Disbelief and hope warred across the farmer's blunt face. "But what am I going to do now? How will I care for my family? It is winter."
The urge to help this man rushed through Sir Gerard. Against the backdrop of crackling flames, he wanted to encourage Tim's hope. He gazed beyond the crowd, seeking a solution. "The barn looks like it is still standing. Could you live in it until the new cottage is built?"
"The barn is all I got left."
"It would work. For a little while." Sir Gerard pushed through the crowd. With an uncertain hesitation, the people parted before him. "It would be a place to start."
Tim came, too, and his glance swept over the building. "But it is winter. How would me wife and son stay warm? I ain't risking another fire."
The enthusiasm for providing this help flared higher
within Sir Gerard even as the roar of the blaze behind him began to subside. He would not let such a small objection about the lack of a chimney prevent him from assisting one of his people in need.
Still pulling Silver Shadow, he strode towards the barn. Tim followed, and behind him the crowd trailed, eavesdropping on everything.
Muttering to himself, Sir Gerard studied the barn, seeking an answer to the problem. The weather-beaten barn sagged from old age like most of the buildings belonging to Hathaway Hall's lands, excepting only the baronet's own house. The flickering light displayed the splintering boards and the cracks in the wall. The cold wind could still whistle its way in. Such a structure might shelter the oxen as a windbreak, but people needed more than a pile of straw to stay warm.
Looking at it, he was reminded of Miss Courtney and her school constructed from a dilapidated warehouse. Were all the buildings of the area on the verge of falling down? He wished he had some of her ability to build something from nothing available now.
Then he was reminded of something else about her school. A broad grin spread across his face. "I've got the answer. You need a stove."
"A stove, sir?" Tim's puzzled look reflected the murmuring of the crowd.
Sir Gerard clapped the man heartily on the back. "It is the perfect solution. I will buy you a stove that will keep your family warm while you are living in the bam. Once your cottage is rebuilt, we can move it into your new home."
Hope sprang alive on the man's ruddy face. "Do you
The Spinster and the Wastrel 139
mean it, sir? You're not just speaking words to me, are you?"
"I mean it," Sir Gerard promised. No matter what he had to do, he was not going to disappoint this man, even if it required building the cottage with his own two hands.
Grabbing his benefactor's hand, Tun shook it as if he were priming a pump. "I'm your man, sir. For all the rest of me days. You don't know what this means to me."
It took some effort, but Sir Gerard managed to free his hand. "Perhaps I do," he said softly, but Tim did not hear him.
He was too busy proclaiming the goodness of Baronet Westcourt. Now the other men pushed forward, wanting to shake Sir Gerard's hand.
The attention embarrassed him, but there was no escape from the now friendly crowd. Several of them attempted to speak of their own problems.
"Not now," Sir Gerard said to those. "It has been a busy night, and everyone needs some rest. I want to help Tun here first. Bring your concerns to me later at Hathaway Hall."
A sudden crash diverted attention back to the fire. One of the cottage walls had fallen in, sending red sparks flying into the night. Some of them landed on the barn, but ready workers slapped the emerging flames into oblivion with their wet rags.
Sir Gerard stepped back while they worked, glad that they managed to save the barn. Already tonight he had promised more than he could pay for. He needed a stove immediately, a cottage quickly, and his own debts were due at the end of the month. This was already late February. He would not have the quarterly funds available until the end of March, and even that amount would not cover
all that he now owed. Yet, Tim Farmer and his family could not live in a barn without that stove for the six weeks or more of winter remaining.
Distracted, he ran his hand through his hair. Silver Shadow nudged him, and he spoke quietly to his horse, "What am I going to do, old boy? These people are counting on me. I want to help them. I promised it, but how am I going to keep that promise?"
The horse nickered as if he understood the concern lacing his master's voice.
"You saw how he depends upon my position for relief. How they all do. If only I could get that money." He gave a bitter laugh. "Who am I kidding? Even if I had the quarter funds, it would not be enough to cover my word."
Patting the horse's neck, he continued, "You do not have a very honorable owner. It is a good thing you are only a horse and don't know any better."
As if to belie his words, Silver Shadow nudged him with such strength that Sir Gerard nearly lost his balance.
"Hey!" he cried. "I apologize. I did not mean to offend you. Guess you know a bit more than I realized."
Silver Shadow shook his mane and stamped his hoof.
Sir Gerard chuckled. "I'm glad I'm forgiven." Then he grew serious again. "I am in deep trouble this time. I need the money, and I certainly will not go to that moneylender again."
The horse's snort announced his agreement with his master's opinion.
"If not money-lenders, where else can a man obtain money? Who has some?"
Rubbing his hand along Silver Shadow's nose, Sir Gerard watched the fire. The immediate threat from the sparks had been thwarted, and now the flames finished consum-
ing their prize. The crowd also gazed at the destruction of the cottage, but there was an easing of the tension, as if they, too, realized the immediate battle was over.
Yes, their fight was finished, but Sir Gerard knew his war still continued. The people relied on him to provide, and he did not have any solutions.
