fact, it only runs if we’ve had recent rain.” He reached out and broke off several pieces of broom straw and held them out to Toby. “You might drop these into the water and see how far they float.” Then he looked over at Ellen. “If your mother doesn’t mind.”
Reassured and knowing Toby would be close by if he did accidently fall in, Ellen nodded, and watched the boy grab the straw and scurry toward the little stream. When he was out of earshot, she said, “I’m sorry if he embarrassed you with his questions. Sometimes he’s too curious.”
“Don’t worry about it. I learned from the children at Firthley Hall that there is no maliciousness behind their curiosity, and it’s better to answer their questions quickly and honestly.”
“Firthley Hall?”
“Yes, that’s where we’re going now. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want any of my servants to know our destination. They will not have to worry about lying to authorities, if a constable does come asking questions.”
“But what sort of place is Firthley Hall?”
“It’s the country seat of the Earl of Firthley.”
“Earl? We’re going to an earl’s house?” Ellen couldn’t imagine such a thing.
“Firthley and I served in the army together. He met your husband several times, and he’s well-known for helping veterans and their families.”
The idea of going to an earl’s home was both exciting and alarming. She knew that many army officers had ties to the aristocracy, but Philip had always praised Captain Osborne for the consideration he showed his men, not a trait she would associate with an aristocrat. Not that she knew any aristocrats herself, but she could not imagine an earl being interested in helping her preserve her family. He might even think Toby would be better off with his wealthy grandfather.
“Do you know the e
arl well?” she asked.
“We were at Eton together and then in the military. Of course, I had meant to make a career of the army, and he joined up just to serve during the war, but I consider him my best friend.”
He finished his sandwich and looked over at the buggy. “I need to water the horse. Will you pack up the left-over food, in case we need something later?”
Ellen nodded. The Captain used his one arm to steady himself and shifted to his knees. He placed a foot flat on the blanket, and then stood. For a second his trousers pulled tightly against his nearest thigh, and she became aware of the heavy muscles bunching there. She normally did not notice such things about men, but his leg was so close and the muscles so prominent that she could not help but wonder if he had developed them to compensate for his missing arm.
Embarrassed at herself for ogling a man’s leg, Ellen hurriedly looked down at the blanket, and continued to do so as the Captain said, “I usually travel to Firthley by train or on horseback, so I didn’t realize how much longer it would take in a phaeton. I hope traveling most of the day won’t be too much for you or the boy.”
She began to repack the food. “Oh, we’ll be fine. I’m just sorry I’m taking so much of your time.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m glad to be of help.” He walked away.
She finished repacking the food and stood so she could shake any debris from the blanket. Discomfort nagged at her over the way she had stared at the Captain’s leg. Perhaps she had done it due to her surprise at his robust health. She had expected a man who had suffered the war injuries Captain Osborne sustained to be somewhat frail, but except for his unnaturally still, artificial arm, he was the picture of an English outdoorsman.
In fact, if it were not for the air of sadness that held his features in a near perpetual frown, he would be a handsome man. She had seen flashes of that handsomeness when politeness had forced him to smile briefly. But what did the poor man have to smile about? A woman he did not know had thrown herself and her child on his mercy, disrupted his work, and forced him to leave his home.
She had been so relieved when the Captain had offered to help her, that she had foolishly thought her problems were solved. Now, faced with traveling through the nearly deserted countryside with a man she did not know on the way to an earl’s estate, where she could not imagine being welcomed, it seemed her troubles were multiplying.
Chapter 3
Back in the buggy, Toby settled down, soon lowered his head onto Ellen’s lap, and went to sleep. The Captain tended to the reins with singular concentration. Ellen didn’t know if he feared talking might wake the child or if, like her, he simply could not think of anything to say. The only subject they had in common was Philip, but even two years after his death, Ellen could still lose her composure if she tried to talk about him. Philip had been the great love of her life, and waves of sadness swept over her whenever she thought of never seeing him again.
If she were to lose Toby too—well—she couldn’t bear to think about that.
The afternoon shadows lengthened until she began to wonder if they would reach their destination before nightfall. Finally, the buggy turned off the country lane and onto a private drive. At first it looked like they were going into woods, but then the trees thinned into a manicured park, and on a distant rise a great stone house was outlined by coral and orange rays from the setting sun.
Toby jerked his head up and blinked away sleep. “Where are we, mama?”
When she didn’t answer, the Captain said, “This is Firthley Hall.”
“Do people live here?”
“Yes, this is the home of the Earl and Countess of Firthley. They have a new baby, a niece, and a nephew.”
“Are we going to see them?”
Ellen finally found her voice. “These people might help us get to Aunt Sarah’s.”
“Why’d we get off the train?” he asked with honest confusion.
She put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze. “Don’t ask so many questions, Toby.”
The driveway split, one branch leading up to the front entry of the house and forming the upper limits of a circle of neatly trimmed grass with a fountain in the center of it. Water dribbled from a small stone bowl at the top down to two increasingly larger bowls and finally into a round pool. Ellen had spent most of her life living in cities and had only seen country estates from a great distance as she traveled with her parents or later her husband. This building seemed much too large to be the home for just one family.
