A Hope Remembered (4 page)

She didn’t squirm beneath his scrutiny, but Colin noticed a flicker of exhaustion pass over her face as he studied her. How far had she come? He didn’t like the thought of turning her away, as Martin intended, especially seeing that hint of fatigue. A tug of compassion and interest prompted him to step back and motion her inside. “Why don’t you come in?”

The woman looked from him to Martin, then apparently sensing no further complaint from the butler, she crossed the threshold into the house. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be brief.”

Her voice revealed her American origins as the brighter light revealed details about her person that Colin hadn’t yet noticed. Light freckles draped her nose. Her eyes, wreathed by long lashes, were the color of the lake in spring. She clutched a battered suitcase in one hand and a wrinkled envelope in the other. Her gaze flicked to the nearby marbled table topped with its ornate vase of flowers, but their opulence seemed to have little effect on her.

Turning those arresting blue-green eyes on him, she managed a faint smile. “As I told the gentleman here, my name is Nora Lewis. I’m the great-niece of Henry Lewis, and I’ve inherited his sheep farm. I was told Sir Edward Ashby could help me locate a Mr. Green, who would give me the key to my property.”

Old Man Lewis had a great-niece, and an American one at that? Colin walked by the Lewis sheep farm and cottage nearly every day. He’d expected the property to go to the Tuttle family, though, who were related to Henry by marriage.

“As I already informed her, Master Colin, Sir Edward—”

“You are right, Martin. Father cannot be disturbed.” He turned from the butler’s annoyed expression to Nora Lewis. “Perhaps I might be of help, though. I’m Colin Ashby, Sir Edward’s son.” He had no idea why he felt compelled to help, other than a vague notion that if anyone was to her assist her, it must be him.

“Mr. Ashby.” She nodded in acknowledgment. He liked the sound of his name spoken in her American accent. “Could you tell me where I might find Mr. Green?”

“Mr. Green is my father’s land agent, but he doesn’t live here at the house. His home is down the lane a bit. You passed it on your way.”

The tired lines on her heart-shaped face deepened. “I see. And which house is Mr. Green’s?”

“It is late, Miss Lewis,” Martin interrupted with dismissal. “I suggest you return in the morning and all will be set right.”

“Where is she to go, Martin?” The fierceness in Colin’s tone surprised himself.

The butler drew himself up to his full height, which still meant his gray head only came to Colin’s chin. “The inn in the village, Master Colin.”

“No,” Colin said, shaking his head. Not only was Nora clearly exhausted, but if she went to stay in the inn, his curiosity about her wouldn’t be satisfied. What had motivated this beautiful young woman to come here, alone, to claim a sheep farm? “You are welcome to stay the night here, Miss Lewis.”

Nora pocketed her envelope and fixed Colin with a determined look. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Ashby, but I would very much like to stay the night in my own house.”

Colin bit back a laugh. He wasn’t sure whether he ought to remind her of the likely deplorable state of “her house” or congratulate her on her fortitude. Her gumption only added to her growing intrigue.

“Very well, Miss Lewis. I will show you to the Greens’ home.” He shoved his bow tie into his pocket. “Martin, will you please tell Father I’ve stepped out?”

“Yes, Master Colin.”

He ignored the disapproving tone of the butler and waved Nora out the door, ahead of him.

A small smile broke through her weariness. “Thank you, Mr. Ashby.” She gave a polite nod to Martin, despite his abruptness. “Good night.”

Colin followed her outside and onto the gravel drive. The crunch of their shoes filled the silence between them. They hadn’t gone far before a low whine sounded, accompanied by the soft pad of paws. Colin stopped to allow Christian’s yellow Labrador to catch up. The dog trotted over to them and began sniffing Nora’s skirt and shoes. Colin fully expected her to shy away from the big but gentle brute, but instead, she knelt down and scratched the animal behind the ears.

“Who is this handsome fellow?” Her voice held more animation than Colin had yet heard.

“Miss Lewis, meet Perseus.”

