Nora sat back on her heels to ease the aching in her knees. She felt as though she’d been scrubbing floors for an eternity. Her back was sore and exhaustion pulled at every one of her muscles. She’d been up late the night before cleaning one of the bedrooms so she and Perseus had someplace to sleep, then she’d risen with the sun to start on the rest of the house.
After tucking a few stray hairs underneath the kerchief she wore on her head, she rinsed her rag in the nearby bucket. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, loud enough to raise Perseus’s head from where he lay by the kitchen table.
“Did you hear that, boy?” She laughed.
They’d already consumed the few cans of food Nora had found in the cupboards last night, which meant nothing to eat this morning. She needed to go into the village to buy groceries, but she didn’t want to leave before Colin came to get Perseus. Surely he wouldn’t allow the dog to stay indefinitely, though Nora would miss having Perseus with her. The strangeness of sleeping in someone else’s house in a foreign country hadn’t felt so overwhelming with a dog at her bedside.
“All this cleaning not only makes me hungry,” she muttered to Perseus, “but warm, too.” She shed her sweater and wiped the dampness of her forehead with the back of her hand.
In need of a breeze, she went to the back door and propped it open with a rock she found outside. Cool air filtered into the room, bringing a sigh of relief to her lips. Perseus climbed to his feet and trotted past her into the yard.
Nora lifted her gaze to the mountains. They were like imperial queens arrayed in emerald satin and opal jewels. Never had she seen peaks so tall. They left her feeling dwarfed, and yet comforted by their height. Would they one day feel familiar, like the fields and trees back home in Iowa?
She returned to her rag and bucket to start on the hallway floor. Once she finished there, she only had the parlor and dining room to clean before the entire cottage was livable. A noise at the back door brought her head up. Perseus had returned inside. Nora smiled at him, but the gesture turned to a frown when she caught sight of the muddy paw prints he’d left in his wake.
“Perseus, you brute,” she scolded mildly as she tossed her rag down.
She shook her head and chuckled, but the sound quickly became a strangled sob at the thought of rewashing the kitchen floor. Nora leaned her head back against the nearby wall and shut her eyes. An image of life back home rose sharply into her mind, almost as if she were there. She could see herself seated at the piano, playing and singing, while Oscar listened, the smell of baking bread permeating the air.
Tears stung her tired eyelids. She’d expected things to be hard, at least in the beginning. She hadn’t expected this feeling of complete fatigue and loneliness—one she hadn’t experienced since the deaths of her parents when she’d been left to run the farm by herself.
Perseus licked her face, prompting Nora to open her eyes. “I know you’re sorry,” she said, scratching behind his ears. “I’m just so very tired.” She released a heavy sigh. “Not a chance you could clean up your own mess and I could crawl back into bed for, say, three days?”
The dog cocked his head as if contemplating her request. Nora couldn’t help laughing. How wonderful to have a companion again, even for a short time.
“All right, boy.” She climbed to her feet and shooed him back out into the yard. “All is forgiven, if you stay outside.”
Back in the kitchen, she surveyed the muddy tracks, her hands on her hips. “I guess this floor will be twice as clean.” She dragged her bucket into the kitchen and commenced scrubbing away the paw prints.
The repetitious movement kept her hands busy but freed her mind to compose a letter to Livy, one she would write out later. She must tell her friend about finding the cottage intact, despite the obvious repairs and cleaning required to make it livable again. Then there was the beauty of the mountains and the lake to describe, and the fact that she currently had no sheep in her field.
What about Colin Ashby? How would she describe him to Livy? Nora stopped scrubbing and sat back, tallying up a list in her head. Handsome, kind, charming, mysterious.
“That won’t do,” she murmured to herself. Livy would take one look at those words and start urging Nora to get to know the man better.
She couldn’t fault her dearest friend for wanting her to have a similar life to the one Livy enjoyed: a wonderful husband, a precocious little girl, and a baby on the way. But the death of a sibling was different than the death of a sweetheart. Livy couldn’t understand why Nora had given up her dreams of marriage and a family at Tom’s death. No amount of explaining could change that.
Perhaps she’d leave off mentioning Colin in her first letter from England.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and pulled her to her feet. Could it be the man she’d been thinking about? Nora jerked the kerchief from her head and stuffed the worn cloth into her apron pocket. If only she’d been able to accomplish more cleaning before Colin’s arrival. She’d hoped to show him a much-improved cottage and not the dusty, dirty one he’d viewed with mild disdain last night.
The person knocked again. Nora hurried down the hall and opened the door. Instead of Colin, a short, buxom woman greeted her, a bright smile on her round cheeks and a covered dish in her hands.
“Hello there.” Her accent sounded more pronounced than Colin’s. “You’d be Nora.”
“Uh…yes, hello.” Nora shook her head in surprise. How did the woman know her name? Had Colin sent her?