Silver Shadow's breath warmed his fingers, returning feeling to Sir Gerard's cold, numbed hand. He mulled over the people who had wealth. They acquired it through lands and other business interests. He had title and land, but still no ready cash. Only money-lenders and bankers had that.
"Bankers," he breathed in sudden realization. "Banks have the money. I can go to a bank for the money I need. I no longer must deal with money-lenders. I am respectable enough for a mortgage—after all I own property."
In his happiness, he hugged his horse with so much enthusiasm that Silver Shadow neighed nervously. Sir Gerard just laughed. He had found his solution. He would place a mortgage on his land. He could pay it off from the quarter rents. No longer would he have debts hanging over his head like a gallow's noose. Despite the smoke pall lingering over the yard, the dawning of the day appeared very bright to Sir Gerard.
The sound of an approaching carriage turned everyone's attention towards the new arrival. A sturdy chestnut pulled a landau into the farmyard. Annette Courtney held the reins. By her side, a blanket covered a lumpy pile.
Sir Gerard strolled to the carriage and bowed. "Good morning, Miss Courtney. You are certainly out early this morning."
Her frank gaze swept over him in astonishment. "Sir Gerard! I am surprised to see you here."
He helped her down from her seat, feeling the curve of her waist as his hands went around her. "When one of my tenants is in trouble, certainly you would expect me to help?"
Stepping back from him, she straightened her gloves. "I may expect such duties from a baronet, but I have not experienced them in the past."
He smiled at her. "I told you before, I am not my uncle."
"So you have said. I am very glad you are not." She cast a glance up at him, and he spotted the humor glinting in her eyes.
He realized she flirted with him like any London lady, and it amazed him. An answering merriment arose within him. He wanted to stay beside her, to continue the art of coquetry that sparked between them. "We covered why I am here, but what brings you out so early?"
"I brought some supplies
to assist the Farmer family." She gestured towards the lumpy blanket pile. "I have some jellies and a dressed chicken for them. Of course, they are going to need these blankets, too."
Admiration rushed through him. "Very practical. They do need food and blankets to get through these next few days. But how did you manage to get a chicken ready so quickly?"
"Good housekeeping. A smart woman uses the winter cold to keep her meat from spoiling."
"You mean the chicken was to be your dinner today?"
She shrugged. "Lucille and I really do not eat a whole chicken in one meal."
More and more he recognized what a jewel this woman was. "Then I must insist that both of you join me tonight for dinner."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That is not necessary."
"Yes, it is. I am trying to watch out for the people who depend upon me, which includes Upper Brampton village. You reside there, thus placing you under my care. Will you let me make certain you do not go hungry?"
At her blush, he savored the raillery between them even more. He stepped closer.
She took an unsteady breath and turned to toss the blanket aside, revealing the basket filled with jars and the towel-wrapped chicken. Several tightly rolled blankets surrounded the basket to keep it steady on the seat. A light wisp of steam wavered from the crock of hot soup. It smelled like a good thick chicken broth, confirming to Sir Gerard that Annette would never water down a gift of food.
'Tim Farmer," she called. "I have brought these items for you and your family."
Sir Gerard knew she was avoiding a response to his dinner offer, but he did not press the issue. Instead, he stood silently by the landau, watching as she distributed her goods to the distressed family. The man's profuse thanks and his wife's gratitude could have been overwhelming, but Annette responded graciously.
Her capable hands distributed the largesse. In addition to the supplies on the seat, she had stored items on the floor. These proved to be more foodstuffs, along with dishes and cooking utensils. Neighbors helped to unload everything, but Sir Gerard could not help wondering if Annette had stacked everything in the carriage by herself. Once he had said she did everything for these people; now he saw her generosity in action.
He watched as she spoke with Tun Farmer. "These
items should tide you over for a few days. I will be back by then with more." She glanced at the smoldering cottage. "Do you know what you are going to do?"
A bright grin carved Tim's stern features. "We're going to live in the barn."
"The barn?" She assessed it with a quick glance. "Yes, I can see that is the only solution for now, but you will need many more blankets to keep warm."
"The baronet, he has it all worked out," Tim informed her.
"He does?"
"We are going to live in the barn with a stove, but only for a bit. Then he is going to build me a new cottage— with a working chimney this time."
She glanced over at Sir Gerard, the disbelieving question plain on her face.
Sir Gerard answered, "Yes, I will do all that."
She blinked as if in disbelief, but her smile was filled with approval. "You will? How good of you! How very good of you."
Sir Gerard heard the lilting note of approval in her voice. Like music, it struck a responding chord within him. He liked gaining her regard and wanted to linger in it longer. "Come with me. Please."
Grasping her hand, he tugged her away from the landau and the crowd. She went with him willingly. When they were a little ways apart from everyone else, he stopped. Silver Shadow's reins remained looped around his master's arm.
"What is it?" she asked.
He faced her, suddenly at a loss for words. She stood very straight in her serviceable wool coat with a practical bonnet tied firmly on her head. Wisps of hair strayed loose
underneath it after her early morning ride. A dark-colored dress peeked beneath the hem of her coat. Heavy leather gloves protected her hands when driving. He had seen those same capable hands at work relieving the misery of others. Annette Courtney was not a society woman, but her spirit shone through her plain trappings like a white light. Probably no one else recognized it.
