Chapter 12 #2
For some reason, that struck Ellie awkwardly, and she did not care for the sinking sensation in her stomach.
Was that because of the idea of marrying for an heir?
Or just the idea of that handsome, maddening man getting a wife?
A new mistress of the estate who would not care one jot about the farms and the fields or how the estate was earning, and only would focus on new babies in the tenant homes and the color of wallpaper in the drawing rooms and if the maids who would inevitably be hired were worth the cost of their salaries.
Fenmore would change so markedly with a new mistress. Of course, it would change anyway with West in charge, but he wouldn’t care about the household details or the domestic details the tenants needed addressed.
Ellie loved every aspect she worked with at Fenmore. Domestic and occupational. The ladylike and the masculine. All of the work, no matter its forms. She didn’t want to leave Fenmore, but she did not want to be at Fenmore if she could not have all of the work.
And the only way she could stay and have all of the work . . .
“Miss Ellie!”
“Oh no,” she half hissed, half gasped as a particular voice of doom met her ears.
Fred put a hand over hers and looked down in concern. “What? What is it?”
“Mrs. Wickerton,” Ellie said through clenched teeth. “She visits her niece in the village frequently, and she is the biggest busybody I have ever met. Means well, I am sure, and yet . . .”
Fred paled at once. “You’re an unmarried woman currently living with two unmarried gentlemen. Can we make a run for it?”
Ellie glanced around quickly and spotted the short woman with gray hair and a youthful face bobbing her way towards them, eyes fixed brightly on Ellie.
Or more specifically, on the man whose hand was currently over Ellie’s hand.
Hellfire and damnation . . .
“No,” Ellie groaned, tugging her hand from Fred’s arm. “She’s already upon us, and if we don’t address her directly, she’ll spread what she thinks she knows based on what she saw and we will be engaged by morning.”
“I feel ill.”
“She does that.”
“Tell my mother I loved her.”
Ellie whacked at his arm with her hand, hissing a harsh sound that might have been a whisper as much as a warning.
“Oh, Miss Ellie,” Mrs. Wickerton gushed as she reached the pair of them.
“I was so worried when I did not see you straightaway when I arrived this evening, especially when I had heard from sources that the new Lord Bickham had arrived to take up his seat at Fenmore. You did not hear this from me, my dear, but there is much concern over the sort of man he will turn out to be once he has truly settled. Will he be active and humble and honorable like his father? Or will he be absent and spoiled and boorish like his elder brother?”
“Half,” Fred said quickly, stilling in near horror as he did so.
Ellie suspected it had been a reflex of sorts, an instinct, to add the clarification about Leonard where West was concerned, and that he deeply regretted saying anything in the presence of this woman. Doing so put him squarely in her sights and opened the door for her to walk through.
And nobody walked through proverbial doors quite like Mrs. Prudence Wickerton.
Where she truly lived, no one was certain, and how many nieces, nephews, or cousins she had who were willing to host her was rather unclear.
But she always seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once, sniffing out the best gossip and the greatest secrets, not with malice or strategy, but out of a vested interest in knowing more than anyone else.
A large heart tied to an even larger mouth.
Apparently, she was related by marriage to the area’s archdeacon, the Venerable Mr. Marlowe. No one had verified that claim, but no one was particularly bothered either.
The only thing one truly had to be sensible of where Mrs. Wickerton was concerned was caution, and the fortification of one’s secrets.
“Half brother?” Mrs. Wickerton’s eyes danced with this new knowledge. “How interesting. And you are?”
Ellie cleared her throat hastily. “Mrs. Wickerton, may I present Mr. Frederick Gates? He is first cousin to Lord Bickham.”
The older woman looked at Fred with a newfound appreciation and curiosity. “Is he indeed? What a delight! So you can tell us what sort of man the new Lord Bickham is?”
Fred looked at Ellie in a panic. The flouting of convention, where Ellie would have been able to officially present Mrs. Wickerton before conversation took place, was enough to jar anyone out of blank facades.
But Ellie had no help to offer, her position in this local society growing more tenuous by the day. She could only give this poor man a helpless look.
“Erm,” he began, clearing his throat softly. “I can attest to the man he is, madam, but I believe only time will tell anyone what sort of landowner and baron he will be.”
Mrs. Wickerton’s eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening. “A very diplomatic yet honest answer, Mr. Gates. Now tell me: Is Miss Ellie yet living at Fenmore whilst you and your cousin are in residence?”
Ellie let her eyes fall closed in horror and shame, her cheeks flaming.
“At the moment, madam, we have not found a suitable alternative for her, and I think the estate cannot do without her while it is so new to his lordship,” Fred said freely, his voice stronger than before.
“Lord Bickham is very concerned that Miss Williams be appropriately compensated for the efforts she has made before his inheritance, and throwing her out seems a most cruel act, do not you agree?”
“Of course!” Mrs. Wickerton exclaimed with dramatics that nearly matched Fred’s usual antics. “What a dreadful idea!”
“On that we are agreed,” he replied. “Mrs. Havens, the housekeeper, has also been acting as chaperone for Miss Williams while we see all of these beastly details settled. It is not, perhaps, conventional, but sometimes doing what is right is not the same as doing what is accepted as correct. What do you think?”
Ellie’s eyes snapped open as she looked at Fred, the confidence and charm exuding from him in waves that almost no one would be able to resist.
Mrs. Wickerton seemed to straighten where she stood, her chin lifted and her smile rather pleased. “I agree, Mr. Gates. I most certainly do.”
She nodded at them both and put a hand on Ellie’s arm as she passed her.
Ellie blinked and looked at Fred in confusion. “What did you just do?”
His grin was almost sinister. “I weaponized affection and gossip for our own ends rather than anyone else’s.”
“That . . . that won’t work for long,” she whispered, ripples of relief and anxiety washing over her.
He sobered slightly. “No. But it might just give us time.”