“I’m Bess Tuttle. Me and my children live down the lane. Next house you come to.” She tipped her head in the general direction. “I’ve a cottage pie for you, just come from the oven. Didn’t think there was much in the way of food here, not since Henry died. Quite sad we were. He married my mother’s sister—God rest their souls.” She placed a hand on her bosom and lifted her eyes upward for a brief moment. “Henry ’twas a good man and uncle, though a bit gruff at times. Can’t exactly blame him, though, as I’m sure you know. What with losing all his kin, saving our family.”
Bess didn’t pause for breath until she’d finished her welcoming speech. Nora gaped at her. Which of the woman’s many revelations should she respond to first? Her gaze dropped to the pie and she felt instant relief.
“Thank you, for the pie. That was very kind. Won’t you come in?”
Bess handed Nora the dish and swept past her into the house. “Sorry state of things.” She made a tsking noise in her throat as she glanced at the still dusty dining room and parlor.
“Actually, I’ve done quite a bit of—”
The woman went on as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “My Mary and I came over a few days after Henry passed, you see, and did our best to clean up. Not that he was overly untidy, mind you.” She walked into the parlor and ran her hand over the dark fabric of the settee. “I would’ve come several times more, but Mr. Green refused. Once I relinquished the key to him, he wouldn’t give it back. He’s a stodgy one.”
Nora followed Bess down the hall, as if she were the guest rather than the other way around, and set the pie on the kitchen table. She wished she had some tea. Wasn’t that what good British hostesses offered their guests? Embarrassment prickled her skin, making her feel even warmer than before. At home, she would have talked to Bess on the porch, maybe given her a glass of lemonade. But here, she felt out of place, a foreigner in a stranger’s house.
If Bess noticed her discomfort, she didn’t let on. Instead she marched around the room, clucking over the tidiness. “I haven’t seen this room so clean in years. You’ve done good job of putting it to rights, you have.” She glanced out the open back door. “Don’t you worry about your sheep neither. My Jack’s been looking out for them. He’s a right, good young man, he is.”
Nora recalled Colin mentioning something about a Jack Tuttle. “Please thank him for me.”
The woman shooed away her gratitude. “I suspect you can thank him yourself, if you’ve a mind to. We’d like to have you down to our place for supper now and again.”
“That’s very kind—”
“Jack had hoped Henry would give the place to him. Henry has more sheep than we do, but that’s before we’d heard he meant to give the farm to you.” She fanned her face with her hand as if overheated, though she kept right on smiling. “Why look there? If it isn’t Perseus? What’s the Ashbys’ dog doing here and without Mr. Ashby?”
Nora followed her gaze to see the dog lolling back toward the house, his tail wagging. How to explain? “Well, Colin…I mean Mr. Ashby offered to let the dog stay with me last night. I had a dog back at home, you see…”
“Yes, my Mary told me all about Mr. Ashby walking you down here last night. She works up at Elmthwaite Hall as a maid, she does.” Bess’s curved face beamed with obvious pride. “Watch yourself with Mr. Ashby, though. A real charmer, he can be. Though he hasn’t been the same since his brother died—none of them have. Christian Ashby was supposed to inherit the baronet’s title and the estate, but now Colin will. Many a wealthy lady has her sights set on him, and none too subtly either, says Mary. He’ll marry well, if Sir Edward Ashby has anything to do with it.”
Nora’s cheeks flooded with heat. She busied herself with brushing imaginary crumbs into the sink, so Bess wouldn’t see her mortified expression. She’d been here less than a day and already her neighbors suspected her of setting her cap at the baronet’s son?
Of course, she’d enjoyed her brief time with Colin and appreciated his help, but he was only being polite. A man such as he would never be romantically interested in an orphaned farm girl such as herself. As Bess had confirmed, he would marry a rich, refined young lady, and Nora, thankfully, didn’t fit either one of those descriptions.
“Now let me have a look at you, love.”
Nora reluctantly turned around, hoping the woman wouldn’t notice the extra color on her face. Bess’s brunette head barely reached Nora’s shoulder, but she felt like a child beneath her neighbor’s intense scrutiny.
After a long moment of silence—the first since Bess had shown up at her door—the woman smiled, her head bobbing with approval. “You are the mirror image of your mum, when she was this age.”
Nora’s own smile froze in place, then lowered into a puzzled frown. “How could you possibly know my mother? She never traveled outside of the United States.”
“Henry’s daughter Eleanor was my cousin,” Bess prattled on, oblivious to Nora’s mounting confusion. “She and I spent many happy hours together as young girls. I’d know her daughter anywhere.”
“I’m sorry but my mother’s name is Grace, not Eleanor. Henry was my great-uncle on my father’s side.”
Bess’s cheery expression faded. “That’s what they told you? Ah, poor Eleanor. Though it’s probably for the best.”