She glanced up at Colin over her shoulder and smiled. Not the reluctant smile of moments ago, but a genuine one that brightened her gaze. If he’d thought her eyes captivating before, now they were positively mesmerizing.

“Perseus? Do you like Greek mythology?”

It took him a moment to shift his focus from her blue-green eyes to her question. “My brother, actually.”

Before the stab of grief could fill him at the mention of Christian, Nora spoke again. The wistfulness in her voice served as the perfect antidote to his own pain. “I have a dog back home. But his name is nothing so original.” She gave Perseus another pat, then stood. “It’s plain old Oscar.”

“I have an uncle named Oscar.”

“Oh.” Apology etched her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”

Colin broke his deadpan expression and chuckled. “I don’t really have an Uncle Oscar, Miss Lewis. However, if I did, I think that’s a perfectly dignified and sensible name.”

He caught the quick showing of an amused smile before it vanished. Nora fell into step beside him, Perseus at their heels.

“How did you come from the station?” Larksbeck didn’t have a train station. The closest one was a good hour’s drive away, longer if the mud was bad. It would take several hours to traverse on foot.

“I walked.”

Colin’s eyebrows shot up with surprise. He couldn’t imagine Lady Sophia, or any of the young women he’d recently met, making such a long walk. The more minutes he spent in Nora’s presence, the more his admiration for her grew, along with an unfamiliar desire to know everything about her.

He tried to remember what he’d heard during the war about American women. They were bold, brash, independent—that’s what his comrades had told him. Certainly Miss Lewis was the latter, to travel all the way here alone, to take over her great-uncle’s sheep farm. He couldn’t imagine her pining over the inefficiencies of dance partners as Lady Sophia had.

“Where in America are you from?” he questioned, hoping to draw out more information from her.

“Iowa.”

“Is that where all the heiresses of sheep farms hail from?”

His playful question managed to coax another half smile from her. “I don’t know. I’ve never met another sheep farm heiress.”

“Nor have I. You’re my first.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “What did you do in Iowa?”

“I ran my family’s farm.”

“Alone?”

Sorrow pinched the air between them as she paused. “Only recently.”

He wanted very much to prompt her to elaborate, but he decided not to press the topic. “Did you have sheep there?” he asked, steering the conversation in a less discomfiting direction.

Nora shook her head, the trace of laughter in her voice when she answered, “No. We had a cow, horses, chickens, hay fields, corn. But no sheep.”

“This is your first time caring for sheep, then?”

“Yes.” There was no hint at hesitation or fear.

Colin’s respect for her doubled at her answer. She would be tackling a brand-new skill, as he had when he’d first learned to fly. He missed learning new things. The war, though lengthy and awful, had given him a sense of accomplishment, a chance to work at tasks unfamiliar to him. Something akin to envy wound through him at the adventure that awaited Nora.

When she lapsed into silence again, he searched his mind for something else to say.
What’s the matter?
he scolded himself. Conversing with women had never been a difficult task for him, especially not lately. The women he’d met since returning home possessed a strong eagerness to talk to him.

Nora, however, didn’t seem at all dazzled by what he’d heard referred to as his “good looks and charm.” He recalled the way she’d observed the ornate entryway at Elmthwaite Hall with neither approval nor disapproval in her gaze. In her unobtrusive presence, Colin felt suddenly stripped away of all pretense and expectation. The realization left him feeling oddly vulnerable and yet liberated at the same time.

He glanced at her, strolling silently beside him. Her eyes took in the mountains, the languid lake, and him. She offered him a quick smile, but he sensed it was one of friendly appreciation, not one designed to impress like Lady Sophia’s smiles. Nora’s authenticity demanded he act in kind, a thought that both intrigued and unsettled him.

Walking here beside her, he was no longer Sir Edward’s son or Christian’s younger brother or the next heir of Elmthwaite Hall. Tonight, in this moment, he was simply Colin—someone he hadn’t been free to be in a very long time.

N
ora waited outside the walled yard as Colin Ashby had instructed, while he knocked on the Greens’ front door. Perseus sat beside her. She rubbed the soft fur behind the dog’s ears, grateful for his calming company and the reminder of home in this unfamiliar place.

