A Hope Remembered (6 page)

Colin recalled the determination in Nora’s blue-green eyes. If anyone, man or woman, could manage the sad-looking cottage and farm, she could. Or at least she’d give it a real try. “I don’t know that she’ll want to leave, Father.”

“Then you must persuade her.” Sir Edward stood. Colin had always thought of his father as a large man, though he’d long ago surpassed his height by several inches. “There is money to be made with bringing tourists here. I know it. But we must have the Lewis property to do it.”

He peered down at Colin, his blue eyes dark with intensity. “You’ve been blessed with certain gifts where the ladies are concerned, Colin. I’m certain you can ingratiate yourself with her. Then you will convince her this way of life is too demanding for a single woman to handle by herself.”

Colin’s gut soured at his father’s request, making him feel ill. Thankfully he hadn’t eaten breakfast. While he liked the thought of getting to know Nora better, he hated doing so under false pretenses. Much about him had changed during the war, but he wasn’t so past feeling that he was in the business of swindling women out of their sheep farms.

“There must be some other way to save the estate.” If he gave in now, when would the expectations ever cease? His life had stopped being his own the moment Christian’s had ended. And yet a part of him, buried so deep he rarely stopped to consider it, believed he must have been spared for some reason, some purpose. But surely this couldn’t be it. Helping save his home and family through deceit?

“I’m afraid we’re all out of ideas.” Sir Edward’s hands drooped at his sides. He no longer looked imposing but old and weary. “Please, Colin. We need your help on this. I…need you.”

The admission was the closest thing to approval Colin had ever heard from his father, and it filled him with childlike optimism he couldn’t completely squelch. Christian had been the favored son, while Colin had continually disappointed Sir Edward with his youthful charisma and a knack for finding trouble. But no matter how long he’d waited for his father’s approval, it still wasn’t worth the defeat of an innocent woman and a loveless marriage.

Even if they’d only met the day before, Colin knew without a doubt Nora was unlike the other women he’d encountered. She made him believe he was good enough simply by being himself. How could he destroy that trust by deceiving her?

He rubbed out a smudge on his goggles, his heart heavy and troubled. What would Christian do if he were here? Colin knew the answer at once. His older brother’s life had been focused toward a single goal—the conservation of the estate and the title of baronet. Colin might have hardened himself against disappointing their father, but he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Christian. He’d given his brother his word and he wouldn’t go back on that.

For whatever reason, he hadn’t died that day as Christian had. Now it was up to him to live for the both of them.

“Very well, Father.” Colin rose to his feet, his shoulders bent in acquiescence of this newest burden. “I will do as you ask.”

N
ora sat back on her heels to ease the aching in her knees. She felt as though she’d been scrubbing floors for an eternity. Her back was sore and exhaustion pulled at every one of her muscles. She’d been up late the night before cleaning one of the bedrooms so she and Perseus had someplace to sleep, then she’d risen with the sun to start on the rest of the house.

After tucking a few stray hairs underneath the kerchief she wore on her head, she rinsed her rag in the nearby bucket. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, loud enough to raise Perseus’s head from where he lay by the kitchen table.

“Did you hear that, boy?” She laughed.

They’d already consumed the few cans of food Nora had found in the cupboards last night, which meant nothing to eat this morning. She needed to go into the village to buy groceries, but she didn’t want to leave before Colin came to get Perseus. Surely he wouldn’t allow the dog to stay indefinitely, though Nora would miss having Perseus with her. The strangeness of sleeping in someone else’s house in a foreign country hadn’t felt so overwhelming with a dog at her bedside.

“All this cleaning not only makes me hungry,” she muttered to Perseus, “but warm, too.” She shed her sweater and wiped the dampness of her forehead with the back of her hand.

In need of a breeze, she went to the back door and propped it open with a rock she found outside. Cool air filtered into the room, bringing a sigh of relief to her lips. Perseus climbed to his feet and trotted past her into the yard.

