Page 3 of A Tenuous Betrothal
Perhaps while home, she could gather a few more of Father’s things. Surely, Uncle would have no need of Father’s cravats or his favorite shirt or a handkerchief or two. Uncle had already locked up Mother’s jewels, even the ones expressly promised to Rhi.
They traveled down the long lane that meandered through the woods surrounding her cottage. No one would know there was a dwelling place in the trees unless they were told to continue on a never-ending, narrow, unkempt road. Perhaps it would keep out the traitorous overseers who, along with her uncle, no doubt also wished her gone. One loyal foreman chosen by her father remained, the only man who knew a thing about mining. Uncle didn’t dare replace him. Aeron Thomas was a man of iron, his heart tried and pressed and true to the families in Carmarthenshire for many years.
Rhi huffed. If only her father had left the mines to Mr. Thomas. He was a much more worthy candidate than her uncle. Rhi knew he’d done it with great reluctance—he’d told her so himself—but what choice did he have? Even she could see that his will must leave the whole of it to a Davies. Unfortunately, Uncle was the last Davies, besides herself, and although she’d never heard of a woman running a mine, she thought she would be a much better option than her uncle.
Butsomethingfor Rhi? Some sort of safeguard, besides her father’s misplaced trust that her uncle would see to her needs, would have been most welcome. For now, she had food from the tenants to help sustain her, but they had very little themselves. As pleased as she was to be apart from her uncle, she knew she would need to find a way to provide for and protect herself if she were to be any source of continued support to the miners.
She could have ridden in the carriage forever, feeling her father and her home all about her, but too soon it arrived in front of her home—her former home. The doors opened, and servants flooded the front entry, lining both sides, to greet her. They came in mass numbers and stood in double rows to fit the space between the house and the carriage. An impressive sight. They looked as though they’d come to welcome royalty. Rhi peered out at them, waved, and smiled. They stood tall, formal. They didn’t wave back, but that was in deference to her. She loved these people. They were the closest thing she had to true family now, and she admitted they made the dreaded trip worth it, even if she must now greet her odious uncle.
As she watched the honor they presented her in this grand welcome, her eyes overflowed. She was not strong enough to hold back her gratitude.
Mrs. Fenniwick, the housekeeper, smiled in welcome, her eyes shining.
The footmen who opened the carriage door bowed low and stayed there for longer than was typical.
“Jorge. Gareth. Thank you.”
They rose and stood smartly on either side as she walked between them. Every space between the carriage and the front door was filled with her father’s servants, wearing her family’s livery, every one of the servants chosen and kept in their home out of mutual loyalty and excellent service.
She murmured thank you again and again until she reached Mrs. Fenniwick and Barnby, the butler. “Has everyone left their posts?”
Barnby cleared his throat. “It’s just our way, miss. I don’t care one fig about what your uncle has to say.”
When Mrs. Fenniwick looked as though she would express a mite of warning, Barnby added, “Mind ye, I care, but not when it comes to you. We didn’t tell the staff to greet you like this, but we’re not surprised they did. And I’m not going to send them back just yet either.”
Mrs. Fenniwick clucked. “When the rightful owner of the home returns, it is only fitting and proper that she be greeted appropriately.” She hugged Rhi as tenderly as she ever had. “And glad I am to see you.”
“And I you.” Rhi turned and waved again. “I love you all.”
Barnby stepped aside. “Would you like me to show you in?”
“Is it all that different inside?” In truth, she knew the answer, at least from what she could make out in the dark the night previous.
“Not at all, though don’t be too shocked at some missing portraits.”
Rhi’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
“But it would be my honor to perform my duties with exactness,” the butler continued. “You are likely the most important visitor this house will ever receive, and I know the master—the late master—would agree with me.”
Rhi’s eyes overflowed again. “Then, yes, I would be honored if you would show me in.” She linked arms with Mrs. Fenniwick. “And you too.”
They made their way through the front entrance that was so much like home and yet felt different. The air itself settled differently around Rhi. Yes, there were missing portraits—most notably, one of her mother. She narrowed her eyes further.
Mrs. Fenniwick sighed, but nothing was said.
Then two footmen opened the double doors leading into their front receiving room, and Barnby announced, “Miss Rhianna Davies, mistress of Cresselly, to see you.”
Her uncle looked even more oily than the last time she’d seen him. He flicked his fingers. “She was mistress for one day. That hardly qualifies.”
“I was mistress the whole of the time since my mother passed.” Rhi stood taller and nodded. “Uncle.”
“How is the cottage?” His overly amused question rankled.
“How are the mines?” She lifted her chin and stared him down. “We should discuss those passageways. I heard you are exploring options to reopen them.” She shook her head. “If you do, you risk the families and the whole mine structures. They will collapse. We don’t have air shafts enough to prevent explosion—”
“Rhianna I did not summon you here to listen to your tirades about the mines. You are a child. You have been involved in only the barest details, and you know nothing about the financial ruin we are facing.”
She clutched at the fabric of her skirts in fisted balls. “Father knew. And he didn’t authorize the opening of those passages.”
