Chapter Twelve
I assume that will help?
Nash studied Arabella. Apparently, her mother had not told her about dipping into her dowry to keep them both from starving after the late earl had cocked up his toes. But, since Nash had hidden their situation from his mother, he felt no obligation to tell his wife, either. Women were to be protected. It was his duty to provide for all the women in his life. Arabella, Mother, and now, his mother-in-law. He would get to the bottom of the lack of funds, and hopefully, the investment he hoped to join would help. Until then, it was his problem to deal with and solve.
“Everything is fine, my dear. You are not to trouble yourself.” He slammed the ledger book closed and stood. “Now I would like to take my wife on a round of calls to the tenants so they can meet you. Cook has put together baskets that we will bring with us. It is a family tradition. If they are all prepared, have one of the footmen load them into the carriage. I will make sure the correct carriage has been brought around.”
“How many will we be visiting?”
“We will try perhaps four or five today. More tomorrow.” He rounded the desk and took her arm. “I like your gown. It suits you.” He studied her head. “And your hair. You look very much the lord of the manor’s wife.”
Blushing prettily, she gave him a slight curtsy. “Thank you, my lord.”
Life could be quite pleasant when they weren’t at odds with each other. One place his wife was quite amenable was the bedchamber. That was where her incongruous behavior was quite acceptable. He also saw in her a desire to try new things. His blood warmed and traveled south at all the new things he could offer to show her.
He intended to make love to his wife tonight. Two nights of tucking her into bed with no more than a peck on her forehead were beginning to wear on him. In the time they’d been married, he’d only had the pleasure of her body once. Frustrated last evening when she had again fallen asleep at the table, he’d left her and retired to his chamber, alone.
After which he had doused his frustration with a few snifters of brandy. That was not a habit he intended to continue. He needed the release of a woman’s body and intended to have her as much as he wanted.
He’d dismissed his mistress shortly after he’d announced his betrothal to Arabella at Ashbourne’s ball. Loyalty meant a great deal to him, and he felt his wife deserved his loyalty, just as he fully expected the same from her. He would not tolerate taking lovers even once an heir and a spare had made their appearances.
The thought of Arabella lying in the arms of another man twisted his insides. Not that he was jealous. It was just that she was his and his alone. Nor did he intend to fall in love. That had never been his intention, no matter who he married. Love made for misunderstandings and hurt feelings. In addition to poor Wentworth, he’d seen other besotted husbands act in such crazed ways that he never wanted to be counted among their numbers. He’d always had an abhorrence of appearing foolish.
Nash was discussing the mixture they used for feed for his horses with one of the grooms when Arabella joined him. A footman carrying the baskets followed behind. Once again, he observed her as she instructed the servant where to place the food inside the wagon. She did, indeed, present herself as the perfect picture of a noble’s wife. Off to visit the tenants and offer advice and food items.
Her blue bonnet didn’t hide the front of her hair where the tight braids were fastened, the golden-brown locks woven into an intricate pattern. Even in the dull gray of the low-hanging clouds, Nash felt her presence like sunshine. Her smile was genuine, and warmth from her happy demeanor spread through his insides.
“Are we ready?” The excitement in her voice brought a smile to his face, and a sense of adventure. Never before had he so looked forward to tenant visits. Of course, given how little time he’d spent at the Manor since he’d gained his title, tenant visits had fallen off since his father’s death.
“Yes. We are all ready.” He helped Arabella into the carriage and followed her in. With the baskets piled on one of the benches, they sat together on the other bench. He took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers as the carriage rolled away from the manor and headed toward Mr. and Mrs. Blossom’s house, the closest cottage. Arabella turned to him. “Tell me about the first tenants we’re to visit.”
Nash rested his booted foot on his bent knee. “Harold Blossom and his wife, Emma, have four children. They occupy what used to be his parents’ home and adjoining farm. Old Ned Blossom passed on a few years ago. Up until his death, he kept his finger in their farm operation, giving Harold a lot of advice.” He grinned. “Some of it even wanted, I imagine.
“Harold and I, along with some of the other lads, spent our summers swimming in the pond—that is, when I could dodge my tutor.”
Arabella appeared shocked. “Your parents allowed you to play with the tenants’ children?”