Nora lifted her gaze to the mountains. They were like imperial queens arrayed in emerald satin and opal jewels. Never had she seen peaks so tall. They left her feeling dwarfed, and yet comforted by their height. Would they one day feel familiar, like the fields and trees back home in Iowa?

She returned to her rag and bucket to start on the hallway floor. Once she finished there, she only had the parlor and dining room to clean before the entire cottage was livable. A noise at the back door brought her head up. Perseus had returned inside. Nora smiled at him, but the gesture turned to a frown when she caught sight of the muddy paw prints he’d left in his wake.

“Perseus, you brute,” she scolded mildly as she tossed her rag down.

She shook her head and chuckled, but the sound quickly became a strangled sob at the thought of rewashing the kitchen floor. Nora leaned her head back against the nearby wall and shut her eyes. An image of life back home rose sharply into her mind, almost as if she were there. She could see herself seated at the piano, playing and singing, while Oscar listened, the smell of baking bread permeating the air.

Tears stung her tired eyelids. She’d expected things to be hard, at least in the beginning. She hadn’t expected this feeling of complete fatigue and loneliness—one she hadn’t experienced since the deaths of her parents when she’d been left to run the farm by herself.

Perseus licked her face, prompting Nora to open her eyes. “I know you’re sorry,” she said, scratching behind his ears. “I’m just so very tired.” She released a heavy sigh. “Not a chance you could clean up your own mess and I could crawl back into bed for, say, three days?”

The dog cocked his head as if contemplating her request. Nora couldn’t help laughing. How wonderful to have a companion again, even for a short time.

“All right, boy.” She climbed to her feet and shooed him back out into the yard. “All is forgiven,
if
you stay outside.”

Back in the kitchen, she surveyed the muddy tracks, her hands on her hips. “I guess this floor will be twice as clean.” She dragged her bucket into the kitchen and commenced scrubbing away the paw prints.

The repetitious movement kept her hands busy but freed her mind to compose a letter to Livy, one she would write out later. She must tell her friend about finding the cottage intact, despite the obvious repairs and cleaning required to make it livable again. Then there was the beauty of the mountains and the lake to describe, and the fact that she currently had no sheep in her field.

What about Colin Ashby?
How would she describe him to Livy? Nora stopped scrubbing and sat back, tallying up a list in her head.
Handsome, kind, charming, mysterious.

“That won’t do,” she murmured to herself. Livy would take one look at those words and start urging Nora to get to know the man better.

She couldn’t fault her dearest friend for wanting her to have a similar life to the one Livy enjoyed: a wonderful husband, a precocious little girl, and a baby on the way. But the death of a sibling was different than the death of a sweetheart. Livy couldn’t understand why Nora had given up her dreams of marriage and a family at Tom’s death. No amount of explaining could change that.

Perhaps she’d leave off mentioning Colin in her first letter from England.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and pulled her to her feet. Could it be the man she’d been thinking about? Nora jerked the kerchief from her head and stuffed the worn cloth into her apron pocket. If only she’d been able to accomplish more cleaning before Colin’s arrival. She’d hoped to show him a much-improved cottage and not the dusty, dirty one he’d viewed with mild disdain last night.

The person knocked again. Nora hurried down the hall and opened the door. Instead of Colin, a short, buxom woman greeted her, a bright smile on her round cheeks and a covered dish in her hands.

“Hello there.” Her accent sounded more pronounced than Colin’s. “You’d be Nora.”

“Uh…yes, hello.” Nora shook her head in surprise. How did the woman know her name? Had Colin sent her?

“I’m Bess Tuttle. Me and my children live down the lane. Next house you come to.” She tipped her head in the general direction. “I’ve a cottage pie for you, just come from the oven. Didn’t think there was much in the way of food here, not since Henry died. Quite sad we were. He married my mother’s sister—God rest their souls.” She placed a hand on her bosom and lifted her eyes upward for a brief moment. “Henry ’twas a good man and uncle, though a bit gruff at times. Can’t exactly blame him, though, as I’m sure you know. What with losing all his kin, saving our family.”

