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.”
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?”
“We have to hope whoever did this took long enough to comprehend she wasn’t home,” Nick said. “Sawing green wood, even a few inches of it, makes noise.”
“You think I want to risk Ellen’s life on a hope?” Val spat bitterly. “The hell of it is, I can’t determine if it’s her enemies or mine doing this. Axel told you about the bonfires?”
“He did. Which just means we have to be careful, and at the least, you are the target. Burning down the house would not harm Ellen.”
“And wrecking her cottage would not harm me. So maybe it’s the combination of me and Ellen someone objects to.” He paced off a few feet, staring at the ruined cottage. “She loved her little house, Nick. I think it was all she had and the only place she felt really safe. Would you take her to Kent? Or to David and Letty?”
“Of course. Leah would love some civilized company. But let’s get this mess cleaned up and put our heads together later. For now, you have a widow to console.”
“This is the last of it,” Day said as he and Phil came in, arms full of the details Ellen hadn’t realized she’d miss until she was in the middle of making her bed: She spied in Phil’s arms some embroidered pillows, her old quilt, her favorite mug, and her brush and comb. She took each item from Phil then stopped and drew in a breath when she saw Day holding out a plant to her.
“What is that, Dayton?”
“It was sitting on your counter. I didn’t know if you’d want it, but it looked lonely and will need watering.”
“You found this weed on my counter?” Ellen took the plant, trying to keep the outrage from her voice.
“I can take it back, Mrs. Fitz,” Day offered as she snatched the plant from his hand.
“God damn him to hell,” Ellen muttered as she hurled the plant, pot and all, out an open window. “Thank you, gentlemen, I’d like some privacy now.” Her back was to them, as thorough a dismissal as she could imagine.
“Mrs. Fitz?” Phil’s voice was tentative. “Shall we send Mr. Windham to you?”
“No thank you,” Ellen said quickly enough that they both beat a hasty retreat. Ellen waited to make sure they’d gone, closed her door, sat on the bed, and cried.
Again.
Out in the yard, Phil and Day crossed paths with Val and Nick, who were returning from an afternoon hauling, sawing, and patching on Ellen’s cottage.
“Are we due for a swim?” Val asked his younger assistants. “Or do we attack the hampers first, and what is this doing in my tidy yard?” He knelt to pick up a badly cracked clay pot, a crumpled plant still housed within.
“We found it on Mrs. Fitz’s counter,” Day replied. “I thought it might be a house plant or one she’d like for her room, so I brought it to her. She pitched it out the window and said it was a weed.”
Val’s brows arched in consternation. “Ellen pitched a
“We both did,” Phil said, “but it isn’t a weed; it’s pennyroyal. It makes a nice tea and soothes the digestion like peppermint.”
Nick reached out a long arm and pinched off a leaf.
“Phil’s right,” Nick said, bringing the leaf to his nose. “Pennyroyal can be confused with spearmint because the scent and flavor are similar, but it’s pennyroyal all right.”
Val frowned, trying to recall what the apothecary had said about pennyroyal. “Why don’t you repot it? We’ll take it to your father on Saturday. He can find a use for it, but meanwhile I’d keep it out of Ellen’s sight.”
“Right.” Day nodded. “So dinner or a swim?”
