Page 37 of An Amiable Foe
“Miss Edgewood! Mith’ Tharah!” Joe’s children dropped the pebbles they were playing with and came rushing over to them, grins on their faces as they eyed the basket. A hissing sound came from inside, that of hot metal being dipped into cold water. Joe came out next, wiping his hands on his apron, and the children stepped respectfully back.
“Miss Edgewood, ’tis always a pleasure to greet ye.” Joe bowed to Marianne, but…did her eyes deceive her or did his gaze linger on Sarah? Did he also recognize her virtues?
Marianne could not be sure whether it was the hope of love in her own heart that awakened the desire that love might be found elsewhere, or whether she were truly looking at a potential match. But here he was, a widower with two children, and Sarah was eligible. Why could this not work? She peeked at Sarah, wondering if her offer to come sprang from deeper feelings toward the widower, but she could read nothing in the maid’s face.
Although it had been Sarah who gathered and carried the items, including her own soup, her maid remained silent. Marianne took the basket that Sarah handed her and said, “We’ve brought some of the extra food from our kitchen.”
“I’m right grateful.” Joe’s eyes lit up with his smile, and he shot a surreptitious glance at Sarah before returning his gaze to Marianne. “What can I do for ye? Is there something that needs repairing?”
“Nothing is broken. It was just an excuse to see the children,” Marianne replied. She left off that she was also hiding from home. How was she going to face Perry’s uncle at dinner tonight?
When her maid continued to remain silent, she added, “Sarah made some soup that she thought you might like. I imagine there is not much in the way of warm meals here?”
“Little enough.” Joe’s glance in Sarah’s direction was longer this time, but seemed shy. It was broken by the approach of his two children, whose curiosity had overcome their reticence, and who inched over to the basket. They seemed thinner to Marianne.
“Why do I never see Art Reacher working here when it’s his smithy?” She had meant for the words to be light, but she thought the smith’s behavior most unjust, and it showed in her tone.
Joe’s face hardened. “That’s a question ye ’ull have to ask him yerself—if ye can catch him.”
His sudden familiarity caused his eyes to widen in dismay. “I hope ye’ll forgive me, miss. I was meaning no disrespect. I bin out of sorts thinking on Art.” He left the rest unsaid:I’m to be his assistant and work for wages that can barely put food on the table, but I’m doing all the work myself.
Joe would not say it, but she had learned from Mrs. Malford, who was in tune with servants’ gossip, that he had fallen behind on his rent after his wife died and had built up a debt he could not pay. Now he was working as little more than a slave. There were many things that were unfair: her losing her castle and her uncle’s last-minute betrayal, Sarah’s inability to marry and have a family, Joe being forced to work for meager wages. All of this was unfair, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
After staying a few minutes to talk to the children, Marianne and Sarah headed back to the castle, the afternoon light fading. She idly wondered if Robert would come to call soon to see how she fared after last night’s debacle. It was not that she longed for his visit, but when she had been at the cottage for those few days, he had taken to visiting daily. He had not come to the castle once since Mr. Osborne had first arrived.
She supposed it was jealousy and wished she could have a more natural friendship with Robert. She had never thought of him in a romantic way—not once—and did not suspect that his feelings regarding her were anything approaching love. They had always felt more proprietary than amorous. And yet, he was her first and only friend in the village, pre-dating her parents’ deaths, and that was hard to dismiss.
“Miss Edgewood.”
They were at the crossroads to Cliff’s End when Marianne was pulled from her reverie by someone calling her name. She turned to find Amelia Belford walking her way with her maid. They rarely crossed paths in the village, and whenever they did, they did not exchange greetings. She could only suppose that Miss Belford had done so now for one of two reasons. One of them was to gloat.
Miss Belford was flushed and slightly out of breath, as though she had run to catch up with her, and her maid was still several steps behind.
“Miss Edgewood, I have been meaning to call at Brindale.”
And there was the other reason. Miss Belford knew that there was a handsome and eligible bachelor residing at Brindale, and as she could not call on him for his own sake, she needed the excuse of Marianne to call.
Marianne could not ask her, in the abrupt manner she wished to, the reasons for her proposed visit. She had not the courage. She could not smile either as she replied in a dull voice.
“That is kind of you.”
Miss Belford had now come face-to-face. She stopped and looked at her fully before glancing away. “I have not been a friend to you the way I should have.”
Her declaration surprised Marianne into silence. She did not know how to respond and didn’t rightly know if she believed her sincerity, but Miss Belford’s words offered like that could not help but soften her.
“You are kind to say that.”Oh goodness, no wonder I have no friends. Can I not think of anything more original to say?
“So, I wished to ask if I could visit you at the castle? If you are amenable to the idea.” Miss Belford’s expression did seem sincere, as though she hoped Marianne would say yes.
“Of course you are welcome, but you must know that I reside in the cottage on the eastern wall of the estate.” There was no point in telling her the history of the break-in and her move to the castle while four gentlemen were residing there. The Vernons would not tell, and neither would her servants. She would only risk public censure if it came out.
Besides, that was the other reason she suspected Miss Belford’s offer of friendship, so she may as well warn her now. “That means you will not have an occasion to see Mr. Osborne when you call.”
Miss Belford surprised her by waving it off. “Never mind that. It was you I wished to see. I am sure I will meet Mr. Osborne again at some assembly if he continues to stay on at Brindale.”
Marianne was nearly speechless. It seemed Miss Belford was neither gloating nor using her for her own ends. At last she managed a curtsy and something that might be taken for a smile.
“Very well. You may come when you wish.”
