Page 45 of If I Loved You
Possibly grasping Emma’s response, the earl granted, “She’s working the purse holder, I imagine.” But even he grinned at the girl’s very obvious conduct.
“And quite adeptly, I should say.”
HENRY ARRIVED RATHERearly the next morning with his gig and began to give Emma quite a history of Perry Green, which Emma politely listened to, until she feared she must interrupt to mention that they needed to change direction, as the local village was actually not her destination today.
“Henry, I really haven’t any need in Perry Green just today,” she interjected while he drew breath. “Would it be a terrible imposition to ask you to take me over to Little Hadham? I have friends there and it is imperative that I reach them immediately,” she pleaded. “I know it’s a bit further away....”
Henry looked about as surprised as she imagined Henry could look, in regard to the change of plans. His surprise amounted to his brow—just one—rising almost but not quite to where his hat sat on his head.
But Henry was agreeable and soon had the gig headed west.
In Little Hadham, she found only Mrs. Smythe at their borrowed home.
“Alice is gone, my dear,” the old woman said sadly. “She wouldn’t listen to any of us, that she should stay with us. Met a fella, I’m guessing, hasn’t been ‘round in a week. I’ll be hoping she’ll be all right, ‘tis all I can do.”
Mrs. Smythe told her that her husband and Langdon were “about town” attempting to find an inexpensive gig or wagon, to bring them all to Emma when she was ready to receive them.
“Oh, you needn’t worry about that. I’ll send for you. That’s why I’m here—it’s all ready!” Emma said excitedly.
“So soon?” Mrs. Smythe looked bewildered.
“Shall I send the carriage ‘round tomorrow, or do you need an extra day or two?” Emma asked, but couldn’t imagine what might delay them, as they had no possessions to speak of.
“Oh, no, dear,” Mrs. Smythe said, covering her heart with her hand. “We cannot be coming until the end of the month, when the house’s lady returns. We promised we’d keep the house for her whilst she were gone. That was our deal.”
“Oh, I see,” Emma sad, a bit dejected, But not for long. “Tis all right, Mistress, that’s only a few weeks away.” She shared the information on the Daisies Cottage and advised Mrs. Smythe to send a missive when they were ready, and Emma would send a carriage for their short trip. At a later date, she would give worry to what, exactly, she would tell the earl about her plans for herfamily and the cottage, and also, how exactly she might conspire to have Benedict House’s fine carriage sent ‘round to retrieve the Smythes and Langdon.
Chapter Fourteen
EMMA AND BETHANY SETTLEDinto a regular routine over the next few days. Their mornings began early, as they had ever been up at dawn, either because of Emma’s work, or Bethany’s sleep schedule. They’d begun to walk into Perry Green as the weather was mild and allowed these excursions. The walk itself proved to be a bit tiring for Bethany and Emma usually found herself carrying the child more than half the way, but once in town, Bethany was enlivened by the goings-on and busyness of the quaint little village.
They made friends with the butcher, who kindly answered Emma’s questions about what cuts of meat to buy for stews and such, and even took the time to give her a basic start on the actual cooking of the meat. She’d decided that even with Mrs. Smythe’s eventual coming, she should herself learn to cook. Emma also found a fine seamstress, three doors down from the butcher, her prices reasonable for a few more gowns for Bethany, though Emma advised that she would have to purchase these one at a time. The woman, of French descent, inquired boldly of Emma what her status in life was. Rather hesitantly, Emma explained vaguely that she received a small monthly income.
“From a man, no doubt,” the woman said, her accent thick, her brows raised provocatively. She tilted her head a bit towards Bethany.
Emma’s spine straightened a bit. “Not exactly,” she said, her tone indicating that was all she would say on the subject.
Curiously, the woman offered her a job. She told Emma that her regular cleaning woman, who came three days a week, afterhours, had died only recently, and offered Emma the position in exchange for one outfit, either for herself or Bethany, every other week, in addition to a very modest wage. Emma excitedly accepted this proposition, for it seemed quite reasonable, and promised to start the following week. Madame Carriere gave a small mew when asked if Bethany might accompany Emma, until Emma made it clear that this would only be for the first few weeks, until Mrs. Smythe arrived to take charge of the little girl.
However, she despaired a bit over the time schedule. She wasn’t required until after seven in the evening, and she imagined the work—cleaning the two story modiste—might take several hours, and so she worried about having Bethany out so late and then walking home in the dark. But she figured she could at least try the job and see how it actually worked, and she kept in mind that it was only for a few weeks perhaps until the Smythes arrived and would likely help with Bethany.
Walking back to her new home once again, Emma gave some thought to the French woman’s question. How was she to explain her circumstance to her neighbors, or in this town? Bethany had been calling her ‘mama’ since the day Michael had insisted it was indeed acceptable. People would assume she was... like her sister. Or worse. She chewed the inside of her cheek, her frown thick while she thought upon this. She almost missed the sounds of a jotting horse and harnesses and wheels turning.
Just as a horse and cart was nearly upon her, Emma realized its’ presence and took up Bethany in her arms, keeping to the side of the road.
Emma turned as the cart slowed, shielding her eyes from the early afternoon sun while she considered the man driving the rig.
“Good morning,” he called, his smile friendly and handsome. “You must be Miss Emma,” he guessed as he stopped completely, while Emma stood just in the fringe of weeds along the dirt road. “I’m Callum MacKenzie, your nearest neighbor.” There must have been a question in her gaze, for he said then, “Henry told us all about you and your little girl.” And he wiggled his fingers in hello to Bethany, who only stared curiously at him.
“Very nice to meet you, Mr. MacKenzie,” Emma intoned.
“Can I give you a lift?” He asked, raising a thick and dark brow.
She liked his deep voice. “Oh, you’re very kind, but no, thank you.”
“Not puttin’ me out, miss. I’ll be passing yer place to get to my own.” He moved over on the bench seat. “Don’t be shy now, miss.”
“Well, all right, if you’re sure,” Emma agreed, thinking the offer would make it easier on Bethany. She lifted Bethany up onto the wagon, and Mr. MacKenzie steadied her while Emma hiked up her skirt and stepped up and into the vehicle herself. Once seated, she pulled Bethany onto her lap and thanked Mr. MacKenzie for the ride.