Bess didn’t pause for breath until she’d finished her welcoming speech. Nora gaped at her. Which of the woman’s many revelations should she respond to first? Her gaze dropped to the pie and she felt instant relief.

“Thank you, for the pie. That was very kind. Won’t you come in?”

Bess handed Nora the dish and swept past her into the house. “Sorry state of things.” She made a tsking noise in her throat as she glanced at the still dusty dining room and parlor.

“Actually, I’ve done quite a bit of—”

The woman went on as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “My Mary and I came over a few days after Henry passed, you see, and did our best to clean up. Not that he was overly untidy, mind you.” She walked into the parlor and ran her hand over the dark fabric of the settee. “I would’ve come several times more, but Mr. Green refused. Once I relinquished the key to him, he wouldn’t give it back. He’s a stodgy one.”

Nora followed Bess down the hall, as if she were the guest rather than the other way around, and set the pie on the kitchen table. She wished she had some tea. Wasn’t that what good British hostesses offered their guests? Embarrassment prickled her skin, making her feel even warmer than before. At home, she would have talked to Bess on the porch, maybe given her a glass of lemonade. But here, she felt out of place, a foreigner in a stranger’s house.

If Bess noticed her discomfort, she didn’t let on. Instead she marched around the room, clucking over the tidiness. “I haven’t seen this room so clean in years. You’ve done good job of putting it to rights, you have.” She glanced out the open back door. “Don’t you worry about your sheep neither. My Jack’s been looking out for them. He’s a right, good young man, he is.”

Nora recalled Colin mentioning something about a Jack Tuttle. “Please thank him for me.”

The woman shooed away her gratitude. “I suspect you can thank him yourself, if you’ve a mind to. We’d like to have you down to our place for supper now and again.”

“That’s very kind—”

“Jack had hoped Henry would give the place to him. Henry has more sheep than we do, but that’s before we’d heard he meant to give the farm to you.” She fanned her face with her hand as if overheated, though she kept right on smiling. “Why look there? If it isn’t Perseus? What’s the Ashbys’ dog doing here and without Mr. Ashby?”

Nora followed her gaze to see the dog lolling back toward the house, his tail wagging. How to explain? “Well, Colin…I mean Mr. Ashby offered to let the dog stay with me last night. I had a dog back at home, you see…”

“Yes, my Mary told me all about Mr. Ashby walking you down here last night. She works up at Elmthwaite Hall as a maid, she does.” Bess’s curved face beamed with obvious pride. “Watch yourself with Mr. Ashby, though. A real charmer, he can be. Though he hasn’t been the same since his brother died—none of them have. Christian Ashby was supposed to inherit the baronet’s title and the estate, but now Colin will. Many a wealthy lady has her sights set on him, and none too subtly either, says Mary. He’ll marry well, if Sir Edward Ashby has anything to do with it.”

Nora’s cheeks flooded with heat. She busied herself with brushing imaginary crumbs into the sink, so Bess wouldn’t see her mortified expression. She’d been here less than a day and already her neighbors suspected her of setting her cap at the baronet’s son?

Of course, she’d enjoyed her brief time with Colin and appreciated his help, but he was only being polite. A man such as he would never be romantically interested in an orphaned farm girl such as herself. As Bess had confirmed, he would marry a rich, refined young lady, and Nora, thankfully, didn’t fit either one of those descriptions.

“Now let me have a look at you, love.”

Nora reluctantly turned around, hoping the woman wouldn’t notice the extra color on her face. Bess’s brunette head barely reached Nora’s shoulder, but she felt like a child beneath her neighbor’s intense scrutiny.

