Page 2 of The Gift of Patience
“And I always need something to do.”
Joy’s cat, Freddy Tiger, walked by the stall and paused to inspect what they were doing.
“He is growing very fat,” Patience observed.
Grace cocked her head and observed as Freddy rubbed against the edge of the stall.
“I suppose you’re right. He’s keeping the mouse population under control,” she mused.
“Where is Joy?” She must not be too far if Freddy was here.
“Last I saw her, she was collecting eggs. She’s so thrilled that she no longer has to do lessons since Miss Hillier left. Though she misses her company.”
“That will leave you and me to read to her. I still do not understand why she prefers to be read to.”
Grace shrugged. “Miss Hillier was a gifted reader.”
“I fear that is all I have to look forward to—either being a companion or a governess.” Patience knew she sounded pathetically self-pitying.
“Just because you did not make a match last Season does not mean you are destined for servitude.”
“I know, but I cannot think I will be content as a wife and mother, either. At least as a companion or governess, I will have some measure of independence.”
“I am not convinced of that, either. Miss Hillier used to tell those awful stories of the position she held before she came to us. Not every household is as agreeable as ours,” Grace reasoned.
“Perhaps you are correct. We are wards instead of children, so maybe that makes it different. There must be some way to gain independence. Short of becoming a man.”
“Do you want to become a man?” Joy asked, now standing at the front of the stall with Freddy in her arms, her skirts dirtied and tied up, with a streak of mud on her face.
“You cannot tell me you have not dreamed of such a thing, Joy.” Patience scowled with disbelief.
“I suppose it would be more fun,” she agreed. “But I do not think the Dowager or Faith will allow you to go unwed, let alone masquerade as a man. Think of how scandalized they were to see me wear breeches.”
“That is an idea,” Patience contemplated.
“Thus far, I am happy helping with the animals here. I dread being dragged back to London. I might be able to be spared one more Season, if I am fortunate,” Joy groaned.
“At least in London we had more to do, friends to ride with, and go to balls with. Speaking of, have any of you heard news of Carew or Montford or Cunningham?”
“I had a letter from Vivienne just this morning,” Joy said. “I was going to share it with you later. She patted her pocket.
Patience waved her hand. “A summary from you will suffice.”
“She says that Mr. Cunningham is on his way here with our promised pup now that he is weaned. Oh, and she thinks Lord Montford will propose soon.”
“It seems to be contagious,” Patience muttered.
“I am happy for them,” Grace said in her always agreeable tone. “After her parents’ disappointment with Rotham, hopefully they will be pleased by this arrangement.”
At least Patience did not really have anyone to disappoint. Not really.
“What of Carew? I thought he would be back from Ireland by now.”
“Westwood does not expect him for another month or so when he will bring some weanlings,” Joy answered.
There was still very little to look forward to, then, Patience surmised with a heavy sigh.
If you staredat the ceiling long enough, it looked as though it was coming to life. The scene was one of war; horse-drawn chariots were stirring up dust all about them as soldiers brandishing swords and shields clashed in the middle. Angels hovered in the sky, waiting and watching. Flames from the hearth flickered across the ceiling, adding to the mobile illusion, while the crack of a log consumed by fire added to the ambiance of the scene.
