“You do not still plan on attending Lord Townsend’s house party, do you?”
“Of course not!” Madeline exclaimed. “Even I know how foolish that would be. He does not care for me. He only…”
“Do you care for him?” Elsbeth asked, her watchful eyes once again gliding over Madeline’s face. “I never once heard you say so.”
“I don’t think I do,” Madeline admitted. “I guess it was only the idea of a future with him that I liked.”
“What about your husband?”
Staring at her friend, Madeline did not know what to say. After all, he did not want her. He had made that unmistakably clear.
“What is holding you back?” Elsbeth asked as she came to sit next to Madeline on the settee, her scarred hand gently settling on Madeline’s chilled one. “I truly believe that you need to give your marriage a chance, Madeline. What do you have to lose? So far, I’ve only heard good things about your husband. While he may be of humble origin, he has never acted in a shameful way and always carries himself with great composure.”
Madeline nodded. Elsbeth was right. He had impeccable manners, and she never would have thought him a soldier judging him by his behaviour alone. She could have easily believed him a high-born son. A true gentleman. Whatever that meant.
“In addition,” Elsbeth continued, “he seems to be a loyal friend to Lord Elton.”
At that, Madeline could not help but snort, “Is Lord Elton not rumoured to be a madman? Now, what does that say about my husband?”
A reproachful frown came to Elsbeth’s face. “For one, it means that your husband is the kind of man who would not abandon a friend in a time of need. And for another, it has become known that Lord Elton’s late uncle himself circulated these rumours to steal his nephew’s title.” Gently squeezing Madeline’s hand, Elsbeth smiled. “There is more to people than meets the eye, Madeline. You yourself should know. I doubt many people see beneath your own cheerful and carefree exterior.”
Meeting her friends’ eyes, Madeline sighed, grateful to have a friend who could. A friend who knew her. It was a priceless gift!
“You should give your husband a chance and find out who he truly is,” Elsbeth urged her, her voice insistent. “Go to him, Madeline. Go to him and find out.”
Madeline shook her head. “He does not want me. He made that very clear. He does not even seem to want my dowry.”
“Well, he must have had a reason for following you that night,” Elsbeth pointed out. “Aren’t you curious to find out why?”
Torn about what to do, Madeline hesitated, and yet, she could not deny that her heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing her husband again.
What a strange world this was!
***
“The saw my brother-in-law ordered will be delivered in a few weeks’ time,” Derek said to Mr. Thompson as the two of them came to stand before the one vacant outbuilding at Huntington House. “Until then, I suggest we use the boards from this barn to make repairs to your houses.”
Turning to him with slightly widened eyes, Mr. Thompson cleared his throat, the look on his face one of utter confusion. “You want us to take apart your barn?” he asked, glancing uphill at the small group of tenants approaching from their farms to the north. On Derek’s behest, Mr. Thompson had called them together, promising help for their own ramshackle houses.
Derek nodded. “As it stands empty, I have no need for it, and there is no reason to see the wood wasting away without it serving a purpose.” His gaze briefly shifted to the small group of weary men as they made their way slowly down the hill and toward them. “I know that they distrust me and that I will have to prove that I am a man true to my word,” he said to Mr. Thompson, his gaze unwavering, asking the man for his assistance. “I would ask you to act as a mediator between us. You know these men. They will listen to you.”
For a moment, Mr. Thompson’s gaze narrowed as though suspicion had claimed him once more. However, after a while, he nodded. “I shall see that the wood is distributed as it is needed, my lord. You needna worry. These are fine men. They willna touch anything that isna theirs.”
“I believe you misunderstand me,” Derek said with a slight smile on his face. “I’m not worried they might steal anything. After all, there’s not much to steal, is there?” Mr. Thompson’s lips twitched, betraying a touch of humour. “All I ask is that you meet me with an open mind and allow me to prove that I have your best interest at heart. If you can do that, then they might as well.”
Mr. Thompson inhaled deeply. Then he nodded. “I shall.”
“Thank you.”
As the group of tenants reached them, their faces holding a mixture of confusion and distrust, Mr. Thompson set about to making introductions. While the men were taken aback when Derek offered them his hand in greeting, their eyes bulged wide when he rolled up his sleeves and set to work alongside them. Together, they loosened board after board from the barn with the few tools Derek had managed to obtain. As the hours passed and Kara and his mother joined them outside, offering drink and food as refreshment, the mood slowly shifted from strained suspicion to careful camaraderie.
Glancing at the men who worked beside him, Derek felt a sense of pride he remembered from his days in the army. Standing together and working toward a common goal was a powerful way to bond men together. He had seen it before. Experienced it before. And he could only hope his experience would not fail him now.
By the time afternoon drew near, almost a complete wall was missing from the barn, leaving only the widely spaced poles that supported the roof and had held the boards in place.
“My lord, can we speak to ye?”
At the sound of Mr. Thompson’s voice, Derek slid the claw hammer into his belt and turned around, his gaze shifting from the bearded tenant to a younger man by his side. If Derek recalled correctly, his name was Finch.
“Mr. Thompson, Mr. Finch, what can I do for you?” he asked, noting the tension that held the younger man rigid as his eyes continually dropped to the ground. He was clearly uncomfortable. Derek only hoped it was something he could help him with.
Clasping a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Mr. Thompson stepped forward. “David here just told me,” he said quietly, but with courage in his voice, “that he willna be able to pay his rent this year.”
“Some,” Mr. Finch threw in hastily, his cheeks reddening. “But not in full.”
Mr. Thompson nodded. “He would ask ye if he?”
Lifting a hand, Derek nodded. “Don’t worry, Mr. Finch. I know that the past years have been hard, and I can see that all of you have done a remarkable job with the tools available to you. Pay what you can,” he said, knowing that the man’s pride would not allow him to do otherwise and not wishing to insult him, “and maybe after fixing up your own home, you can give me a hand with the remaining barn. What do you say?”
Mr. Finch’s face lit up in relief, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord.” Then he returned to the work at hand, his shoulders far more relaxed than before.
Slightly cringing at the man’s profuse gratitude, Derek turned back to Mr. Thompson and was relieved to see a spark of respect in the man’s eyes. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said to the older man. “I doubt Mr. Finch would have come to me on his own.”
Taciturn as always, Mr. Thompson merely nodded. Then he turned to help the other men load some of the boards onto a cart to transport them to the nearest farm. They would have to make a few trips. However, by nightfall, at least three farms would have the needed wood to make repairs to their walls and roofs. It was a start.