Page 40 of Impossible
She hoped so, or this meeting could go very badly.
They entered the house, and Ada took Mrs. Tallent to Warfield’s study, only to find it empty. Puzzled, she went into the library, but he wasn’t there either. Perhaps she should have organized this in advance. But why would she bother when he was always here?
Looking out the windows to the messy garden, she gaped. There he was, elbow-deep in overgrown greenery.
“This way,” Ada said, taking Mrs. Tallent into the drawing room next to the library, which had doors leading outside. “He’s in the garden, apparently.”
As they stepped into the sunlight, Mrs. Tallent gasped. “My goodness. The garden is…in need of attention.”
“There haven’t been gardeners for at least a year.”
“I’d say longer than that,” Mrs. Tallent observed with a cluck of her tongue.
They walked past some overgrown beds to where Warfield was working—in the rose garden. Ada nearly smiled. Had their conversation about flowers the other night prompted him to action? Whatever the reason, Ada was shocked. And thrilled. This was surely a good sign for positive change.
As they reached the rose garden, he stood straight and adjusted his hat. Brown gloves encased his hands, and he was working without a cravat. Ada’s gaze was drawn to the exposed flesh at his throat. She was catapulted back to a few nights ago when he’d sprawled on top of her kissing her senselessly as she clutched at him. Heat spiked through her, and it wasn’t from the early afternoon sun.
“My lord, I’ve brought Mrs. Tallent. I’m sure you’ve met at some point. Her son, Archie, works in the stables, and her daughter, Molly, helps in the kitchen.”
He looked at Ada in mild amusement. “I know who Mrs. Tallent is as well as her children.”
Of course he did. “Well, yes. I’ll get right to the point, then. I’d mentioned to you that I may have found the perfect candidate for the steward position.”
Warfield darted a glance toward Mrs. Tallent, but spoke to Ada. “Her?”
Oh dear, that wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping for. She slid a look toward Mrs. Tallent. As expected, she appeared perturbed. Her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed. Perhaps this had been a bad idea—not Mrs. Tallent being the steward, but the way in which Ada had gone about it.
Stiffening her spine, she refused to let this go badly.
“Mrs. Tallent keeps excellent records of her farm, and I must say hers is the most efficientandmost profitable on the estate. She would be an excellent steward. Furthermore, you could then lease her farm, and this would allow her children to attend school, which she would like them to do.”
Warfield seemed to assess Mrs. Tallent. “I see.”
Ada held her breath. He wasn’t saying no. Nor did he seem annoyed by this beyond his initial poor reaction.
“You’d rather not be a farmer?” he asked Mrs. Tallent.
“My husband was the farmer. I’m just doing what I must to provide for my children. I’m not sure Archie wants to be a farmer either. He’s very good with the horses—Og will tell you. But he’s also very good at mathematics. Honestly, he’d probably make an excellent steward someday.”
Ada heard the motherly pride in Mrs. Tallent’s voice and felt a surge of envy. She would likely never be a mother—she’d have to marry to do that, and she just didn’t see that happening.
You don’t have to marry to be a mother, and you know that.
It was as if an icy hand reached across Ada’s shoulder. She twitched, hoping to banish the chill.
“I’ll consider it,” Warfield said, then turned back to pulling giant weeds from the garden.
“I’m still considering it too, my lord,” Mrs. Tallent said, making Ada tense. “I’d want to know that this would be a long-term engagement. My children need stability, and if I give up the farm, I need to know I can care for them.”
“Of course you do,” Ada said, looking toward the viscount. “His lordship knows that and would ensure you were content in your new position for years to come.” She gave him an expectant stare.
He grunted as he tossed a tall weed from the bed. “Nothing in life is guaranteed. Work hard and do your best. That’s all we can do.”
“We can also be kind and pleasant in our work,” Mrs. Tallent said plainly. The expectation was clear—at least to Ada. She wanted to be sure the viscount wouldn’t be his usual beastly self.
“The viscount is committed to change at Stonehill.” Ada looked from one to the other, noting that each seemed guarded. “He’s hiring retainers and providing aid to tenants. Indeed, one of the first things you’ll do as steward is arrange repairs on several farms. His lordship wholly supports that endeavor and will provide you whatever you need—cheerfully.”
Perhaps she exaggerated. Given the looks both Warfield and Mrs. Tallent directed at her, they knew it too.
