This was an entirely new development, John realized. Miss Wilton was to care for his daughter and was due to move in this very afternoon. He paced the library. For far too long he had pushed his daughter aside, anguished by the memory of his wife’s untimely death at giving birth to this child. Now he was being faced to acknowledge this child, and he was being asked by his aunt to actively participate in her upbringing.

Yes, he knew he must open his heart to his daughter, but he was still too anguished to reach out to her just yet. He would need more time. But at least he recognized what he must do. But he still had to find the way to get there.

He heard a horse and vehicle driving up to the front of the house. He looked out the window and saw a wagon with Susan and, who he assumed was, her father getting down. Standish had just come out of the house with two footmen for the luggage.

John left the library and went outside.

“Welcome, Miss Wilton,” he nodded toward the older man, “Sir.”

“Thank you,” Susan said. “Your Grace, you remember my father, Squire Wilton?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace,” Papa said, as he moved a bag to the back of wagon within reach for one of the footmen to take.

John turned to the butler and said, “Standish, make sure Miss Wilton is comfortably settled.”

“Of course,” he answered.

John turned back to Susan and her father. “Would you like to come inside for a glass of sherry?” John asked.

“Wouldn’t say no to a glass of hospitality,” Papa said, smiling.

John ushered them into the Library where he poured three glasses of sherry.

“Squire and how is your lovely wife?” John asked, being the perfect host.

“Most gracious of you to ask. A few creaks in the old joints, but fair to middlin’ otherwise.”

Susan stood by and let John and her father talk about sheep and weather. Then her father asked out of nowhere, “Sir if you don’t mind my asking, have ye heard from your brother, or naught, since he ran off on our Susan’s wedding day?”

John was taken aback. He’d not given too much thought to Simon lately with all of his debt troubles.

John answered, “I’m sure Miss Susan must have told you of her encounter with him in London, but as for myself, I have not heard from him and, unfortunately, I have no way of reaching him. He has cut himself off completely from the family.”

“Aye, most sorry to hear of that, Your Grace,” Papa said as he offered his glass for a refill.

John topped up Papa’s glass and then turned to Susan. “Miss Susan, please take the time to familiarize yourself with Haverford House, and feel free to walk anywhere on the estate. There are some very fine walks and paths for exploration if you are so inclined.”

“I should like that very much,” she answered. “And if you don’t mind me asking, can you clarify for me what exactly my status will be as tutor and governess? Shall I dine and socialize with the staff, or am I to share the table with you and Aunt Clarissa? I have no preference either way, but I would like to know what is expected of me.”

John had not given that any previous thought. On the one hand, she was the ex-fiancé of his brother, and as such should be considered as part of the family. But, on the other hand, she was a member of the staff and in some households would not be allowed to socialize with the family.

John answered, “In this large, and relatively empty house, it would be a great pleasure to have your company as part of the family. And, as you’ll be intimate with my daughter, it would be good for me to hear first-hand of her progress from the person most in the know.”

“Then if that’s what you wish, that’s what I shall do,” Susan said with a slight nod.

John hesitated but felt he needed to say, “But Miss Susan, now that you’re an employee at Haverford House, I think it best, for all concerned if you called me, Your Grace, in the future. I’m sure you can see the need for greater formality under the circumstances.”

Susan looked a little surprised but nodded gain. “Of course, Your Grace, I totally understand.”

Susan turned toward the window and looked out towards the fields beyond. Was she feeling slighted? John didn’t know, but he did feel his request was necessary.

At the same time, a cloud moved from the face of the sun and a beam of light shown upon her hair and face. He was suddenly stricken by her beauty. Not that he’d not noticed it before, but it was only now that he saw how delicate her features were, how lovely her hair, and how noble her reserved bearing. It made him feel at peace for a short moment. It caught him by surprise, but pleasantly so.

Susan turned to her father. “Papa, I think it’s time for me to settle into my new quarters. Would you like to see where I’ll be staying?”

“Aye, I’d like that,” he replied.

Susan turned to John. “And we’ll take our leaves now. And thank you for your kind welcome.”

“Miss Susan, Squire.” John nodded to them.

“Thank ye for the libation,” Papa said as he followed Susan out of the library.

John, alone again, found himself in a new kind of turmoil. Ever since Annabel’s death, he’d never looked at a woman with any romantic interest. And now, suddenly, he found himself not only looking but also admiring another woman. What did this mean, he asked himself? Was he being untrue to his great love? Or was he healing? He had no idea. And it frightened him—just a little.