The hairs on the back of Nora’s neck rose at Bess’s strange explanation. Her earlier warmth dissipated as a chill swept up her spine. What was the woman talking about? “I don’t understand.” Nora shivered and folded her arms. “Who told me what?”
Bess paled. Her wide eyes darted about like a frightened animal’s. “L-look at me going on about silly notions that don’t mean ne’er a thing now. Just the ramblings of an old woman.” She laughed but the sound resonated with hollowness. Nora hardly considered her to be old; Bess looked to be in her early forties. “Well, I suppose I ought to be heading home now.”
Nora couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling still churning in her stomach. What was Bess hiding? She wanted to press the woman with more questions, but she wasn’t sure she would get any real answers. Perhaps later, when she knew Bess better, she could learn more. Although that didn’t mean she couldn’t do a little investigating of her own in the meantime. Colin might know what Bess’s strange story was all about.
“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Tuttle.” She infused the words with genuine gratitude. Thanks to the kind woman, Nora could continue cleaning on a full stomach.
The blatant relief on Bess’s face told Nora the older woman thought the odd turn in the conversation had been forgotten. “Oh no, love. Call me ‘Bess’ or ‘Auntie Bess,’ same as everyone else. Nobody’s called me ‘Mrs. Tuttle’ since I lost my husband five years ago.” She let herself out the back door. Nora trailed her outside. “When will we be seeing you for supper?”
“Um...”
“How’s tomorrow night? Then you can meet my brood—all seven of them.” She chortled as though she’d made a joke. “Don’t know if I can hold Mary and the twins off much longer than that. They want to hear all about America.”
A vine of panic wrapped itself tightly around Nora at the thought of sharing a meal with a room full of strangers. Though the idea of eating alone, without Perseus, held even less appeal. “I would love to join you,” she heard herself say.
“Good. Now be sure to eat that pie.” Bess wagged a finger at her. “I’ve got my work cut out to fatten you up, I have.” With that, she disappeared around the corner of the cottage, still muttering under her breath.
Nora rested her shoulder against the doorjamb and released a tired chuckle. In Bess’s absence, the cottage echoed with its earlier quiet. Perseus meandered to the door. He sat at Nora’s feet, his head tipped to the side again as he watched her.
“I think I may have made a friend.” Nora smiled down at the dog.
Another unusual friend, she thought wryly. But a friend nonetheless. The bleakness she’d felt earlier had disappeared in the wake of Bess’s kindness and happy chatter.
The scent of warm food teased Nora from behind. She pushed away from the door, feeling famished. She’d tackle the rest of her work soon enough, but right now, Bess’s pie smelled too heavenly to ignore a minute longer.
* * *
Colin halted beside the lane leading to Henry Lewis’s cottage. He’d put off coming to see Nora, choosing instead to fly until well past lunch. The question he’d been debating all morning still plagued him. Could he continue to befriend her knowing what his father expected him to do where she and her sheep farm were concerned?
He jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and released a low growl. If only he’d managed to escape earlier, before Sir Edward had found him. Though Colin knew he wouldn’t have been able to avoid his father forever. Eventually Sir Edward would have sat him down and repeated the same pleading request to save Elmthwaite. One that felt like an echo of Christian’s from that fated day three summers before.
A lad with a fishing pole propped against one shoulder rambled up the road toward Colin. Headed to the north side of the lake, no doubt. The boy threw Colin a funny look as he passed, likely curious as to why the baronet’s son was standing unmoving along the side of the road.
“You’re being daft,” he muttered to himself as he strode up the lane. He had to collect Christian’s dog after all. Perseus would be awaiting their daily walk.
The cottage came into view a few moments later. The disrepair was every bit as visible as it had been the night before, and yet the house held an air of life about it today. Perhaps it was the way the glass panes shone in the sunshine, clear evidence someone had been at work inside.
Colin marched to the front door and knocked. As he waited for Nora to answer, he shifted his weight from one polished shoe to the other, staring at the hard-packed earth.
He caught sight of the door swinging open and lifted his head. Nora wore a faded blue dress beneath her apron, which accentuated the sapphire color in her eyes. Eyes that appeared to brighten with pleasure upon seeing him. Guilt rendered his mouth dry.
“Mr. Ashby.” She smiled, the gesture enhancing the delicate features of her face. A very pretty face.
“I’m here for Perseus,” he announced. Nora’s eyes widened at his slightly curt tone and he stifled a groan of regret. He’d never persuade her to do anything this way.
Clearing his throat, he modified his request. “What I mean is, if you no longer require the use of my dog, I’d like to take him on his walk.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She stepped back from the door. “Come in, and I’ll find him. He’s out back.”
Colin ducked inside and his jaw slackened with surprise. If not for Nora’s presence, he would have guessed he’d entered the wrong cottage. The sheets had been removed from the furniture and not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere. The two front rooms, though simply furnished, appeared tidy and respectable.