But he did.
And it drew him to her like an enchantment. He wanted to tarry near her. Almost without realizing it, he said, "Annette, I want to marry you."
Her jaw dropped open. "What?"
"I want to marry you," he repeated, knowing even as he spoke that it was the truth.
She was not the type of woman he had ever planned to wed, yet he now knew how small-minded his list of wifely attributes had been. This was the woman he wanted. Her heart was so big, so full of love for all, that he wanted to share in it for the rest of his life.
"Why on earth would you want to marry me?"
Even as he fumbled for the words to express his deep admiration, the bewilderment in her eyes hardened to anger.
Annette wrenched her hand free from his grasp. "I understand now, sir! And it is a despicable plan! Unworthy of you."
He stared at her. "What plan?"
'To use these people's tragedy in such a manner. I understand your scheme," she declared. "First you make promises of help you are unable to finance, and then you expect to gain control of the fortune through marriage to me. You thought to use my concern for your tenants to force my agreement to your proposal."
"Force? I had no intention of forcing you to agree." The accusation stung more acutely because he had not even considered the money when he proposed. His misreading of her clear generosity had lured him to speak rashly. "It was an honest proposal made to a woman I thought I admired."
"Admired?" There was a wealth of disbelief in her voice.
"Yes, admired," he said bitterly. "Although at present I could not state why. The money has so twisted your perspective that you see everything through it."
She paled. "No, I do not want to believe that."
"Then how else do you explain how my proposal leads you to immediately suspect a sly trick?"
He spun around to remount Silver Shadow, but she reached out a hand to stay him.
"What can I suppose except a trick? You are not the first man to recently offer for me. I am well aware which of my features attracts them, and it is a fiscal one not a physical one. Even at our first meeting, you promised to regain the fortune." Her voice softened. "I believe you meant that."
"I did mean it." Turning away from the horse, he looked at her. "Yet, this morning I forgot about the money. My offer is a sincere one."
She attempted to smile. "Made to a woman you admired?"
"One whom I still do." Realizing his words spoke truly, he took her hand in his.
Her rueful gaze met his squarely. "Please forgive my mistake."
"You well know that I am very familiar with making
mistakes. I appreciate the opportunity to not be the transgressor for a change."
She laughed at his rejoinder.
At her humor, the hurt of her rejection eased. "I still expect to see you and Mrs. Downes at Hathaway Hall tonight for dinner."
"You are very generous, but—"
"I do not want to hear any excuses."
When she opened her mouth in dispute, he leaned towards her. She became motionless, waiting. He silenced her protest with a kiss. She stood still within his embrace, and he felt her lips cool and smooth beneath his. Her touch lured him onwards. Unable to stop himself, he deepened the kiss, trying to understand this woman who attracted him so. What was it about her that fascinated him? Attempts at logic disappeared when she began to return his kiss. He pulled her closer as if his grasp could hold all of her soul and felt her body mold to his.
Silver Shadow's head butted him in the back, staggering his balance and recalling him to his whereabouts. Looking up, but still keeping his arm around Annette, Sir Gerard realized how quiet the farmyard had become. Except for the muted burning roar from the smoldering fire and the stamp of his horse's hooves, no sound broke the silence
. The crowd watched them with great interest.
"It seems we have an audience," he told her.
"Oh, no!" She flung her hands before her face in mortified horror. "What have I done?"
"Shall we do it again?" He reached for her, but Annette pushed him away.
"I have never been so humiliated."
"Don't be," he assured her and put one arm around her.
"How can I face them?"
"With confidence. Like this." Turning to the crowd, he swept off his hat and bowed deeply to them. His arm around her shoulders caused her to join his gesture. A scattering of claps and shouts replied. The sounds crescen-doed when he bowed to Annette and kissed her hand. Jauntily replacing his hat, he mounted Silver Shadow. "I shall expect to see you tonight with your answer to my proposal."
After a wink at her, he guided his horse away from the farmyard.
(Ofoaplez (S/evesi
Confusion filled Annette as she watched Sir Gerard trot gaily away. Humor, embarrassment, and exasperation whirled within her. Upon which emotion should she fasten? It infuriated her at how that man could mix her up.
Resolutely she turned her gaze away from watching his departure. She would not act like some lovesick fool! Yet when she faced the avidly curious eyes of her neighbors, she knew that was exactly the label they pinned on her.
No one had moved, but approving grins and sly smiles painted their faces. An unwanted flush stole over her. To counteract it, she called out in a dictatorial manner, "I still have some supplies here to be unloaded!"
Her abruptness did not bother the crowd, and they moved to help. If anything, the smirks grew more pronounced, just like the heat she could feel radiating from her face.
"Mrs. Farmer," she said, "you should point out where you want these items set. It would save time rearranging later."
"Thank you, Miss Courtney. I'll do that."
Feeling even more embarrassed at telling such a com-
The spinster and the wastrel Page 12
