“I rather think your presence could be beneficial to her. We all try to make her life as peaceful as possible, but I suspect she could use a little female companionship closer to her own age.” Concern that appeared more than that of a doctor for a patient simmered behind his hazel eyes when he spoke of the other woman.
“I would like that. Do you think that when she is recovered we could take a turn in the garden together? Under your supervision, perhaps?” Assuming the earl allowed Dawn to keep her position as gardener, she could be at the estate for some time. The prospect of a friend was too alluring to reject, even if the other woman was mad.
The doctor’s smile widened. “I think that is a grand idea. I will suggest it to Lettie.” He touched the brim of his hat and whistled as he walked toward the house.
Hector emerged from the stables, leading a solidly built cob with a harness about its shoulders.
“Is it far to the village?” she asked as he hitched the horse to the traces of the cart.
“Not very. It’s only just past the station where I picked you up the other day.” He did up the last buckle.
Mouse jumped into the back of the cart and took up his position behind the seat. Hector took Dawn’s hand and helped her climb up. As the horse trotted down the driveway, a raven circled overhead and then spun off toward the taller trees. Dawn had never seen so many of the large black birds. In Whetstone she’d only seen the one, as the built up houses and activity drove larger animals to quieter parts of the countryside.
Through the tree foliage, Cumberland’s high peaks dotted the horizon. The horse trotted past the railway station and the yellow and red office. The village lay not much farther along the road from the station. Houses were clustered closer together and a multitude of voices rose in the distance. One building painted bright white appeared to be a schoolhouse, with numerous children playing and laughing on the surrounding grass.
Houses were made of local stone, most two storeys high, and people walked and chatted along the road. Some gardens spilled from front lawns onto the edge of the road. Many villagers recognised Hector and called out and waved as he passed. It seemed a picturesque place, but there were unkempt hedges and spent flower heads that made Dawn itch for secateurs.
“Is there much industry out here to keep people employed?” she asked.
“Enough for us. Alysblud has the textile factory, started by the Seton family as soon as those fangled machines came along fifty years or so ago. It employs most of the locals and gives the area a better return than sending our fleeces to another town.” He eased back on the reins, and the cob slowed to a steady walk.
They passed a house set well back off the road with a low cast iron fence out front. Hector gestured up the cobbled pathway. “That’s Dr Day’s house. He sees patients there, even does some surgery in one of the back rooms.”
Dawn peered at the house, trying to discern something about the doctor in the plain garden visible from the road. The path was edged with lavender and lady’s mantle, the two intertwined in a soft display of grey, lavender, and palest yellow. A spreading cherry was the sole tree in the front lawn. Given its lack of any set fruit, it was probably an ornamental specimen, planted for its showy display of spring flowers. The lawn needed to be mowed, and the cherry could do with a prune to open up its branches and stop some rubbing against each other.
“Is he married?” The question slipped out, not because she had any interest in the doctor, but she always imagined a country doctor needed a pragmatic wife to handle calls when he wasn’t home.
Hector barked a short laugh and Mouse seemed to snigger. “No, not him. He gave his heart to a lass long ago, but I doubt she even realises.”
“How sad.” She wondered what woman held the good doctor’s heart and what was wrong with him that she never reciprocated his feelings.
“He lives in hope, that one, because the heart wants what it wants. Nothing we can do about it.” The horse plodded on down the lane and Hector pulled him to a halt at a large open square.
The middle of the square was marked by a large fountain. The plinth stone in the middle of the water held aloft a young woman. A bird sat on her shoulder, and she poured water from a tipped urn back into the basin at her feet. Around the base of the fountain gathered a number of young men. Some played chess or backgammon. Others indulged in a round of cards.
“The lads wanting work all wait here. They’ll all want to lend a hand at Ravenswing. You’ll be spoiled for choice.” Hector winked as he helped her down.
A blush crept up Dawn’s neck. So many young men, how would she ever choose just four?
9
Following the principle that many hands make light work, Dawn decided to take a liberty with the earl’s permission to hire a few men. She hoped he concurred with her math that nearly a dozen men would do the work quicker than just four employed for longer. Plus, it meant the garden might be wrested under control in a few weeks, rather than months. If she had a limited allotment of time to achieve her goal, then she wanted to make as much progress as possible before she found herself unemployed and homeless.
Once the men were given their orders to report to the estate the following day, Dawn accompanied Hector on a few errands. He stopped at the blacksmith and then the post office. She was growing used to the retainer’s grim appearance and enjoyed the humour that lurked under his cadaver-like face.
He emerged from the post office with a small parcel, and a toothless grin lit his face.
“What do you have there?” Dawn asked. The way he clutched the paper-wrapped object piqued her curiosity.
“Mail for Nurse Hatton from her niece. I’m going to demand a kiss before I hand it over.” Then his grin grew even larger until deep lines radiated from the corners of his eyes.
Dawn found herself smiling at the aged romance and wondered if he would be rewarded or swatted. Chores done for the morning, Hector turned the cob and cart back toward Ravenswing. On the road to the estate, they passed Dr Day leaving on the handsome chestnut. Both horses halted in the shade created by tall trees on either side of the track. Boughs touched above their heads in a leafy umbrella.
“How is Lady Letitia today, and did you have an opportunity to broach the possibility of a walk in the garden?” Dawn asked once the usual pleasantries were out of the way. Against her better judgement, hope flared in her chest that she might find a friend or companion in the troubled woman. She had never possessed a close woman friend and always wondered what it might be like to have someone to share whispered confidences.
A frown flitted across the doctor’s brow, and he wiped it away with one hand. “She will need a few more days, Miss Uxbridge. The change in her routine has her somewhat agitated. Let her become accustomed to your presence at the estate first.”
“Oh. I understand.” Disappointment plunged through Dawn. The earl’s sister truly did not want her on the property, and Dawn would continue her existence without a friend.
“Time, Miss Uxbridge. Just give her a little time.” He doffed his hat and told the gelding to walk on.
Dawn let out a sigh. Mouse nudged against her from behind and she stroked his head.
“Miss Lettie hasn’t got a bad bone in her body. We’d all like to see her restored to the laughing girl she once was.” Hector kept his eyes on the road ahead, and his words were matter-of-fact but with a faint tinge of sadness.
“What happened to her?” Dawn always thought mad people were born that way, but had some circumstance driven Lady Letitia to the brink of insanity?
Hector huffed. “She was always a gentle soul, loved both her brothers. Losing Lord Julian was too much for her.”
There was something Dawn could grasp and understand. Grief twisted in both one’s body and mind. She rested her cheek on the top of Mouse’s head. She wanted to ask how Lord Julian died and whether it was so gruesome that it drove his younger sister mad, but that wasn’t the polite thing to ask. She picked a different question instead.