“Look at this.” He waved his hand to encompass the dining room, hallway, and parlor.
“What do you think?” she asked, her question full of anticipation.
“What do I think?” he repeated. “It’s a thousand times improved.” He glanced down to find her earlier smile had deepened at his praise, revealing a tiny dimple beside her full mouth. He hadn’t noticed it last night. A speck of what appeared to be gravy sat next to the bewitching dimple.
“You…have something there.” He pointed at the speck.
Her cheeks turned pink as she swiped at the corner of her mouth with her fingers. Instead of removing the spot, though, she smeared it.
“Allow me.” Colin wet the tip of his thumb and ran it from the corner of her mouth to her chin, wiping away the gravy. Her lips twitched at his touch, but she remained still. He allowed his finger to linger against her smooth, warm skin, his attention caught up in the blue-green recesses of her large eyes. What was it about them that captivated him?
“Must be some of Bess Tuttle’s cottage pie.” She broke free of Colin’s touch to shut the door, disrupting whatever pull of attraction he’d felt.
Colin mentally shook himself. He was supposed to be charming her, not the other way around. “You met Auntie Bess?”
Nora nodded and moved down the hallway toward the kitchen. “She brought me a pie and invited me to supper tomorrow night.”
“All the while conversing with herself without taking a breath,” Colin joked as he followed her into the kitchen.
Nora’s lips pressed together as if she were trying not to laugh. “She was very kind.” Her voice choked with barely hidden amusement. Colin grinned in triumph.
She stepped to the back door and called for Perseus. The dog tramped inside. On seeing Colin, Perseus wagged his tail and came to sit in front of him.
“Ready for your walk, ol’ boy?” Colin scratched behind the dog’s ears.
Nora began putting away the dishes stacked in several neat piles on the counter. “Where do you usually walk?”
“Around the lake or on the fell. Would you care to join us?”
“I would,” she said, looking back over her shoulder, “but I need to buy groceries in the village and order a new windowpane.”
“Right.”
Now what? Colin thought with mounting frustration. His time with her was moving to a rapid end. Or was it? “Perhaps Perseus and I could walk somewhere else today. We could show you Larksbeck, if you don’t mind us tagging along.” He slipped his hands back into his pockets. Did he sound too eager?
“That would be nice.” She put away the last of the plates into the cupboard and removed her apron. “Give me a minute to fix this hair of mine and I’ll be ready.” She faced the window as she began unpinning her hair.
Colin moved into the hallway, intent on waiting out front, but he stopped when he caught sight of Nora’s unfettered hair. Free from its pins, it fell in red waves to the middle of her back. He stared, mesmerized, at the beauty of it. Would those tresses feel as soft and silky as they looked, slipping through his fingers?
As Nora began to rearrange her hair into a knot, Colin realized she could turn at any moment and discover him gawking. He beat a hasty and rather silent retreat to the front door, Perseus on his heels.
Outside, Colin took a cleansing breath of fresh air. He needed to clear his head, remain focused on his task, and not succumb to Nora’s beautiful face or hair. It wasn’t just her beauty he was struggling to ignore, though. Nora wasn’t trying to capture his fancy, like Lady Josephine or Lady Sophia. She was simply being herself, and that was a quality he found as attractive as her person. If only the future of Elmthwaite weren’t riding on his getting to know her and persuading her to leave.
Nora exited the cottage, her hair pinned back into place. A sweater covered her shoulders, despite the rare sunshine. She’d acclimate to the weather soon enough. Or perhaps she wouldn’t, if Colin’s father had his way. Regret flourished anew inside him, but Colin had grown rather good at ignoring unpleasant feelings.
“To Larksbeck, m’lady.” He waved her forward with a slight bow.
Perseus bounded ahead of them as they fell into step and turned south toward Larksbeck.
“It’s very beautiful here,” Nora’s appraising gaze roamed from one side of the valley to the other. “Everything is so green.”
“Isn’t Iowa green?”
“Yes, but in a different way.”
For a moment he wondered about this place where she came from, what it must look like, how different it would be from the mountains and lake he’d always known. “Did you enjoy living there?”
Nora nodded. “Very much.”
“Yet you chose to leave it, for the unknown.”
He hadn’t voiced it as a question, but she answered with a soft “yes.”
She didn’t elaborate further, and Colin decided he didn’t want to press her for a confession of what she’d left behind in America or what she might wish to return to. He’d try a different tactic.
“I hope you’ll find the village satisfactory.” He tipped his head in the direction of the rooftops. “Larksbeck has only a few shops, and without the railway at our doorstep, we tend to be a bit isolated from the rest of the country.”
“I don’t mind. My hometown wasn’t very large.”
