Page 78 of The Virtuoso
Blazing hell. The enchanted home wood had gone and changed on him when he’d been unwilling to deal with the need for change himself.
“Oh, ye gods,” Darius said softly behind him. Val followed his friend’s gaze across Ellen’s back gardens to her lovely little cottage.
Her formerly lovely little cottage. Another tree had toppled, landing mostly in Ellen’s side yard, but clipping the south side of her cottage by just enough that the roof was ruined and the wall sagging dangerously beneath it.
The sight was ominous, and to Val, somehow profane, as well.
“We’ll fix it,” he said, tipping her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Your conservatory was going in on that side, and this will just speed up construction. Dare, get my crews over here to clear this mess. Nick, we’ll be needing the team for sure. Day and Phil can go through the outbuildings and find a suite of bedroom furniture, then pick out a room in the house that’s close enough to done we can move Ellen into it.”
He braced a hand on either side of Ellen’s neck. “You are going to let me take care of this and no argument, please. God”—he hugged her to him—“if you’d been home, puttering at your embroidering, putting up jam…”
She nodded, eyes teary, and let him hold her.
“Ah, look there.” Val pointed to the base of the fallen tree. “Your greatest treasure is unscathed.” Marmalade sat on his fluffy orange backside, washing a front paw as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“I want…” Ellen stretched out a hand toward the cat, who pretended not to notice.
“I’ll fetch him for you.” Val kissed her nose and made for the cat, who strolled back a few paces closer to what had been the bottom of the tree. Val reached for the beast then froze and looked more closely at the tree. He tucked the cat against his middle and stole another glance around at the surrounding trees before taking Marmalade back to Ellen.
Val handed her the cat. “He says you have abandoned him shamelessly, and for your sins, you must allow him to accompany you up to the manor, where all his friends, the mice, are waiting to welcome him.”
“Oh, Val.” Ellen managed a watery smile but leaned against him as she clutched her purring cat. “I’m so glad he’s unharmed. You’re a good kitty, Marmie. A very good, brave kitty.”
“He’s also a very heavy kitty.” Val said, taking him from her grasp. “Let’s move him up to the manor, where I’m sure we can find him a dish of cream and you a cup of tea.”Orsomethingstronger.He certainly needed something stronger—to think she could have been killed, or worse.
The thought gave him pause, for even if she were maimed, Val would be grateful she was alive and no less interested in her company. It flummoxed him, that twist in his thinking, but he set the thought aside on the growing pile of things to consider later when he had peace, quiet, and solitude. He settled Ellen in the kitchen of the manor, putting a mug of brandy in her hand. He also scrounged up paper and pencil and had her make a list of what she wanted immediately from her cottage.
The rest would be moved as needs must into the outbuildings. For the present, getting her settled upstairs was going to take most of the day.
“May I leave you here while you finish your list?”
“You may,” Ellen said. “I shouldn’t be so dramatic. Trees have fallen all over the shire, and I live among a wood. You are kind to offer me your house.”
“Kind.” This talk of kindness made him want to bellow and throw fragile objects against the hearthstones. “There’s nothing kind about it, Ellen. If you think…” He caught himself and let out a breath. “We can talk more about that later, my love. For now, steady your nerves, pet your cat, and we’ll have your things moved in no time.” He hugged her tightly, kissed her, and made himself go find Darius and Nick.
Nick was easy to spot, of course, by virtue of his golden hair and striking height. Then too, he was walking the new team—the one sent by Moreland—down the lane toward Ellen’s cottage. No matter what had possessed the duke to make such an extravagant gift, the timing was more than fortunate, and Val would have to write and thank the old boy lest Her Grace chide Val for forgetting his manners.
“Nick!” Val hailed him and caught up easily, for the horses were nothing if not deliberate in their paces. “How’d you get them hitched up so fast?”
“They came with a groom,” Nick said. “Your papa sent along old Sean, and you’re to keep him as long as you can stand his cursing and grumbling.”
“Sean’s here?” Val’s brows rose. Sean was one of the most senior grooms at Morelands.
Nick shrugged. “Sean said foaling is done in Kent, and His Grace didn’t think you’d hired talent adequate for these two yet.”
“His Grace has spoken and I suppose I’m to make a go of this place.”
“Or maybe,” Nick suggested gently, “he simply wants to be helpful, Val.”
“Maybe.” Val nodded, unwilling to waste time arguing. “Let me show you something before you start hauling away next year’s firewood.”
Nick signaled the horses to stand and followed Val around the side of the cottage.
“Look closely at the stump, Nick.”
“Well, bugger all, would you look at that,” Nick growled, eyes traveling upward. “That tree fell into its neighbor, there.” He pointed to another stout tree in the hedgerow, one sporting a bright, pale gash in its bark several feet long at a height of maybe thirty feet. “And probably caught fairly snugly until someone sawed through what remained of the trunk at the base. Bloody hell, Val. You’ve got problems.”
“And Ellen has, too,” Val rejoined. “What if she’d been home, sleeping or working at her books? Baking?”