Nash nodded and pointed out the window. “There is the Blossom farm.” Neat rows of oats and rye stretched from the back of the house and out a few acres. A small garden that supplied the large family with vegetables and herbs sat alongside the east side of the house. Mrs. Blossom had used the front area of the farmhouse to plant flowers. Even with four children to tend to, the house and yard were well kept.
Nash stepped from the carriage and assisted Arabella just as Blossom and his wife approached them, bright welcoming smiles on their faces. Mrs. Blossom carried a baby on her hip and another little one attached to her skirts. Harold stuck his hand out. “My lord. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”
Not standing on ceremony with these longtime tenants, Nash took the farmer’s hand and they shook. “’Tis good to see you, as well, Blossom. It’s been far too long.”
“Yes, it has.” Harold motioned with his chin toward his wife. “We have two new little ones since you last visited.”
Nash felt the stabbing guilt at having neglected the responsibilities to his estate. He had soothed his conscience by telling himself his duties to Parliament took precedence. Standing here with this hardworking farmer, looking at the land worked by the man’s family for generations, brought the realization that he had been quite mistaken. If, indeed, there were shenanigans going on with Jones, he truly had no one to blame but himself. He vowed again to make sure he spent more time in Suffolk, seeing to his obligations.
Nash turned toward Arabella. “I would like to make known to you Mr. Harold Blossom and his wife, Mrs. Emma Blossom. Their family has lived here for generations.” He took her hand and pulled her forward. “This is my wife, her ladyship, the Countess of Clarendon.”
Arabella smiled at the couple. The man tugged on the brim of his hat, and the woman did a quick dip.
“Oh my lady, ’tis a true pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Blossom smiled brightly at Arabella. “We were so thrilled when word reached us that the master had married.” She looked toward Nash. “I hope that means we will be seeing more of you, my lord.”
“That is my full intention, Mrs. Blossom. I am afraid I have been somewhat neglectful since my father’s passing. That will soon change.”
“We brought your family a little something from our cook.” Arabella held out the basket to Mrs. Blossom. “I hope you enjoy her efforts.”
The woman’s cheeks grew rosy. “Thank you so much, my lady. I am sure we will.”
…
Arabella knelt to the ground and spoke to the little girl clinging to her mother’s skirts. “Hello, little one. What is your name?”
The girl twisted her tiny hand in her mother’s skirts and tugged them forward to cover her face.
“I’m so sorry, my lady,” the mother said. “She’s a shy one, this one. Her name is Dorothy.” She tapped the little girl on the head. “Remember your manners. Say hello to Lady Clarendon.”
Dorothy shook her head back and forth and stuck her little thumb into her mouth, continuing to stare at Arabella with wide chocolate-brown eyes.
“That is all right, Mrs. Blossom. I understand. I was quite shy as a child, myself.” Arabella rose.
“Oh dear me. Here I am, scolding my Dorothy for poor manners, and I am leaving you to stand out here. Please come inside and have some tea. I just finished baking some biscuits.” Mrs. Blossom led the way for them all to enter the house.
It was a small cottage, smelling of sugar and spices. Probably from the biscuits she’d just baked. Two little boys sat at a table, sharing a worn book. One was reading aloud with corrections made by his brother. The house was warm and comfortable. Mrs. Blossom had made a cozy home for her family. Arabella was amazed at what the family had done with the limited resources they had available to them.
Arabella took a seat near the two boys and read along with them while still conversing with Mrs. Blossom. Nash discussed farm matters with the husband, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown at some of the information the farmer gave him. After about twenty minutes, Nash nodded at Arabella and stood. “I’m afraid as much as I am enjoying our conversation, Lady Clarendon and I have other calls to make.”
The couple walked with them to the carriage. Just as they were saying their final good-byes, one of the boys raced from the small house shouting for his father. Blossom grabbed the boy by the shoulders. “Whoa there, son. What is all the shouting about?”
“You must come, Papa. Daisy has Bessie trapped in the corner and is about to eat her!”
“Excuse us, my lord, but it appears my boy’s pet is in danger.”
Before he took two steps a wired-hair dog raced from the house with a small animal in its jaws. “Papa, look!” The child pointed and jumped up and down frantically.
The dog sprinted past them and huddled next to the carriage wheel, watching the humans with narrowed eyes. The small white kitten anchored between its teeth squealed and wiggled its body.