Colin threw her a tight smile. He’d been foolish to think he could easily dissuade a capable woman like Nora with a few well-placed reminders about her home in the States or the isolation of their tiny valley. Perhaps the villagers, with their typical reticence toward strangers, would succeed in convincing Nora that she didn’t want to stay.
They crossed the bridge at the outskirts of the village a few minutes later. “We have the apothecary ahead on the left,” he informed her. “Then Bagley’s grocery shop. The doctor, blacksmith, and The Blea Crown are all on the opposite side of the street.”
“The Blea Crown?”
Colin pointed to the combination pub and inn. “Blea means blue. Up the road, you’ll find the church and the parish priest’s home.”
“It’s very quaint,” Nora said, her eyes showing her pleasure.
Colin tried to see the whitewashed buildings as she did. He and his family had spent little time in Larksbeck the last decade. As a child he’d roamed here often, but once he’d returned from university, his trips to the village became more and more infrequent.
“Where to first, Miss Lewis?”
She studied the shops. “I need food, of course, but I’m also out of soap. Would the grocers or the apothecary be the better choice for that?”
“If I remember right, the apothecary’s wife, Mrs. Smith, used to concoct all sorts of scented fragrances and such.”
“The apothecary it is then.”
Colin and Perseus escorted her to the shop. She opened the door for herself, without waiting for him to do so, giving Colin a whiff of perfume and other chemicals from inside. Telling Perseus to stay, Colin joined Nora in the tiny shop. Mrs. Smith, herself, came bustling in from the back room, where her husband fashioned the needed prescriptions.
“What may I do—” She stopped short when she caught sight of Nora, one hand rising to her heart. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Eleanor Lewis had just stepped into our shop.”
Nora’s face drained of color and her mouth tightened. What about the woman’s reaction bothered her? If anything, she was friendlier than Colin had ever seen. “I’m Nora Lewis. From—”
“America,” Mrs. Smith finished for her. “I heard Henry meant to have someone contact you in the States after he died. I’m glad to see someone did.” Her gaze flicked to Colin and she gave him a pert nod. “Mr. Ashby.” When she turned to Nora again, she was all smiles. “What may I get you today, Miss Lewis? I hope you’re not feeling poorly.”
Colin remained near the door as Nora, once more composed, explained her need for some soap. He told himself it didn’t matter if Mrs. Smith had instantly warmed to her. The grocer, Mr. Bagley, was a shrewd businessman and not inclined to friendliness where strangers were concerned. There was still time—and people—to persuade Nora that Larksbeck and her sheep farm, in particular, weren’t right for her.
After today, Colin wouldn’t need to do more than suggest the idea of leaving before Nora would be gone and Elmthwaite would be saved. Why then did he feel less than satisfied with keeping his promise to Christian?
“Ready?” he asked when Nora approached the door with a wrapped package and a loaf of bread.
“Yes.” Over her shoulder, she called out, “Thank you, Mrs. Smith. It was nice to meet you.”
“Lovely to meet you, too.”
Before Colin could get the door for her, Nora let herself outside. He swallowed a frown as he followed, reminding himself of how independent American women could be. Or perhaps Nora had been doing things on her own for so long, she didn’t realize there were others who might want to help.
“The grocers next?” he asked.
“Yes. Can you believe she gave me some of her freshly baked bread?” She sniffed the wrapped loaf as they headed toward the grocers. “Mmm. Smell this,” she murmured, extending the loaf to him.
Colin didn’t want to, not in the middle of the village street, but her enthusiastic expression wasn’t easily ignored. What sort of woman didn’t bat an eye at a rickety old cottage and hard work and yet became almost giddy at the scent of fresh bread? Colin had the sudden sense he wasn’t the only one hiding behind a façade. He suspected a wellspring of feeling and passion lay beneath Nora’s pragmatic personality.
To please her, he lowered his nose and inhaled the bread’s scent. The smell immediately conjured up memories of slipping below stairs, to the kitchen, where Mrs. Quincy would let him sneak bits of raw dough for him and Christian. His brother, of course, would never do something so sly himself, but he didn’t mind if Colin shared the spoils.
“It smells delicious,” he admitted.
“I’ve tried to make bread as well as my mother did, but it never turns out like hers. But this.” She inhaled the bread’s aroma again. “I may have to ask Mrs. Smith her secret.”
Colin edged ahead as they neared the grocers so he could hold the door open for her. Nora looked momentarily surprised by the chivalrous act, but then she smiled in gratitude and entered the shop. Her smile, and dimple, stirred a strange sensation in Colin’s gut and filled him with a strong desire to help her again, and again.
With a frown, he dismissed the feeling. Being polite was the least he could do for Nora before she had to face the crotchety Mr. Bagley.
Colin trailed Nora to the long counter, where the grocer sat reading a newspaper. It all but hid the old man’s face. Only his gray hair and wrinkled forehead poked above the top of the paper.