After a long moment of silence—the first since Bess had shown up at her door—the woman smiled, her head bobbing with approval. “You are the mirror image of your mum, when she was this age.”

Nora’s own smile froze in place, then lowered into a puzzled frown. “How could you possibly know my mother? She never traveled outside of the United States.”

“Henry’s daughter Eleanor was my cousin,” Bess prattled on, oblivious to Nora’s mounting confusion. “She and I spent many happy hours together as young girls. I’d know her daughter anywhere.”

“I’m sorry but my mother’s name is Grace, not Eleanor. Henry was my great-uncle on my father’s side.”

Bess’s cheery expression faded. “That’s what they told you? Ah, poor Eleanor. Though it’s probably for the best.”

The hairs on the back of Nora’s neck rose at Bess’s strange explanation. Her earlier warmth dissipated as a chill swept up her spine. What was the woman talking about? “I don’t understand.” Nora shivered and folded her arms. “Who told me what?”

Bess paled. Her wide eyes darted about like a frightened animal’s. “L-look at me going on about silly notions that don’t mean ne’er a thing now. Just the ramblings of an old woman.” She laughed but the sound resonated with hollowness. Nora hardly considered her to be old; Bess looked to be in her early forties. “Well, I suppose I ought to be heading home now.”

Nora couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling still churning in her stomach. What was Bess hiding? She wanted to press the woman with more questions, but she wasn’t sure she would get any real answers. Perhaps later, when she knew Bess better, she could learn more. Although that didn’t mean she couldn’t do a little investigating of her own in the meantime. Colin might know what Bess’s strange story was all about.

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Tuttle.” She infused the words with genuine gratitude. Thanks to the kind woman, Nora could continue cleaning on a full stomach.

The blatant relief on Bess’s face told Nora the older woman thought the odd turn in the conversation had been forgotten. “Oh no, love. Call me ‘Bess’ or ‘Auntie Bess,’ same as everyone else. Nobody’s called me ‘Mrs. Tuttle’ since I lost my husband five years ago.” She let herself out the back door. Nora trailed her outside. “When will we be seeing you for supper?”

“Um...”

“How’s tomorrow night? Then you can meet my brood—all seven of them.” She chortled as though she’d made a joke. “Don’t know if I can hold Mary and the twins off much longer than that. They want to hear all about America.”

A vine of panic wrapped itself tightly around Nora at the thought of sharing a meal with a room full of strangers. Though the idea of eating alone, without Perseus, held even less appeal. “I would love to join you,” she heard herself say.

“Good. Now be sure to eat that pie.” Bess wagged a finger at her. “I’ve got my work cut out to fatten you up, I have.” With that, she disappeared around the corner of the cottage, still muttering under her breath.

Nora rested her shoulder against the doorjamb and released a tired chuckle. In Bess’s absence, the cottage echoed with its earlier quiet. Perseus meandered to the door. He sat at Nora’s feet, his head tipped to the side again as he watched her.

“I think I may have made a friend.” Nora smiled down at the dog.

Another unusual friend
, she thought wryly.
But a friend nonetheless.
The bleakness she’d felt earlier had disappeared in the wake of Bess’s kindness and happy chatter.

The scent of warm food teased Nora from behind. She pushed away from the door, feeling famished. She’d tackle the rest of her work soon enough, but right now, Bess’s pie smelled too heavenly to ignore a minute longer.

Colin halted beside the lane leading to Henry Lewis’s cottage. He’d put off coming to see Nora, choosing instead to fly until well past lunch. The question he’d been debating all morning still plagued him. Could he continue to befriend her knowing what his father expected him to do where she and her sheep farm were concerned?

He jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and released a low growl. If only he’d managed to escape earlier, before Sir Edward had found him. Though Colin knew he wouldn’t have been able to avoid his father forever. Eventually Sir Edward would have sat him down and repeated the same pleading request to save Elmthwaite. One that felt like an echo of Christian’s from that fated day three summers before.