And the fact that the Squire had brought up his brother also concerned him. He’d been so wrapped up in his own troubles he’d forgotten his concern for finding and reuniting with Simon. But perhaps this was not the best time to be searching for him. John had but one main concern just now and that was to save the Hollyoak house.

* * *

Susan loved her new quarters. They were so much larger than the room she’d had at home and she could see herself spending many happy hours here.

“Papa, you best be getting back to Mamma. You know how she worries, and I don’t want you traveling in the wagon after dark.”

Papa gave Susan a long hug and Susan began to feel herself tearing up.

“Please take good care of yourselves and give my love to Louisa. I didn’t have time to say good-bye to her. And let me know if you ever need me for anything,” Susan said.

“Bye lass,” Papa said and left, quickly wiping at his eyes.

After Susan sorted out her luggage she decided to unpack later but first, she wanted to see Aunt Clarissa and Elizabeth. She left her suite and went to Aunt’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” she called out.

Susan went inside and found Aunt at her writing table.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to let you know I’ve arrived and am ready to start my duties.”

“Oh, Susan, we’re so happy to have you here.”

“And I’d very much like to see Elizabeth, if I may. Would it be convenient to see her now? I know it’s a bit late in the afternoon but I promised I’d be back in a day or two and I don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten about her.”

“Certainly. Let’s go there right now.”

Aunt rose and she and Susan headed toward Elizabeth’s room.

“Perhaps tomorrow morning you could acquaint me with my duties and Elizabeth’s schedule. I don’t want to disrupt her routine too much at first. Later, if there are changes to be made I can incorporate them little by little. It’s very difficult for a child to absorb too much change too fast.”

Aunt put her hand on Susan’s arm. “I completely trust your skills and instinct. And if you ever need my assistance with anything please come to me.”

They arrived at Elizabeth’s door and went inside. The child looked up, and seeing Susan, rushed over to her and threw her arms around Susan’s legs.

“You’re back,” she exclaimed.

“Just like I said I would. Are you happy to see me?” Susan asked as she kneeled down and took Elizabeth by the shoulders. “Now then, it’s going to be your dinner time very soon, and then bath and bed. Does that sound about right?”

“Yes, Miss Wilton,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, please call me Miss Susan. I’d prefer that.”

“But Aunt Clarissa said I must call you Miss Wilton.”

Susan looked up at Aunt to see how firm she was on that. Aunt nodded that it was fine.

“Miss Susan will be just fine, Elizabeth. Now, why don’t you show me what you were playing with?”

* * *

Susan was settling in very well at Haverford. She loved her quarters and was establishing a fine relationship with Elizabeth who was already opening up more and more under Susan’s supervision.

Susan was an early riser and she began taking walks in the mornings before breakfast. She started by exploring the paths and trails closest to the house but was soon venturing farther afield, finding little used paths and quiet glades in the surrounding woods. It delighted her no end and now that autumn was more fully advanced, she delighted in tramping through the fields and forest admiring the autumn colors and falling leaves.

One early October morning, soon after the first frost, Susan was traveling back toward the house when she was surprised to see John up ahead with his two dogs. He was stopped just off the path where the dogs appeared to have discovered something. Susan came to where he was standing, but he had not caught sight of her yet.

“Your Grace, out early?”

John turned to her. “Oh, Miss Susan, I didn’t see you. Are you enjoying a stroll?”

“I am.” She pointed to the dogs. “What did they find?”

“I have no idea. They’ve caught some sort of scent, but there appears to be nothing there.”

“Our dogs would often roll in a pile of leaves for no apparent reason. We never understood that either.”

The dogs began to rub their necks and heads in one spot.

“There… they’ve caught a scent and are trying to cover themselves in it.”

“Why would they do that?”

“They probably want to track it and it helps them do that. But not today.” He slapped his hand on his leg. “Come. Let’s go. Come on,” he shouted and the dogs came over.

They started walking back toward the house. Susan looked over at the Duke, and he turned and caught her staring at him.

“How are things with Elizabeth? Is she responding to your instruction?” he asked.

“My, what a bright child. I’m so happy to report she’s doing very well. You must stop by some morning and see how much she’s opened up and learned already. She’s quite taken with learning her letters and I expect she’ll be able to start basic writing very soon.”

“Splendid. I’ll try and come by sometime.”