“If you will note the time on the clock above the door,” Mr. Bagley stated in a harsh voice, “you will see I close the shop in ten minutes and not a minute later. And before you ask, I do not have any ladies’ shoes and cannot say when the next shipment will come.”
“I don’t need shoes.” Nora set her bread and soap on the counter. “I do need…” She withdrew a list from her dress pocket and began naming off the items. The paper sagged lower with each one. “Lastly, I’m wondering if you might be able to order me a new windowpane. One of mine is cracked.”
Mr. Bagley threw down his paper, his mouth open. Colin waited for the man’s biting retort to Nora’s long list of requests at such a late hour, but it never came. The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Eleanor?”
Colin looked from the grocer to Nora and found her face growing white again. The references to Henry’s daughter made her uncomfortable. Colin had been too little to know Eleanor himself, but those who did clearly thought Nora looked very much like her. He hadn’t counted on the distant family connection to work against his father’s plans.
“No. My name is Nora. I’m Henry Lewis’s gr—”
“I’m Nathaniel Bagley, miss. At your service.” He reached out to take her list. “Let’s see if we can’t find you those things you need.”
“What about the time?” Nora threw a glance at the clock. Her tone sounded sincere enough, but Colin detected a glint of teasing in her eyes. He bit back a smile.
“Never mind that.” Mr. Bagley came around the counter. “If you’ll take that basket there, and follow me, Miss Lewis.”
Mr. Bagley moved about the shop with the agility of a much younger man, all the while shooting wide-eyed looks at Nora. She caught Colin watching them and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. He responded with a puzzled shake of his head. He’d never seen the grocer act so affable. As a child, Colin had been rather intimidated by the gruff man who scowled each time Colin came in to buy a piece of candy.
When they returned to the counter, Nora’s basket was nearly overflowing with items. Mr. Bagley rang up the purchases at the cash register, promising to order Nora a new windowpane tomorrow. “It should be here in a week,” he said as she handed him her money.
“Thank you for your help.”
“Do you sing, Miss Lewis?”
Nora appeared a bit taken back by the man’s sudden question, but she answered in the affirmative. “I very much enjoy singing.”
Mr. Bagley beamed. “I remember Eleanor’s beautiful soprano voice. Just what we need. I direct the church’s choir, you see, and we would love to have you join us. We practice Saturday mornings.”
“I’d like that, Mr. Bagley.”
Colin swallowed a groan. The more Nora became a part of life in the village, the less likely she was to want to leave.
“We could do with more male voices, as well.” Mr. Bagley shot a pointed look at Colin, acknowledging him for the first time since he and Nora had entered the shop.
“Do you sing?” Nora spun to face him.
“Not as well as I can fly.”
Mr. Bagley shook his head. “Don’t let him fool you, Miss Lewis. The Ashby boys have sung together since the cradle. Nary a Christmas passed that we didn’t hear them sing at the village celebration.”
Colin fixed his attention on the canned goods lining the shelves behind the man. Memories of singing with Christian flitted through his mind and cut through his heart. Mr. Bagley had failed to mention there was only one Ashby boy now. Colin hadn’t bothered attending the village’s Christmas celebration last year—it hadn’t seemed right without Christian.
He sensed Nora watching him. Did she perceive the pain he concealed behind his carefree demeanor?
“I’ll see if I can persuade him,” she told Mr. Bagley.
The grocer smiled with self-satisfaction at Colin. With great effort, he maintained a neutral expression, instead of the smug grin he wanted to shoot back at the man. Enchanting as Nora may be, she would never convince him to sing, let alone step foot inside a church.
Nora began gathering up her purchases. She clearly had more than she could carry, though she didn’t ask for his assistance.
“Allow me.” Colin removed an armful of items from her grip so she could pick up what was left on the counter. He stacked the loaf of bread on top of the pile and moved to the door. By shifting his load, he managed to free one hand to open the door for Nora.
Mr. Bagley’s cheerful “good day” followed them outside—a far cry from his tone of twenty minutes before. Colin shook his head, amazed and frustrated at both shopkeepers’ reactions to Nora. How was he supposed to convince her she needed to give up the sheep farm if everyone in Larksbeck continued welcoming her with open arms?
“Is there anything else you need?”
Nora glanced around the village. “Not this time.”
Colin called for Perseus as he and Nora set off toward the bridge. The dog scampered past them, eager to explore the road ahead. Colin almost envied the canine’s freedom.
Would he feel freer if he gave up trying to be something he wasn’t, to please his father? If he refused to marry someone like Lady Sophia and stood back while Elmthwaite Hall sank deeper into debt? The possibility was tantalizing, but not when he calculated the cost. His freedom in exchange for Christian’s eternal disappointment and the lost opportunity to make his father proud. No, he wouldn’t trade those.
“Something wrong?”
