Page 32 of Foes, Friends and Lovers
He smiled. “I want you to teach me everything you can about the Bellamy Hall estate.”
Caitlin blinked, then turned and slowly continued toward the front hall.
On the one hand, she was delighted that he was openly and apparently genuinely taking a close interest in the Hall’s enterprises. On the other, she had to wonder why. Was he merely wanting to get a comprehensive understanding of the businesses that underpinned the estate’s financial viability before he returned to his life in London? Or…?
Regardless, the prospect of having him by her side for another half day—at least—left her decidedly uneasy. Indeed, left her prey to conflicting impulses—to happily welcome spending more time with him or run away.
Neither reaction was at all like her.
She couldn’t understand why he made her feel so many far-too-powerful urges. Nevertheless, for the good of the Hall and all those who lived there…
She drew in a fortifying breath and evenly replied, “Of course.” What else could she say? She summoned an encouraging smile and trained it on his far-too-handsome face. “What precisely do you wish to learn?”
His hazel gaze on her face, he said, “You mentioned visiting other businesses on Wednesday and Thursday. Where would you normally go today?”
“To visit the businesses along the riverbank, returning via the weavers’ cottages.”
He nodded. “Perfect. I’ll accompany you, and you can introduce me to those who run those businesses.”
They’d reached the front hall, and he halted and arched a brow at her. “Do we walk or ride?”
“Walk. Riding means the grooms have to catch and saddle horses, and the distance isn’t worth it.” Briefly, she met his eyes. “Just let me fetch my coat and bonnet, and we can be on our way.”
Gregory was waiting in the front hall when Caitlin came down the stairs. She wore the same felted bonnet and full-skirted blue pelisse she’d worn the previous day; both were practical for the season and for strolling a country estate, yet also showed a degree of style that reminded him of all the questions about her to which he’d yet to learn answers.
Indeed, according to Snibbs, no one at the Hall had any idea of where she and her maid and groom hailed from other than it being “to the north.”
There was a lot of country north of Northamptonshire.
She stepped from the stairs and gestured down the corridor leading to the south door, and he fell in beside her.
They exited the house and set out on the path across the south lawn. After passing between the standing stones, they toiled up the low hill toward the ruins, but instead of turning right to the burial ground and the ruins of the church, they continued south toward the gleaming ribbon of the river Nene.
At the highest point on the low hill, Caitlin halted and waved at the vista before them. “This spot gives the best view of the estate’s lands by the river.” She pointed to a roof on the nearer bank, directly south of them and half hidden by trees. “That’s the Osiery, so called because they make basket ware from osiers harvested from the abbey’s old osier beds. Next on this side”—her arm tracked east to the next group of buildings—“is the cider mill.” She shifted to indicate a thick planting of currently leafless trees. “You probably remember the orchard. As you can see, it’s quite extensive.”
“We—my siblings and I—always wondered if the orchard dated from the time of the abbey.”
“I doubt the trees are that old, but the walls around the orchard might well be that ancient.”
“Or built of stones from the abbey.”
“True. Next, we have the leatherworks.” The group of buildings she indicated was some way along from the mill. “The bindery is on the other side of the leatherworks and fronts onto the lane.”
“Those are the businesses we’re going to visit today?”
“Yes, and the weavers. You can just see the roofs of the two cottages from here. Among those trees.”
He squinted and nodded, then looked across the river. “The estate extends on the other side of the Nene, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, and Bellamy Hall was lucky. When the railway came through, following the valley, they sited the tracks just beyond the Hall’s southern boundary. So Nene Farm”—she pointed to buildings directly south, on the southern bank opposite the Osiery—“and Home Farm”—she gestured farther east—“and Roxton Farm, on the other side of the lane but on this side of the river”—she pointed due east—“were unaffected.” She glanced at him. “Not all our neighbors were so fortunate.”
He raised his brows. “I can imagine having a railway run through your land, especially when it’s on a raised embankment as it is here, creates significant problems.”
“Indeed,” she said darkly and led the way on.
They descended the gentle slope to the river, to where a wider section, a small lake of sorts, boasted several islands.
“I remember this spot from my childhood. We often came swimming here.” The islands and even more the banks lining the pond were thick with coppiced willows.