She glanced at the still-lit sky. What time did it actually grow dark here? she wondered. If she were back home, she’d be seeking refuge from the heat of the day. Perhaps taking a rest from running the farm by sitting on the porch, Oscar lying on the wood planks at her feet.

Instead she stood shivering, even in the summer air, in a country halfway around the world. Would she be able to learn sheep farming and make a life for herself here? Her great-uncle’s solicitor, Mr. Shaw, certainly had his doubts, even if he’d tried to hide them behind a kind smile. Nora wouldn’t soon forget his shocked expression when she entered his office and explained she was the great-niece of the late Henry Lewis.

But there’s no going back, so please help me, Lord.

Nora set her suitcase down and crossed her arms to keep warmer. She had nothing back in Iowa, except for painful memories. This was where she would make a new beginning, one she desperately needed.

Footfalls disrupted her thoughts. She glanced up to see Colin striding toward her. His expensive suit looked out of place against the backdrop of the whitewashed stone cottage, and yet the man himself didn’t seem so out of place here. He’d looked every bit the handsome prince from a fairy tale when he’d intercepted the butler, his black eyes warm with curiosity, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead. But with his strong-looking shoulders and friendly manner, he could easily pass as a laborer in the right clothes.

He pushed through the gate in the wall, that easy smile lifting his mouth. “Your key, Miss Lewis.”

Colin dropped the old-fashioned key into her open palm. The weight of it felt both ominous and promising. Would her new home be livable or a disaster after three months of being unoccupied? Whatever the state, she wouldn’t go to the inn. The sale of the farm had provided her with enough funds to buy some new clothes and pay her travel expenses to England. She wouldn’t part with what little she had left for a night at the inn.

“Thank you.” She slid the key into her coat pocket beside the letter verifying her relation to Henry Lewis and her inheritance of his farm. “I appreciate the help.”

She expected him to leave, to return to his grand house—with its lavish carpets, fresh flowers, electric lights, and marbled tables—though she rather liked his company. His had been the first show of friendliness in an otherwise long and tiring day of traveling.

Instead of bidding her good-bye, though, Colin glanced up and down the road, his hands returning to his pockets. “Do you know which farm is your uncle’s?”

“No,” she said, hoisting her suitcase again. It weighed so little. “But I have the directions.”

“Old Man Lewis’s place is back down this road, toward Larksbeck.” He waved in that direction. “You passed it on your way up to the house. His lane veers off to the right. If you reach the bridge to the village again, you’ve gone too far.”

Nora extended her hand to him. “I’ll find it. Thank you again.”

Rather than shaking her offered hand, he starting walking south. In the opposite direction of his home. Nora hurried after him, Perseus trotting alongside her.

“Look, Mr. Ashby. I’m sure I can find it.”

“I have no doubt of that,” he said without breaking stride. “But I can’t very well allow you to bump around in the dark by yourself, can I?”

“But it isn’t dark.”

He chuckled, though he still wouldn’t concede. “To allow you to go into a strange house, alone, would be ungentlemanly.”

Her retort came swift, almost without thought. “And British men are nothing if not gentlemanly.”

Nora pressed her lips together in shock. Had she really spoken the tongue-in-cheek comment out loud?

Colin stopped walking and burst out laughing. The deep masculine sound encircled Nora, filling her heart with something akin to pleasure, then floated off over the quiet lake on their left. “I take it you don’t normally jest, Miss Lewis.”

“No,” she admitted with a soft smirk, her cheeks flushed.

What about this man put her in a teasing mood? It had been years since she’d made a man laugh. Tom had often praised her quick wit, but there were things she’d believed had died along with him.

Colin leaned close, his dark eyes full of amusement. “Then I shall endeavor to provoke some quipping from you again.”

Nora’s blush deepened as she peered up at him. She wasn’t in danger of losing her heart—she’d promised it to Tom, and even in death, he had full claim to it still. But she couldn’t help a sardonic smile at the thought of the sheep girl and the rich, handsome land owner ending up together. What would Livy have to say on that subject?

