by Jo Ann Brown
“I like to stop in and see how the earl fares between attacks of gout. He seems to be doing much better.”
“He has not had a bout in almost a month. Previously they seemed to come one right after another.” She clasped Gil’s hand, so the little boy did not scurry away.
“That is excellent news. I assume he is following the food restrictions I have suggested.”
“With reluctance.” She smiled. “Mrs. Ford has been very creative with our meals, but Father misses meat and fish. He complains each time a course is served without either. However, I believe he finds that easier to understand than why he should not use tincture of willow bark to fight the pain.”
“It seems to make gout worse. Winter is coming, so it should be easier for you to obtain ice to ease his discomfort.”
“Our ice house has provided what he needs. With a late spring and early winter, we should be able to replenish what has been used.”
“I am glad to hear that.” He hesitated, glanced at the tip of his boots, then asked, “Would you like to walk with me along the cove?”
“To discuss Father’s care further?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Caroline knew hesitating on her answer might suggest she was not pleased at the idea of spending time with him. “As you can see, I had planned to take the children on an outing. Gil has been teasing to go to the shop in the village where he can get a treat.”
“Excellent,” he said, even though his expression discounted his answer. “I will walk with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly not.”
Pulling Joy in the wagon behind her and holding Gil’s hand, Caroline went with Mr. Hockbridge through the gate and on to the narrow road leading to the village on the cove. Already candles were visible in windows, because dark came early in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Caroline asked his advice for easing Joy’s difficulties with her first tooth, and he thought her idea for a piece of hard candy on a stick might be the very thing to help the tooth come out. More than once, he seemed to be on the edge of changing the subject, but he did not. She wondered what he had on his mind.
The collection of cottages flanked the streets in the village set on the cove’s inner curve. Two lengths of ragged cliffs curled around, one inside the other to protect the beach from storms. Drying seaweed and other debris marked the high tide on the sand and stones. The fishermen’s boats were drawn up beyond that dark line.
Caroline slowed as they reached the street where the doctor lived. Bidding him a good day, she thought once more, he had something else he wished to say. Again he said only he hoped she would have the same. He began to walk away, and she raised her hand to wave farewell. He turned on his heel, came back and took her hand, bowing over it with perfect manners. His fingers caressed her palm, but she was unsure if he did so on purpose, or it was nothing more than him releasing her hand.
“I hope I shall see you again soon, my lady,” he said.
“You are always welcome at Cothaire.”
With a flicker of something that looked like vexation, he nodded and bid her a good day.
How odd! Usually Mr. Hockbridge was straightforward and said what he meant.
Caroline walked to her sister-in-law’s small shop, which provided items the villagers could not make or trade for themselves. Gil threw open the door and ran in. The shelves ringing the interior were filled with items, from glass jars to sugar and flour, but Gil had eyes only for the collection of candy in a basket on the wood counter.
He pulled up a stool so he could see over the top of the counter. Peggy Smith, Elisabeth’s young assistant, came over to discuss the important issue of which piece he would select. Dark-haired Peggy had been on the sand the day the children were rescued and brought ashore. A shy girl, she delighted in talking with the youngsters.
After Caroline lifted Joy from her wagon, she followed Gil across the shop. She had no chance to say as much as a greeting before Elisabeth came around the counter.
“I saw the doctor with you. Is everyone well at Cothaire?” she asked.
“Yes. He came to check on Father.” Caroline frowned. “Though I must say he acted oddly.”
“I agree. I saw him bowing over your hand before he took his leave. And in public!” Elisabeth laughed lightly. “By nightfall, everyone in Porthlowen will be prattling about how you and the doctor are courting.”
“I cannot halt silly tongues from wagging. Let them think what they wish.”
“’Tis not the gossips I worry about. ’Tis Mr. Hockbridge. Does he think you are courting?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
Caroline wanted to reply she was, but the truth was that Mr. Hockbridge’s words and actions today could be explained easily if he believed he was beginning a courtship with her. She must find a way to let him know as quickly and as gently as possible that she was the wrong woman to woo. Even a doctor would want a son to inherit his business.
This was a complication she did not need, and she had no idea how to put an end to his courtship without putting an end to their friendship.
Chapter Six
“You made a complete jumble of your chances with the earl’s daughter.” Yelland chuckled as he leaned one shoulder on the doorjamb at the entrance to the engine house. He wore a superior smile, revealing several missing teeth.
“Is that so?” Jacob gave one more tug with the wrench, then stood as the beam engine started moving again. “I think that is it, Pym.”
From a floor above where he knelt, he heard Pym’s faint reply. He leaned back, watching the beam engine in its steady dance through the building, the metal arm catching the light from the rising sun.
Refusing to be ignored, the mine captain said, “While you were fixing this machine, she was out walking with the village doctor. Arm in arm, all cozy-like.”
“And you saw this with your own two eyes?”
