Page 13 of Entrancing the Earl
Unaccustomed to dealing with more than bees and servants, Iona floundered. She couldn’t order an earl to sit down and shut up. She wasn’t even entirely certain why he was... what? Angry ather? Definitely upset but not exactly angry, she decided.
And then she recognized the problem. He was angry because she’d brought Lady Alice here, to his home. He must have learned about her delicate condition. Since she’d seen him in a compromising position with the lady...
She stood up so the earl wasn’t glaring down at her so much. “I did not know who you were at the time,” she reminded him. “We weren’t introduced. I had no idea I was bringing her to your home. I was bringing her toWinifred. She’s a midwife.”
He ran his hand through his hair and growled under his breath.Thatwas frustration, she could tell. He was big, but she was pretty certain he wouldn’t strike her. She wasn’t afraid of men any longer. Men toppled like rose canes when she cut them off in the right places.
“Fine. I’ll stay in my tower, out of the way. I’ll order that book for you.” The Earl of Ives and Wystan strode off, tall, lean, and the most handsome man she’d ever met.
Probably also the most confusing—not that she knew many men for comparison.
Iona sighed. It would be lovely to be normal and attend balls and learn to attract the attention of handsome men. She’d be a doddering old spinster before her stepfather died, though.
She could marry, she supposed. She had just never given it much thought after the disaster her mother had made of the wedded state. And then her own circumstances had made hiding more essential than looking for a husband.
“The earl is temperamental,” Simone said reassuringly, looking up from her crochet. “Stifling one’s gifts leads to frustration.”
Iona put away the drawing materials and nodded as if she understood. If the earl had a gift, it was for upsetting women, it seemed.
“How is Lady Alice this morning?” she asked. Had the earl thought she’d brought the lady here because she believed the child washis? Or maybe it was. Who knew?
“I don’t believe she mourns the child,” Simone said curtly. “We’ll keep her away from the earl.”
Iona almost smiled at that. It was amazing how the women here understood each other so well. “I think he’ll appreciate that.”
Lady Alice was apparently a conniving woman of loose morals, but women lacked the opportunities available to men. She’d not judge.
But now that husbands and marriage had occurred to her, Iona couldn’t stop thinking about them. She returned upstairs for her beekeeping habit, gathered her equipment from the shed, and set out for the orchard.
Instead of worrying about honey and hedges, however, she realized that if she married, Arthur would leave her alone. He might go after Isobel... But a powerful husband could go to court and prove Iona was the eldest. He’d want her to petition the court for her grandfather’s title, but...
She couldn’t go past that thought. Her mother had refused to allow her second husband to use her title and look what had become of that.
She should have been a queen bee, Iona thought wryly as she watched a few worker bees return to the hive with their late summer harvest. Mate once a year, lay a thousand eggs, and let the male die and blow away at the end of the season.
Except human children took a little longer to raise than a season—which was where her mother had succumbed to weakness and married again.
Iona hummed as she worked, soothing the bees and letting them settle down for their long winter’s rest. She had only been able to bring one queen with her when she’d fled, but that one would pass on her wisdom to her offspring. They would recognize Iona.
“Next year, you’ll have newer, nicer homes,” she assured the queen as she worked. “It’s warmer here, isn’t it? Just think of all the honey the apple blossoms will produce. It will pay for our new homes in no time.”
The queen hummed in appreciation. Bee wisdom was limited.
“I may trade some of your honey for hedge roots so you’ll have your own fortress. Blackthorn, maybe, they’ll provide lovely flowers in spring and we can make gin from the fruit. I think we’ll be happy here.” She added the last part for herself.
It was hard to be completely happy when others suffered, but at least now that she was free, she could plan. While she’d been trapped, she had only been able to suffer along with everyone else.
She wished she had someone more knowledgeable to plan with. Girls’ boarding schools did not teach law.
With his treasure-promisingartifact in his pocket, Gerard rode the well-worn paths of his estate. The cultivated fields were easily studied. He’d already been told it had been a poor year for apples but a good year for sheep.
The medallion didn’t acknowledge field or orchard.
Wystan’s boundaries did not reach the Roman wall in the south. That seemed a more likely place to find soldiers’ loot then a rocky fell.
“I need a little more direction than justWystan,” Gerard complained as he rode to the edge of the grain field and gazed glumly upon the rolling hills where the sheep fed.
Treasure is not always buried, the spirit in his head finally deigned to reply—with his usual world-weary cynicism.