“Shall we?” Colin unpocketed one hand to motion her forward.

She moved in step with him, her feet throbbing inside her shoes after hours of walking. They trudged along in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She felt no fear at walking alone with him. Perhaps it was the absence of darkness, despite being nearly ten o’clock, or perhaps it was more the sense of honor about him that told her she could trust him.

“Here’s your lane,” Colin announced at last. The path, no wider than a single wagon width, was lined on both sides with stone fences. Nora remembered seeing the ribbon of a road on the way up to Elmthwaite Hall, though she hadn’t guessed it led to her new house.

Her heart beat faster at the possibilities of what lay ahead. She quickened her pace as the path ascended a grassy incline. Colin dropped behind as if he understood her unspoken need to view the place for the first time by herself.

At the top of the small hill, the land stretched flat for several acres before climbing toward the mountains. Nestled between two stands of trees was a two-story whitewashed stone cottage with slate shingles. The front doorway sagged and one of the windows appeared to be cracked, but Nora didn’t care. It was standing—and it was hers.

She went to the door and fit the key into the lock. Colin came up behind her, while Perseus sniffed at the weeds growing beneath the windows. Nora twisted the key and pushed open the door. It moved inward with a loud creak. She stepped into a narrow hallway and set her suitcase on the floor, her nose filling with the dusty scent of uninhabited space.

To her left Nora found the dining room, to her right the parlor. Sheets shrouded most of the furniture, including the dining table and couch.

She walked past the staircase leading to the second floor and moved into the kitchen at the back of the house. A small table with three chairs stood on one side of the room. A sink, cooking range, and cupboard filled the rest of the space, while a washing machine guarded the corner.

Colin and Perseus appeared in the kitchen doorway. “What do you think, Miss Lewis?”

Nora glanced out the window above the sink—it had a lovely view of the mountains. “It’s wonderful.”

“The water comes directly to the house.”

“Just like at home.” She smiled in relief.

“Old Man Lewis did rather well for himself.” Colin leaned against the wall at his back. “His family bought this land from my ancestors more than a hundred years ago.”

“Did they want to sell it?”

“I believe they were in need of funds,” he said with a touch of ruefulness in his voice.

“So where are my sheep?” Nora leaned over the sink to get a better view. A square field, enclosed by a stone fence and gate, lay directly behind the house, but it was empty. A stone barn sat beside the field, its doors shut.

Colin chuckled. “You won’t find them out there. They’re up on the fell.”

She turned around. “The fell?” Apparently there were even words she would need to learn in this new life.
No matter, though
, Nora thought. She wasn’t without a home or a way to take care of herself. There was reassurance in that.

“That’s the name for the mountains. The farmers will bring the sheep down in the next two months for shearing.”

“They wander around up there, on the mountains?”

He nodded. “All the sheep are marked—on the ear and with paint on their backs and sides. That way each farmer knows which sheep belongs to which farm. I heard that Jack Tuttle, one of your neighbors”—he straightened—“has been looking out for Lewis’s sheep since his death.”

Nora took note of the name; she’d have to learn where Jack Tuttle lived so she could thank him. “Anything else I need to know about the sheep?”

Colin laughed as he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Much more I’m sure, but that’s all I can articulate on the subject.” She couldn’t help wondering the real reason he’d insisted on accompanying her—not that she minded. His company was proving to be as welcome as his dog’s.

“That’s good for now.” She gave him a grateful smile and glanced at the ceiling. “I think I’ll check out the upstairs.”

“I’ll wait below,” he said, waving her forward and giving her a slight bow, as if she were a queen.

Grateful to finish her final exploration alone, Nora climbed the stairs, one or two creaking a bit beneath her shoes. There were two bedrooms on the second level. They were identical—each containing a bed, a small table, a bureau, and a fireplace. Which one had been her great-uncle’s? she wondered. Would he be pleased she’d come all this way to take over his farm? She’d known so very little about him, other than his name, where he lived, and that he was related to her father.