Yelland faltered, then mumbled, “Well, no.” He rallied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I heard it from someone who saw them with his own eyes.”
“Therefore, you have no idea what the circumstances truly were.” Jacob did not want to discuss Lady Caroline with Yelland.
“But she was with the doctor.”
Jacob sighed. Yelland clearly did not intend to give up on the subject. “That is not unusual. Lady Caroline cares for the people of Porthlowen. She might have been going to visit someone who was ill.”
“With a babe and a boy in tow?”
Keeping his expression bland, he said, “You are asking me to speculate on gossip, and I will not, especially as neither you nor I witnessed the events.”
“Thought you would want to know, seeing as how you have been visiting Cothaire and the lady.” He shrugged. “If you don’t care, then why should anyone else?”
“Exactly.”
His terse answer cracked Yelland’s arrogance. The mine captain had not expected Jacob to agree with him. It was a skill Jacob had learned when dealing with recalcitrant students and his family. During their youth, his brother, Emery, had often refused to give up on an argument even when it clearly should have been over. As soon as he could, Jacob would concur with one of Emery’s less outrageous statements, and the quarrel would have to end.
Yelland opened his mouth once, then twice and a third time before he stamped out. The door slammed so hard in his wake the wood panel vibrated.
Jacob paid it no mind. Yelland was becoming more troublesome with each passing day, always looking for the opportunity to incite a brangle with Jacob or to cause foment among the miners. Why? Jacob had no answer.
As he turned to see the beam rocking overhead, he frowned. The many breakdowns raised his suspicions. He looked past the rail. The pumps brought up water from the mine shaft agai
n. The system was simple. To have it fail over and over was infeasible.
Unless someone was damaging it intentionally to create trouble.
A troublemaker like Yelland, perhaps.
Pushing away from the rail, he turned to his assistant. “We did it again, Pym. You have a real nose for finding what ails this engine.”
The shorter man preened. “Glad to be of help.”
“Nobody knows this engine as well as you and I do.” He clapped Pym on the shoulder.
“Not Yelland, that is for sure.” Pym’s mouth contorted as he spat out the mine captain’s name. “No matter how much he loiters around here, he will never be able to learn everything about this beam engine.”
“I agree, but I also want you to start training someone else in keeping the beam engine going.” When his assistant’s face blanched, he added, “Not Yelland. Find someone with an interest in machinery.”
Did Pym suspect the mine captain was involved in the engine’s failures, too? Jacob wanted to ask, but, until he had more information, he needed to keep his suspicions to himself.
“But I can handle her as well as anyone else,” Pym argued. “Better!”
Jacob did not smile at how Pym always called the engine “her.” Instead, he nodded as he picked up a discarded cloth and wiped his hands on it. He threw the rag in the barrel with the other trash. It was tempting to think of doing the same with Yelland.
“Let me know if there are any more problems,” he said, grabbing his greatcoat.
“Are you returning to Warrick Hall?”
He was about to say yes, then shook his head. “I need to stop at Cothaire first.” He owed Lady Caroline an apology for missing his lesson yesterday.
Pym nodded before turning to watch the beam engine.
As he pulled on his coat, Jacob realized he needed to change out of his clothes that were covered with stains from his long hours of work. He could not appear before an earl’s daughter covered with oil and sweat.
He knew better, even before his first lesson in deportment. Yes, that was the reason he wanted to look his best when he appeared at Cothaire. He wanted to believe it, but could not ignore how something gnawed at him each time he imagined Lady Caroline and the doctor strolling with only a toddler and an infant for chaperones. Not that they would have a chance to do anything untoward, because they were on the oft-traveled path between Cothaire and the village.
He was being absurd. Lady Caroline was a diamond of birth, and she would not do something to risk her and her family’s reputations. He must not allow Yelland’s words to poison his mind.
* * *
The house was busy with its usual routine when Caroline reached the ground floor after leaving Gil in the nursery to have breakfast with Bertie. When Irene had offered to look after Joy as well, Caroline had agreed. Trying to eat while keeping small fingers off her plate was a futile exercise. Aromas of breakfast urged her to hurry to the breakfast-parlor, and she gave into temptation. Something to eat and a steaming cup of coffee would fortify her for the day ahead of her.
No one else was in the breakfast-parlor. She was glad to see the windows now had glass in them. The room had been dark with wood put over the windows in an attempt to keep out the cold November air. Food waited on the sideboard, steaming and smelling delicious. As she entered, a footman appeared to fill a cup with coffee and place it where she usually sat each morning.
She selected what she wanted from the covered servers. Eggs, sausage and some toast. Perhaps a bit of jam, as well. As a young woman, she had starved herself in order to look like the illustrations in pattern books. She had given up before she met her husband, and John had never complained she was not as thin as a stick. To own the truth, her clothes would soon need to be taken in if she kept losing weight. Chasing after a baby who could crawl unbelievably fast and a little boy who was even quicker had melted inches off her.