Nora’s question pulled Colin from his pensive thoughts. He rearranged his frown into a lazy smile. “What did you think of the village?” he asked, sidestepping her inquiry.
“I like it very much.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen either shopkeeper so intent on making a customer happy.”
“Only because they think I look like Eleanor Lewis.” She frowned, her expression troubled. “What do you know about her?”
“She was Old Man Lewis’s daughter, which would make her your father’s cousin.”
“Anything else?” she pressed.
Colin searched his memory for what he’d heard about Eleanor over the years. “I believe she married a chap from the next village over. He died shortly before their daughter was born. Eleanor followed him not long afterward.”
“What happened to the baby?”
“I believe Henry gave her to some relatives to raise as their own.”
“Interesting.” She shivered as though cold, then seemed to brush off whatever had caused her chill. “My father rarely mentioned his relatives in England. He never visited them, though we did get a letter now and then. His father, my grandfather, moved to America as a young man.” Nora shifted her load. “How is Eleanor related to Auntie Bess?”
“Bess is Eleanor’s cousin. Their mothers were sisters.”
She gave a thoughtful nod. “I remember Bess saying something like that…among the other hundred and one things she told me this morning.”
Colin laughed outright at her joke. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to tease her back, he stopped walking.
Nora continued a few paces more before she turned around. “What?”
“Was that a jest I heard from your lips, Miss Lewis?”
Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Yes, Mr. Ashby, I believe it was.”
“Colin.”
“I’m sorry?”
“If I’m going to carry your groceries all the way home—a first for me, I might add.” He could tell she was trying not to smile. “I think you ought to drop the ‘Mr. Ashby’ and call me ‘Colin’ instead. Makes me feel less foolish,” he added in a feigned tone of annoyance. “If it weren’t for my pride as a gentleman…”
“Colin,” she said as if testing the word on her tongue. Colin instantly regretted his idea. Hearing her feminine and very American voice intone his name gave him more pleasure than he cared to admit. “Then call me Nora, please.”
“I will…Nora.”
Drat. He liked saying her given name as much as he liked hearing her say his. A change of subject was definitely in order. “What were we discussing before we stopped?”
She shot him a mischievous look. “I believe it was how foolish you feel carrying my groceries.”
Dash it all but she was beautiful, especially with that impish look in her greenish-blue eyes as she spouted off her witty remarks. Why did he want to convince her to leave?
Reminding himself of his duty, his promise, Colin reined in his feelings of attraction and forged up the road. “I remember now. You were maligning poor Bess Tuttle.”
“I wasn’t doing no such—”
“Speaking of dear Auntie Bess. Here comes her oldest son.” The lanky frame of Jack Tuttle moved down the road in their direction. The young man’s timely appearance was both a blessing and a curse. Colin needed some distance from Nora to clear his head, and yet he loathed someone else disrupting their privacy.
“Hello there,” Jack said as the three of them met in the middle of the lane. “I reckon you must be Nora. Me mum told me all about you.” He swept off his woolen cap, revealing his copper hair, and ogled Nora. “I’m Jack Tuttle.”
“The one who’s been watching my sheep?” Nora extended her hand to him. “I certainly appreciate you’re stepping in like that, Mr. Tuttle.”
“Call me Jack,” he said, clasping her hand.
Colin’s jaw tightened when the younger man didn’t release Nora’s grip right away.
“I’m guessing you know Mr. Ashby.” Nora turned to Colin.
“Tuttle,” Colin said with a tip of his head.
“Ashby,” Jack ground out.
Colin suppressed a grin. The chap was still sore over the past, but the arrogant pup had gotten what he deserved. Jack had been entirely too cocky as a teenager. Probably still was, though Colin hadn’t seen much of him since they’d both returned from France. If the dark look in Jack’s blue eyes was any indication, the memories of a certain event were traipsing through his mind at the moment, just as they were through Colin’s.
It had been his and Christian’s last Christmas gathering in the village before leaving to fight. Sixteen-year-old Jack, four years Colin’s junior, had cornered Lizzie Smith beneath the mistletoe. The girl’s distressed look was evident from a distance. Christian would have typically been the one to intervene, but he’d been busy talking to the pastor. Colin couldn’t leave the girl defenseless against Jack’s awkward wooing, so he’d strode over and given Jack a dressing-down on how to win a lady’s affections.
Blustering and red in the face, Jack had stormed off, but he hadn’t retreated far. He still witnessed the rather passionate kiss of gratitude Lizzie bestowed on Colin. His and Jack’s clash that night, and Jack’s anger over not being old enough to fight right away, had sealed his contempt for Colin.
“Let me carry your things, Miss Lewis,” Jack said. All traces of animosity evaporated as he addressed Nora.
“Call me Nora.”
Jealousy tasted bitter on Colin’s tongue. She hadn’t asked him to call her by her first name until today, and yet she’d bestowed the honor on Jack after five minutes.
