Page 11 of An Amiable Foe
In another lifetime, Perry would have wanted to grab the reins and get the gig moving at a faster pace than the deathly amble the nag was executing. However, there was something enjoyable about riding at Miss Edgewood’s side. She had borne much in the two days in his company, but was not given to some of the excess emotions or shrill tones he had experienced in the company of other women. And one had to admit she was excessively fine to look upon, despite not owning a single item that had been sewn in the last several seasons.
“Yes, I suppose my uncle does strike a bit of fear in my heart. He is not an easy man to please.” Perry lifted his eyes to the green needles of the Scots pine tree above, breathing in the fresh air that held hints of salt from the ocean not far away, although the water was not visible from where they rode. A subject that had once caused him pain was easier to talk about in such a peaceful setting, and so he continued.
“Lord Steere never paid me any attention until his own son was taken from him. I had never even met my cousin in the fifteen years John was alive. Then, and only because I was his heir and he was forced to notice me, did my uncle invite me to visit. I suppose that makes me anxious not to misstep in his presence.”
“And your own parents?” Marianne prompted, her eyes trained ahead and the reins held loosely in her hands.
“My father was a spendthrift and a gambler, according to my mother. I have few memories of him. I suppose he was charming, and he must have been to win a woman like my mother. She would not have been won over by his claims as a gentleman. If he were alive today, I doubt he would be someone I could admire. My mother is a very good woman. She is still alive and living in Essex.”
Perry had spoken about himself in unusual detail. He could not remember the last time he had done such a thing. A sudden curiosity to know more about Miss Edgewood prompted him to turn for a glimpse of her face, just visible under her short poke bonnet.
“If it is not excessively painful to speak of, how did you lose your parents?”
Miss Edgewood took a silent breath and exhaled. “It is painful. It cannot be otherwise. But I have had ten years to grow accustomed to the idea. My parents went to bed one night and did not wake up the next morning.”
Perry frowned. “Did not wake up? Had they been poisoned?”
She turned the gig onto the public road that he had taken yesterday which led to the estate.Had it been only yesterday?
“No, the doctor ruled out poison—at least from a food substance, for we had all eaten the same thing. He thought it must be related to the fire in their room somehow, which was nearly out by the next morning and was smoking excessively. He said that when there is an abundance of smoke or sulfurous air, it can be poisonous to the lungs. As they had both been in perfect health when they went to bed and no other symptom was found to give indication to their death, he is most likely right.”
“I am sorry to hear it.” Perry allowed himself to imagine how difficult it must have been to be so young and deprived of both parents in one go. She did not appear to have had much guidance at the castle. It had been hard enough for him when he was just sixteen and attending Oxford on his own for his first year. He had not been well-liked then, for reasons he could not understand. But at least he’d had his mother’s letters to remind him he was cared for by someone.
After a respectful beat of silence, he prodded further. “If I followed my uncle’s brief explanation correctly, your parents were then succeeded by your uncle. Were you close to him?”
Miss Edgewood gave a wan smile. “To my understanding, I have met him but once in my life, and that was before I was old enough to remember it. He succeeded my father as Brindale’s owner in the ten years before his own death, and although he made plans to come see me within that first year, the visit never came to fruition. I believe it was business concerns that made him put the visit off, and I eventually stopped expecting it.”
The tops of the castle towers could be seen from the distance, and she drove off the public road, directing the gig toward the western gate.
“My uncle and I corresponded the best we could with such distance as we had between us. He was the one who engaged my companion for me, and I was too young to know that it should have been a governess. He was a bachelor, you see, and had spent his entire adult life in India. I think he was rather ignorant of the social niceties or needs of a young girl.”
She fell into silence as she drove on to the estate, headed in the opposite direction of the stables. He did not question where she was going. After all, he had asked her to show him the castle grounds, and it seemed she was taking it to heart. The lawns had been kept up beautifully considering the small team of servants that she had numbered, and the castle itself had little outside appearance of decay.
The four towers and crenelated walls gave the structure an appearance of a fortress. Its walls were rounded in between the towers, and they extended up to where a gabled roof was covered with clay peg tiles. This gave the only outward sign of disrepair, as some of the tiles were discolored and in evident need of being replaced. He had already decided that the roof would receive the first of his attention.
They drove by a series of decrepit wooden boxes that must have once been an apiary. “Stop here, would you?” As Miss Edgewood pulled the gig to a stop, Perry asked, “Are these no longer in use?”
Miss Edgewood looked around and almost smiled in nostalgia. “My father loved honeybees, and had the gardener plant all the flowers that might attract them. Comfrey, heather, Michaelmas daisies…. It’s all here.” She sighed as she brought her gaze to his, her blue eyes reminding him of all those flowers she had just named. He would not allow himself to be distracted by a pretty set of eyes.
She broke his gaze and turned to look at the empty hives. “The hives at Brindale produced a fine honey that was well-known, and it fetched a very good price all the way in London. And our bee liquor was famous locally and sold excessively well.”
“Bee liquor?” That had caught his attention.
“It’s a mead you get from cleaning the combs. I remember my father boasting of it but I was too young to try it.”
They had left the remnants of the bee colonies behind and were now climbing a slight hill that masked the view beyond it. “I was just a girl when my father died and was unable to upkeep the colonies. The beehives lost their queens. All of them are dead now, and the hives are no longer in use.”
“I will have to do something about that,” he mused as they crested the small incline and a lawn stretched in front of him that might be broad enough for a few sheep. He would eliminate nothing in his search for methods to make the estate profitable. It was not a large estate—there were no tenant farmers to bring in crops, but perhaps something like the apiary could be brought to good account.
“Hm.” Her smile seemed hopeful. “I would like to see that.”
“Miss Edgewood,” he said, prompted by some stirring in his heart he could not quite identify, despite his desire to maintain a formal distance. “I can see that life has not dealt you an overly generous hand. But it’s just possible that some of the changes I bring about will be things you approve of.”
“Perhaps.” She refused to look at him, but her expression relaxed, giving him hope that they might come to a better understanding.
If he were to achieve the formal distance he aimed for, however, it would be best if they did not live together. “If you are indeed ready to move to the cottage, perhaps you might allow me to assist you with the move.”
“And take away precious time from readying the castle for your friends?” she asked, an ironic lift to her brow.