She had seated herself at the table when Baricoat opened the door and walked in. He no longer carried his left arm at a stiff angle, and she was glad it had healed despite his insistence he would not take any time away from his duties. After one attempt to suggest he rest, the household had given up, knowing he found the very idea he could not fulfill his duties while he had breath in his body inconceivable.
“Lord Warrick wishes to speak with you, my lady,” he said.
Caroline hid her shock. “Show him in.”
If the baron had come to apologize, she would remind him the lessons had been his idea. He was welcome to change his mind, but she expected him to let her know. Her whole afternoon had been planned around his visit.
And if he had been here, I would not be the source of speculation about Mr. Hockbridge courting me.
She silenced the thought. She could not blame Lord Warrick for others’ misconceptions...or even her own. Had Mr. Hockbridge intended his escorting her and the children to the village to be the first step in a courtship? No matter how many times she replayed the events in her mind, she could not be certain. If he truly thought she was interested in him, she must let him know immediately he was mistaken. To speak of it before she was certain, however, could lead to embarrassment for both of them.
The doctor vanished from her mind when Lord Warrick appeared in the doorway. Her breath caught as she took in the sight of him. His navy blue coat was so dark it appeared black. The yellow waistcoat he wore beneath it was embroidered with white and green in an intricate pattern. Pale cream nankeen breeches ended in the brightly polished boots that rose to his knees. From his well-tied cravat to the tips of his toes, he looked every inch the peer he was.
The very handsome peer he was.
Realizing she held a piece of toast partway between her plate and her mouth, she lowered it. She looked away, aghast. She should not be staring at him like some awestruck miss gawping at her first soirée.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Of course. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Rising, as a footman poured a cup and set it in front of Lord Warrick, she went to the sideboard and spooned a generous portion of food on to a plate. She let the steam from the serving pieces wash up over her face. If she appeared as flushed as she felt, she could blame the food’s heat.
She returned to the table and handed him the plate. After he thanked her, she sat again. “Please, sit.” She smiled her appreciation to a footman who replaced her cup of coffee with a fresh one. “Go ahead and eat, my lord. I suspect you have not broken your fast yet this morning.”
He bowed his head for a moment to say grace, then reached for a fork and pushed a generous portion of the eggs on to a piece of toast. Taking a large bite, he repeated the motions twice more in rapid succession. He closed his eyes in obvious appreciation. Opening them, he hesitated as he was about to take another bite.
“Do not let me keep you from eating,” Caroline said with a smile. “With two brothers, I am accustomed to hearty appetites.”
“I did not come here to eat but to apologize for failing to arrive for my first lesson yesterday. I hope you understood why from the message I sent.”
“Message? I received no message from you.”
He set his fork beside his plate. “You didn’t? I asked for a messenger to come here and explain why I would not be able to call as we had planned. I should have checked and made sure the messenger was sent. My only excuse is the same as the reason you were supposed to hear from the messenger—the beam engine continues to fail.”
“More problems with your new steam engine?”
“Both Pym, my assistant, and I have plenty of knowledge of such engines, but neither of us have been able to ascertain why it fails to run as it should. We fix each problem after we find it. I am thankful that Pym has a real ability to pinpoint the trouble.”
She heard his frus
tration in every word. Lord Warrick was not averse to hard work. He could have left the day-to-day running of the mines to the miners, as his uncle had, but instead, he spent long hours, week after week, ensuring their safety.
“Do you think you have solved the problem now?” she asked.
“One disruption does not seem related to another. Random failures, but nothing bad enough for me to make the decision to replace the unit.” He sighed. “That would be a last resort, requiring me to close the mine for at least a month while a new steam engine is shipped here and installed. I find...” Emotions flashed through his eyes so quickly she could not gauge them.
“You find what?”
“That I am prattling as if I had enough tongue for two sets of teeth.” He shook his head. “I despise silly clichés, but it fits me today.”
“But what did you find, my lord?” she asked again.
“If this is a lesson in manners, you can change the subject as you did with the Winwood twins at church. I know I am obsessed with machines and how they function or don’t. I find most people fall asleep if I talk too long about my work.”
“But you should talk about it. Father taught us it did not matter which topics interested us. Whatever they are, we should pursue learning more about them, no matter what.”
A sincere smile edged across his expressive face. “You are very kind, my lady.”
“Not simply kind. I am being honest. Who knows what I might learn if I listen to you? The teacher can be a student, as well.”
“True.” He began eating again, then looked up. “I hope your father is well.”
“Why do you ask? Oh, you heard about Mr. Hockbridge walking the children and me to the village.” She shook her head with a wry smile. “Even though I have lived my whole life in Porthlowen, I am amazed at the speed of gossip. Mr. Hockbridge was here to check on Father, who is doing well, and—”
“You do not owe me an explanation.”