“Aren’t you headed into the village, though?” Nora asked Jack.
“It can wait. I’d much prefer escorting you back to your cottage.”
Clearly Jack had picked up a thing or two about how to treat a woman since Colin’s long-ago scolding. That knowledge should have impressed Colin, but instead he felt annoyed.
Nora threw him a questioning look. He schooled his irritation to smile rakishly at her and mouth, “A gentleman.” The corners of her lips rose at his teasing, revealing her dimple.
She relinquished her purchases to Jack and the two set off in the direction of her cottage. Colin stayed several paces behind them, though he remained close enough to listen and keep an eye on Jack. Nora plied the younger man with questions about her sheep, which he seemed more than willing to answer in great detail.
“Why don’t I take you up on the fell tomorrow?” Jack offered. “You can see your sheep and get a feel for the land.”
“I’d like that.”
Colin frowned at her exuberant tone. He’d never considered Jack Tuttle competition in any way. Until today.
Nora laughed at something Jack said, making Colin grind his teeth together. He was supposed to be the enigmatic one. And yet…Was it his charm or his title and estate that attracted the ladies more? Nora wasn’t impressed by his wealth or his position, so neither would help him in convincing her to give up her farm. Instead he’d have to get to know her as himself, as a friend. It was a terrifying and intriguing notion.
* * *
Nora half listened to Jack’s explanation of the different tasks associated with sheep farming and what time of year they took place. The words wouldn’t stick in her mind, though, because her thoughts were too fixed on Colin walking behind them. She kept remembering the way his dark eyes had watched her intently before Jack had shown up. Or how he’d removed the speck of gravy from her cheek earlier.
That look had the power to make her pulse trip a little faster, the power to make her feel things she’d buried deep. Nora crossed her arms, wishing she were holding her parcels instead of the two men. She wanted something to hold on to, something to keep at bay the vulnerability nibbling at her rational sensibilities.
Guilt accompanied her feelings of weakness. Colin had survived the Great War, thank goodness, but others, like Tom, weren’t so lucky. He was the man she’d promised to wait for, to love, even if she could no longer make good on that promise. She wouldn’t dishonor his memory or his death by harboring feelings for another man. Not yet, at least, and perhaps not ever.
Before she knew it, the three of them were standing in front of the Lewis cottage. Nora didn’t remember turning onto the lane or climbing the low hill. Shaking herself, she collected her things from Jack. She wanted Colin to leave as well, but she couldn’t very well carry everything alone.
“Thanks for your help, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was looking forward to climbing the mountain and seeing her sheep for the first time.
Jack shot Colin a guarded look, then nodded at Nora. “I’ll be by to collect you at five. Then we can go straight from the fell to my house for supper. You’re still coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
With a tip of his cap to her and a frown for Colin, Jack tramped back down the lane.
“Let’s bring the groceries through the kitchen door.” Nora led Colin around the side of the cottage to the back. A glance over her shoulder showed his carefree manner had been replaced by a somber one. “Why doesn’t Jack like you?”
Colin stared up at the mountains looming before them. “So you noticed his affability or lack thereof.”
Nora gave him a pointed look, which elicited a chuckle from him. “What happened?”
“The simple story is this. Jack’s girl of six years ago preferred bestowing a Christmas kiss on me than giving one to him.” His shoulders rose and fell with another low laugh. “He’s despised me ever since.”
Nora couldn’t say she blamed the girl. Given a choice between kissing Jack or Colin, she’d pick Colin, too. Her face grew hot at the thought and she busied herself with opening the cottage’s back door to hide her reaction.
“It was entirely unsolicited, I assure you.” He stepped inside after her. “He’s also a bit touchy about not being able to enter the war until two years after Christian and I left, so I wouldn’t mention that one tomorrow either.”
“Just set everything there on the table,” Nora directed.
Colin obliged, then stood back, eyeing the pile on the table. Awkwardness filled the air between them, a first since their meeting the night before.
“I’m grateful—again—for your timely help…Colin.”
“My pleasure, Nora.” His dark eyes lit with a slow smile.
Perseus appeared in the open doorway. Relieved at the distraction, Nora walked over to rub his fur. She would greatly miss his company. “It was nice to have a dog here last night.”
“I hope it helped.”
“Very much,” she said without lifting her head. She wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed by his handsome face and charming manners.
“I suppose we’re off then.” He and Perseus returned outdoors. Nora reached out to shut the door, but she stopped when she saw Colin turn around. Her heart beat faster as she met his gaze.
“If you should require anything else, please let me know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, a habitual gesture she already identified as his. “I’d like to be friends, Nora.”
Gratitude for his honest admission lifted her mouth into a smile, though the tiniest sliver of disappointment cut through her at what might have been. Nora ignored it. She could offer him friendship, nothing more.
“I’d like that, too.”