She returned downstairs, her hand on the banister. Like everything else, a layer of dust covered the wood. Nora brushed her hand against her coat. A thorough cleaning, a new pane of glass for the parlor window, a stocked cupboard, and the place would be comfortable.

Colin, a lit lamp in hand, waited with his dog by the front door. The soft illumination helped chase away some of the growing shadows. Lifting the lamp higher, he peered into the parlor. “It all looks rather dusty.”

“But nothing that can’t be fixed with a rag.” Nora’s scrutinizing gaze alighted on a horn-shaped object hidden beneath a sheet. A thrill of excitement pulsed through her. “That must be a gramophone.” Her fingers mourned the loss of her piano, but a gramophone, like the one she’d left behind, would still provide music to sing along with.

She stepped into the parlor to get a better look, but instead of the click of her heels against the wood, her shoe connected with something that gave a frightened squeak. Startled, Nora jumped out of the way and crashed against Colin. He managed to keep hold of the lamp with one hand, while his other gripped her waist.

“Watch yourself,” he said in a low voice, his breath warming her cheek. “There are likely more mice where that one came from.”

Nora took a deep breath to still her pounding heart. But the heat of Colin’s hand seeping through the thin material of her coat and dress, along with the solid feel of his chest against her back, caused her heartbeat to quicken instead of slow. It had been so long since she’d been held, especially by a man.

Their close proximity released a bevy of emotions inside her—anticipation, uncertainty, hope, fear—but she knew the danger of feeling too much. She would not risk returning to the depths of pain she’d endured at losing the three people she loved most. Pragmatism, not passion, had ruled her life the last nineteen months. And it would do so now. She forced herself to step away from Colin, stifling a shiver from the cold the absence of his hand created.

“Are you all right?” He reached out as if to touch her again, but his hand fell short before he lowered it to his side.

Afraid she’d sound breathless if she spoke, Nora settled for a nod.

Colin studied her face, his gaze penetrating. “May I ask you a question?”

Her dry throat felt drier still. What did he wish to ask? “Yes,” she found herself answering, in spite of the concern throbbing beneath her skin.

“How does your family feel about you moving to England?”

Family
. The word elicited a pang of sorrow in her chest. Nora fingered the sheet on top of the couch, allowing herself a single moment to feel the pain before she swallowed it back. “I lost my parents to the Spanish influenza over a year and a half ago. That’s what I meant earlier about running things alone.” She lifted her eyes to his and gave a halfhearted shrug. “So that leaves me. I have no siblings and no other living relatives.”

“I’m sorry.” The genuine tone of compassion made Nora feel that perhaps he, too, had experienced the death of someone dear. His next words confirmed her guess. “My brother was killed in a dogfight with the Germans nearly three years ago.”

“He was a pilot?”

“We both were.” The strangled tone told her more than his simple response. He’d been close to his brother. For a moment she wondered if, like Tom, this other Ashby had left behind a grieving sweetheart.

“That must be so very hard to have him gone.” Nora studied the shadows at her feet, hesitating. Should she share more of her own story of loss? The feeling of trust she’d felt on the walk over with Colin returned, giving her the courage to push the truth from her lips into the air between them. “I lost my fiancé to the war.”

“A double blow then,” Colin said with equal gravity.

“Yes, but what family hasn’t been affected? The war changed a great many lives.”

She lifted her chin to find him staring at her, his expression a mixture of surprise and respect. A moment later, the emotion in his gaze faded and he passed her the lamp. “I must be getting back. It’s a great pleasure to have met you, Miss Lewis.”

“Thank you again for all your help, Mr. Ashby.”

He paused at the door. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman, or a British one, at least,” he teased, making Nora flush, “if I didn’t offer once more to let you stay at Elmthwaite Hall until this place can be properly cleaned.”

“I’m perfectly fine staying the night here, as I said earlier.”

“Even with the mice and dust?” His eyebrows rose with challenge.

Nora couldn’t help a thin smile. It had been so long since she’d exchanged friendly banter with a man—she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it until tonight. “I’m not a stranger to such things, Mr. Ashby. I did grow up on a farm.”