They walked on in silence. Susan could feel the warmth emanating from his body. She was surprised that it made her feel so comfortable and safe. She was tempted to put her arm through his, but it was totally inappropriate and she refrained.

As they approached the house the Duke turned to her.

“Miss Susan, I often find it pleasant to walk in the mornings as you seem to do. Perhaps we could walk together. Just let me know at dinner when you’ll be walking and we can arrange to meet the next morning. If that pleases you, of course.”

“That would be most agreeable, Your Grace.”

He paused for a moment then said, “You only need call me Your Grace in front of others. When we are alone, you may still call me John.”

* * *

John was visiting the cottages in the small village where his workers lived. He was looking for his chief shepherd, Robert Arnold.

John rode up to the cottage and dismounted. Robert came to the door before he knocked.

“Sir, out for a ride?” Robert asked.

“Came to see you. I know it’s your day off, but I need a word.”

“Come in, Misses will make a cup of tea.”

“Not necessary. And do you think we could take a walk?”

“Certainly. One moment for me coat and I’ll be right with’e.”

John stood in the street and looked at the children playing games. It reminded him of his promise for the school. Now he was more determined than ever to save Hollyoak.

Robert came outside, wrapping a scarf around his neck and putting on his cap. He was a worn looking man in his fifties.

“Ready, sir,” he said.

“Come, walk with me to the pens,” John said.

They walked to the end of the village where the sheep were kept when they weren’t grazing. They went inside the first building and leaned against the railing of the first sheepfold.

“Robert, you know how I’ve kept promising to set up a school for the children.”

“Aye, sir. But it’s been a promise a long time a-coming.”

“I know, Robert. I’m truly sorry, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you today.”

John looked into the pen and studied the sheep. “Here’s my problem. When we had that outbreak of blackleg a few years back I needed to take out a loan with my father-in-law. Now the note is due and I can’t pay it.”

John turned to Robert. “I’m telling you this in the strictest of confidences, you understand.”

Robert nodded. “It’s close with me, sir. Nary a word shall I say—not even to the Misses.

“I used Hollyoak as collateral for the loan, and if I can’t pay up I’ll lose the house and you all will lose the school.”

“Then what’s to be done, sir?”

“So my question for you, Robert, is—when is the earliest we can sheer and get the maximum at market for the wool?

Robert scratched the side of his bristly face. “I reckon it’d be at least mid-October. Before that, it’ll all be scratch and worth naught.”

John grimaced. That’s what I was afraid of. I’ve got to pay the loan by the end of October. And you’re certain we couldn’t start sheering now?”

“But it’s not just about sheering. You’ve got to bundle and transport the wool ta market. Then there’s the auction and how long is it before you usually get paid after that?” Robert asked.

John nodded. “A good two weeks later, if we’re lucky.”

“Aye. My point exactly.”

John just looked at the sheep and nodded. He turned and clapped Robert on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work, my man. I’ll just have to find another way, I guess.”

He turned to go.

“Good luck with ye, Your Grace. You’re a clever man. You’ll find your way.”

As John walked back through the village to his horse, he looked at the simple cottages. What kind of lives did these people live he wondered? Growing up in wealth and privilege he had given little thought to the day to day lives of his workers until they pleaded with him for a school. Now, whenever he came through the village he became increasingly aware of the plight of his workers. The cottages were shabby and drear and the children playing in the street were poorly dressed and certainly in need of an education.

It made him more determined than ever to find a solution to his problem, and it opened the door for thought about other aspects of his worker’s lives.

He mounted his horse and rode out of the village. But he couldn’t face going home. Instead, he directed his horse toward the open fields where he could let his horse loose and ride the rolling hills at full speed. He needed to feel the exertion of the steed under him—the wind blowing through his hair, scouring his face and stinging his eyes. He rode until both he and the horse were exhausted and he stopped at the top of a hill and dismounted. He stood looking back. In the far distance, he could see Haverford House. It looked small and insignificant. That was how he felt. He sat on the grass and let the horse graze as he struggled to understand.

What would his father make of all of this if he were alive? Never in his family’s history was there every any diminishing of Haverford. It had always been a strong bulwark in all of southeast Britain. He should never have built that house for Annabel. But how could he not? She was his life. She was his love. He felt at the time that he should spare nothing to please her. But then came the blackleg and there was nothing to be done but take the loan from his father-in-law.

Of course, in hindsight, everything always looked different. Could he have done other than he did? Would he? And in all honesty, he would not. He had made his best judgement and even though the outcome was not to be desired, he would have done none other than what he did.