Chapter 18
Only ten days since their arrival, Vanessa could almost collect eggs from the chicken coop without gagging. She’d never be able to tolerate that disgusting smell. Mr. Weathers insisted he keep the task of cleaning the coop daily, thank God! How these three elderly people got along here without help was a mystery.
She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Aunt Helena had been right that taking on some of the unfamiliar household chores would be “improving.” Even with the stench of the coop, she’d rather be outdoors in the morning sun than endlessly dusting knickknacks. She might even offer to beat the rugs if she could do it out here, with the verdant emerald fields in sight. With the chickens all squawking like eager gossips, she didn’t hear the hoofbeats until they were almost upon her. She tried to blow stray locks away from her face, to no avail, as she straightened. She must look a fright, but Granny Thorton hadn’t exactly been in a condition to welcome company. Perhaps she could duck behind the coop for a while. She sighed. No, with Aunt Helena gone to Bradford for supplies, she should go and help Mrs. Weathers greet any guests.
“Good day, Miss Vanessa!”
She jumped at the greeting from that deep, energetic voice. Oh, no, no, no. Although they’d only met once, she recognized that voice. And even without turning around, she could picture the handsome dark-haired lad attached to that voice. She was a tiny bit pleased that he remembered her name, although she should probably tell him to call her Miss Addison to be proper. Still, she liked how her name sounded in his lilting accent.
“Good morning, Mr. Lanfield. You’re out roaming early today.”
“Nay, it’s just an average morning. Most days, I’m out on my horse at first light.”
She’d had to adjust quickly to the rhythm and schedule of farm life when they arrived. On their third day here, Mrs. Weathers had come knocking at dawn, muttering something about pampered delicate flowers. Since then, Vanessa had made sure to throw herself into helping around the house. She began falling asleep exhausted soon after nightfall and waking while it was still dark.
“Your family must depend on you for quite a lot,” she observed.
He shrugged, although a glimmer of pride crossed his face, and he said, “We all do our part, don’t we? Need any help?” He dismounted with surprising grace.
“I’ve just finished. Anyway, I’m sure you have more pressing matters than attending to me and my little chores.”
“I wouldn’t mind. There’s no chore too small on a farm. And, if I may say, you looked a bit out of place when we first met. I hope you’re doing better now.”
Her face heated at his reminder of her humiliating episode with the hungry sheep. She bristled at his judgment of her.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she bit out as politely as she could. She lifted her chin and added, “I’d like to see how you would handle the teeming chaos of London, which is a world away from these bucolic fields.”
“Bucolic. I’ll have to remember that one.” His too-full lips quirked, and amusement lit his hazel eyes.
What was she doing, noticing his eyes? She adored Billy’s pale gray eyes, the color of burgeoning smoke.
“I’ll grant you, miss, I’d likely be a fish suffocating on land in the great city. I’ve never been farther abroad than Leeds, which I’d consider unbearably crowded. One advantage of any city, though, is that there are lots more pretty girls, like you.” Then he winked at her. Actually winked!
She couldn’t suppress a giggle at his ridiculous flirtation, and she was mightily relieved to hear him laugh as well.
“That was poorly done of me, wasn’t it?”
“I did expect a bit more finesse.” What was she doing? Stop flirting! “Now I’m certain you have more important things to do than stand here amusing me.”
He nodded and doffed his cap. “In fact, I’m here to deliver some packages from my mother to your, well, great-grandmother, I suppose. We’ve always just called her the Grand-dame.”
“Oh, I like that! It sounds so dignified.”
He snorted and then looked repentant. “Er, she’s deeply respected. She just, er, doesn’t stand on ceremony, if you catch my meaning. She’s not one to value dignity over enjoyment. I still remember how she’d come fish with us when my siblings and I were little.”
“You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you?”
“She’s like family”
“Well, come on then. I’ll give these to Mrs. Weathers and see if the Grand-dame is up for a visitor.”
It took little time to deliver the eggs, along with a pie the young man’s mother had sent along.
“Tell her that her Prince Hal is here,” he called out as Vanessa left the kitchen.
She turned impulsively and replied, “I’m sure you’re not as manipulative as all that.”
“Only because I’ve lacked the opportunity,” he shot back with another wink. His playfulness was so different from the calculated teasing and innuendo of the boys she and her friends encountered at home. He didn’t seem at all predatory. As she made her way up the stairs, she heard him compliment Mrs. Weathers on her pretty ribbons and heard the old woman’s answering giggle.
Gran’s face lit up when she announced the young Mr. Lanfield. It was a joy to see her so revived. After helping her with a hasty toilette, she went to get “Prince Hal” and left them chatting fondly. When she returned almost an hour later with a tray of tea and pie slices, she found them both belly-laughing. He immediately rose and took the tray from her.
“May I ask what was so amusing?” she asked.
Gran dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and said, “Oh, dearie, it would be too difficult to explain. Just us being silly.”
Before she realized it, young Lanfield had placed the tray on the bureau and already delivered tea and pie to Gran’s bedside. As soon as Gran was settled, he said, “I should be going. You need your rest. I’m so pleased to see you are on the mend. Everyone at home will be relieved to hear it.”
The beautiful new blanket draping Gran’s bed distracted her. “What a piece of work!” she said in awe. “Is this from your mother?”
“Aye, well, it’s more of a family affair,” he replied, a blush creeping up his neck. “The wool is from our flock, sheared by our own hands. Mother and the bairns at home did all the spinning. Mother handled the dyeing.” He ticked off each step with his fingers. “And all of us took turns with the knitting when we could.”
“You knit?” Vanessa said, surprised.
“’Course I do. It comes natural to shepherds maybe. Everyone I know carries a sack or basket of knitting with him. I’ve always needles and yarn with me in the fields. You know what they say about idle hands and all that.”
“This cover is spectacular! My mother and her friends do a great deal of handiwork with yarn and thread, and they would all marvel at this.”
“Naught but a blanket,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Mother does much more intricate lace and such. That’s the really impressive stuff.”
“I expect your mother would get along famously with mine!”
Something about her mother triggered a drastic change in him. It was as if a wall had suddenly been erected between them. His expression went blank, his posture stiff.
“It’d be futile to speculate on that now, wouldn’t it?” His jaw was clenched. “I’d not wish for my mother to suffer the company of those Thorton girls—” He stopped midsentence, as if just then realizing where he was, and his face reddened alarmingly. He moved to take Gran’s hand briefly and said to her, “I’ll visit again soon, Grand-dame. You know I can’t stay away from your bonny face.”
Gently, Gran patted his arm and said, “Get on with your chores, Hal. You’re a good lad.” But before he could walk away, she added, “Just watch what you say about us Thorton girls, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a bow of his head.
Vanessa went to see him out, but he ran down the stairs too fast for her to keep up. She heard him call out a farewell to Mrs. Weathers as he rushed out the back door.
She couldn’t wait to return to London.