Her misgivings about entering such an edifice must have shown on her face for the Captain looked at her with a frown as he said, “The earl is always eager to help veterans and their families. He won’t mind that I’ve brought you here.”
She found that hard to believe, but didn’t want to contradict him.
As he brought the phaeton to a stop in front of the stone steps that led up to a stone-covered platform, the front doors opened and a robust man in a black suit stepped out. “Captain Osborne, it’s good to see you again.”
“This is a spur-of-the-moment visit, Hackles. I hope the earl in is residence.”
“Yes, he is. Came from London last week.”
A taller, slimmer man, dressed in livery, rushed forward to assist first Toby and then Ellen from the buggy. Another man had stepped forward and taken hold of the horse’s bridle to make sure the animal did not move while the passengers alighted. The Captain joined Ellen and Toby, and gestured toward them as he spoke to the man in the black suit. “This is Mrs. Coyler and her son, Toby. We’ll be seeking shelter here for a night or two.”
“Coyler? Is she related to your sergeant in the brigade?”
“Yes, she’s his widow.”
A kindly smile softened the man’s face. “Welcome to Firthley Hall, ma’am. I knew your husband. He was a fine horseman.” Then he looked down at Toby. “And this young man is surely his son. I can see the resemblance.”
Toby’s back straightened. Ellen frequently talked to Toby about his father, so the boy knew to be proud of him.
The butler gestured toward the front door. “Come into the house. I’ll notify the earl that you’re here.”
Ellen looked back at the buggy, wondering if she should retrieve her violin case herself, but one of the footmen had already removed it from the rack, and seemed to be handling it carefully, so she took a firm grip on Toby’s hand and followed the butler into the house. The entry hall was a large cavern with black and white marble tiles on the floor and the colors of the setting sun coming through a glass-sided dome two stories above them.
A large man, with a cane in his hand and a black patch over one eye, limped toward them from the back of the hall. “Gerald, old man! This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Sorry I didn’t send any warning, but the need for this visit came up suddenly.”
The man looked at Ellen and Toby with a raised eyebrow.
The captain hurriedly added, “You remember Sergeant Coyler from my company, don’t you? This is his widow and his son, Toby. Mrs. Coyler, this is the Earl of Firthley.”
Ellen had never been introduced to an earl before. She didn’t know how to act. She bent her knees a bit and ducked her head. “How do you do? I hope we aren’t intruding.”
“I’ve come to expect such behavior from Gerald,” he said, but smiled pleasantly. Movement on the stairway distracted Ellen. A red-haired woman wearing a full-skirted dress of white and yellow stripped muslin rushed toward them. “The maid said we had guests. Why Gerald, what are you doing here?”
To Ellen’s surprise, the woman gave the Captain a quick hug, and then turned her attention to her other guests. Captain Osborne introduced them.
The countess said, “Welcome to Firthley Hall, Mrs. Coyler. We’ve finished tea, but let’s get you settled in a room and after you’ve had a chance to freshen up, I’ll see that you have refreshments.”
“Thank you, my lady, but we had food with us in the buggy.”
“Buggy?” The countess turned a questioning frown toward the captain. “Why didn’t you come by train? It’s so much faster?”
“Ah—we had a reason,” the captain said, “but it’s going to take some explanation. Maybe we should get settled first.”
The countess turned to a thin woman in a plain black dress, who had just hurried from the back of the hall, and they had a quick conversation about what rooms their guests might be most comfortable in. The countess turned back to Ellen and asked if it would be all right to put Toby in a room across from the nursery, since the two bedrooms that adjoined it were now occupied by her niece and nephew. Ellen replied that it would be better if she and Toby shared a room, since he was not accustomed to the house. A maid was assigned to lead them to a bedroom two floors up and just down the hall from the nursery.
* * * *
As Gerald watched Mrs. Coyler and Toby follow the maid up the grand, marble staircase, the countess said, “I was thinking you could have your usual room in the east wing, unless you want to be closer to Mrs. Coyler?”
Her coy smile clearly told him that she was hoping there was an attraction between Mrs. Coyler and himself. Catherine tried to match him up with an eligible woman every time he came to Firthley Hall.
“We met for the first time this morning, and she’s had to spend the rest of the day with me, so I imagine Mrs. Coyler will appreciate a little privacy.” He hoped that would clear away any misapprehension Catherine might have.
The earl and countess moved with him at a leisurely pace up the staircase. “I’m surprised you could get away at this time of year,” the earl said. “This must be your busy season.”
“Ahh—not really. I only have a few local boys for students right now. Mr. Samuels can handle them.”
The earl and countess exchanged puzzled looks. Gerald had talked so much about his big plans to have boarding students during the summer months that his friends surely knew something was wrong. He might as well tell the truth. “I’m not getting enough boarding students to make them worth the bother. In fact, I’m thinking of giving up the idea of teaching riding all together and concentrate on training horses instead.”