Arabella looked at the little boy. “Is that your pet there in the dog’s mouth?”
“Yes, my lady. That is Booker.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “And Daisy’s about to eat him.”
“How many times have I told you to keep that kitten in the cage and away from that dog?” Mrs. Blossom wrapped her arms around her son’s shoulders.
Arabella walked toward the dog, murmuring to the animal. The dog hunkered down, its tail moving back and forth as it watched her approach. “You don’t want to hurt that little kitty, do you, Daisy?” She got down on her knees and reached out, petting the dog. After a few minutes the dog laid down. Arabella reached out and rubbed the animal’s stomach, murmuring until she scratched under the dog’s chin, and he opened his jaw, dropping the kitten, who scooted away.
The little boy ran up with a box, and the kitten darted into it.
Beaming, Arabella climbed to her feet and walked back to where the adults stood. Mrs. Blossom thanked her profusely, but Nash glowered at her, wiping the smile from her face.
“It is time to go.” He grabbed her elbow and practically shoved her into the carriage. Once they were side-by-side on the padded bench, Arabella wrenched her elbow free. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that countesses do not crawl around in the dirt and rescue animals? You forget your position.”
“My position just now was to save the pet for that little boy. Did you not see his tears?”
“They could certainly have rescued the animal without your help.” He looked at her knees in disgust. “Brush your skirt. It’s full of dirt.”
Indeed, her gown was dirty. With quick movements, she brushed the dirt off and stared out the window. The man was insufferable!
After a while, Arabella’s anger had lessened and she took a deep breath. “I am sorry you were disappointed in me, but I felt the need to help the little boy.”
Nash waved away her comments. “Just don’t ever do that again.”
She swallowed her angry retort and decided to make peace. “How did your conversation with Mr. Blossom go?” She grabbed the strap alongside her head as the carriage hit rough ground.
“Confusing.”
Her raised eyebrows brought more information. “Mr. Blossom claims he has not been having poor crops or other issues that my steward had informed me the tenants were dealing with. He also mentioned something about the rent on his farm going up, and I never requested an increase in rent.”
“Sounds suspicious to me,” Arabella said.
Nash nodded. “Rather than jump to any conclusions, I will talk with the other tenants and see what they have to say before I approach Jones. That is, if I am able to locate the man. He has not answered my summons. Did you enjoy your time with Mrs. Blossom?”
“Yes. She is a lovely woman. Her two sons were teaching each other to read. One was a level above the other, but he was still learning new words himself. I assume they are needed to work the farm, but is there a school they attend?”
“No. The parents do the teaching. Naturally, some better than others, but one or two of the tenants’ lads showed some promise, and the local rector took it upon himself to continue their instruction once they surpassed what their parents had to offer.”
“I would love to see the day when all children may attend school on a regular basis.”
“Ah, I think I hear rumblings of rebellion from my countess. Are you favoring the Whigs, then?” He winked at her.
“Perhaps.” She gave him a saucy smile. “Would that put us at odds once again?”
He reached out and tucked a curl back into her bonnet. “More than we are now?”
“And here I thought we were getting on so famously.” When all was well, and there was no bickering about her animals or his expectations for her, she loved these little repartees they shared.
Nash leaned forward and murmured in her ear. “I look forward to us getting along quite well later this evening.” Before she could offer a retort, he cupped her chin in his hand and covered her lips with his warm, soft ones. She sighed with contentment, happy to once again feel the tingles in various places in her body at her husband’s touch.
Nash pulled away and tapped her on the edge of her nose. “Later.” He glanced over her shoulder and pointed. “Coming up is the Fernside farm. As a boy, I played with their two sons, as well.”
Still under the spell of his kiss, it took Arabella a moment to compose herself. Then she twisted in her seat to see a stone cottage with fields of grain behind it.
Nash continued as he rubbed the soft skin at the back of her neck with his finger and thumb. Honestly, if the man did not stop touching her this way, she would become a bumbling idiot. Then who would be to blame if she made an arse of herself with his tenants?
The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of the small, but tidy, farm. Arabella once again noticed very well-tended crops and family gardens. Whatever issues Nash’s steward was grumbling about hadn’t become noticeable as of yet.
The older couple waited at their front door and greeted Nash and Arabella with smiles, as well. It seemed as if Nash was truly beloved by his tenants. That was very comforting.
“Well, hello there, my lord. I was hoping you would see your way here. We heard yesterday that you were expected and would be bringing your new bride.” Mr. Fernside limped slightly as he moved forward, his wife beside him.
“Hello to you, Fernside.” He turned to Arabella. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Fernside. They are valued tenants, and their family has been with us for generations.”
“It seems to me sometimes, my lord, that I, myself, have been here for generations.” Fernside tugged on the brim of his cap and nodded at Arabella. “My lady.”
Mrs. Fernside offered a slight dip and fussed with her apron, her cheerful face flushing as she spoke. “May I ask you to honor us with a visit inside, my lord, my lady? Since I was hoping you would be by, I made my special apple cake.”
Nash took the basket out of Arabella’s hands and holding onto her elbow, moved her forward. “We are in for a real treat if Mrs. Fernside made her famous apple cake. Their two sons, David and Michael, would swipe it from the windowsill while it was cooling, and we all three would devour it.”
Mrs. Fernside wagged her finger. “Ah, but what you didn’t know, my lord, was I always made two. One I put up high so the lads couldn’t find it.”
“See, she was on to our tricks,” Nash said, winking at Arabella.
Another comfortable home, this one was quieter, with no children around. “I have lost touch the last couple of years. Where are Michael and David?” Nash settled himself in a chair at the wooden table as Mrs. Fernside placed dishes and a teapot on the table.
“Michael married a little gel from Essex. Moved to her family’s farm. David took himself off to the American Colonies.”
“So, you work the place yourself?”
“We cut back a bit, and once in a while my nephew comes by to help. It would be all right if it weren’t for the raise in rent.” Fernside ducked his head and blushed, obviously regretting complaining about a raise to the landlord.
Nash crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about this raise, Mr. Fernside.”
The tenant visits continued for the rest of the afternoon. By the time Nash and Arabella waved good-bye to the last farm on their list, Arabella was exhausted. Who would have thought playing lord and lady of the manor could be so tiring? And truth be known, any weight she’d lost with her illness had truly come back today with all the biscuits, cakes, and tarts they’d been offered.
Each family had been more welcoming than the one before. She found it a satisfying experience to visit tenants. Something she would certainly enjoy, along with caring for animals. Yes, life at Clarendon Manor could be quite pleasant. But first, she must get through the Season in London and Nash’s demands that she take on her role as his countess with the ton’s approval.
Once the carriage began its journey toward home, Nash placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. His large hand cupped her chin and turned her face up to him. Slowly, his head descended, his lips taking hers in a possessive kiss. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips until his nudging encouraged her to open her mouth. They parried and sucked and then he swept over her teeth, and her lower lip, where he stopped to nip, then soothe the soft skin. “I suggest we again have an informal dinner in your room when we return home.” He spoke against her lips, his voice deeper, huskier.
“It looks as though we will never use the dining room, my lord.” Goodness, her voice didn’t sound much better.
“I can think of many ways to use the dining room table,” he said. “None of them require food, however.”
Had he meant what she thought he’d meant? She looked up at him and then sucked in a breath at the smirk on his handsome face. “Surely, you don’t mean—”
“Yes, I do.” He leaned his head close to her ear, his voice lowered to a pitch that had her wanting to remove their clothes and feel him skin-to-skin. “There are also the many carpets, the chairs, the library desk, the settee, the gazebo.”
She drew back. “Outside!”
“Why not?”
The man was downright wicked, but a kernel of excitement grew in her lower parts at the vision of them naked in the outdoors.
“What I am wanting is an intimate dinner with my lovely wife, and delectable ways to spend the time after dinner.” He grinned. “Consider it dessert.”
Arabella gazed up at him, already lost in his spell. Thinking of the road dust and hours spent in the carriage, she said, “Yes, I believe that would be a good idea, though I would like a bath first.”
He bowed his head. “As you wish.”
Arabella’s heart thundered at this point. Excitement shot through her, and she could already feel herself damp between her legs.
As if he sensed her thoughts, Nash once again placed his mouth near her ear and ran his tongue over the soft shell. “Have no fear, Arabella. We will take our time. We have all night.”
Oh dear.