Chapter Three
FOR THE NEXT three days Lila made sure she was hiding in the corner of Uncle’s office each morning and was rewarded with additional details regarding Mr. Mortimer Luthford’s arrival as Uncle communicated with a variety of servants and workmen regarding the preparation of the dowager cottage, where Mr. Luthford would be staying.
He would arrive Monday morning and stay at Franklyn Farm for however long it took for him to secure his situation.
He would dine with them every night and be included within invitations extended to the household as a matter of course.
During all this time—three entire days filled with incredible tension and anticipation on Lila’s part—Uncle did not say one word to her about their guest. On Friday evening, after their guests—Mr. Riding and his young daughter, who Lila got on with quite well—had left, Lila turned to her uncle and smiled her most innocent smile.
“What a lovely evening,” she said. “I do so like the Riding family. It was a pleasure to have them join us.”
“Quite,” Uncle said, already lighting his pipe.
He didn’t smoke when company was about. According to proper etiquette he should not smoke in front of her either, but they were on far more comfortable terms and Lila did not mind.
He puffed as the tobacco caught, and Lila inhaled the smoky-sweet scent that would forever remind her of this kind man .
. . who was even now in the process of deceiving her.
She retrieved her crochet basket from beside the fire and settled into her chair, certain Uncle Peter would tell her of Mr. Luthford now that they were alone, but a full ten minutes passed with Uncle doing nothing more than staring into the fire while her tension increased.
Finally, when she could stand it no longer, Lila cleared her throat. Uncle did not look her way, apparently quite lost in thought. She cleared her throat again, louder and not very ladylike. He turned to her, and she put the innocent smile back into play.
“I took a walk down the front lane this afternoon,” she said with feigned casualness. “I had not realized you were renovating the dowager cottage.” In truth she had looked in every window, assessing what was being done, and then interrogated a painter.
“Oh, just taking off the covers and such.”
“I am quite sure I smelled paint.”
“Well, yes, to repair a water stain in one of the bedrooms. I fixed the roof years ago but hadn’t gotten to the damage left behind.”
“I’d have been happy to help manage such things,” Lila said, looking at her crocheting as though feeling a bit left out. Which she did, only not in the way she was presenting.
“I certainly meant no offense,” Uncle said.
She gave him a small but grateful smile and held his eyes with determined intent. She could feel his resolve cracking. Shifting. Until . . .
“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you, however,” Uncle began.
Here it is, Lila thought. She lifted her eyebrows expectantly.
“I’ve a guest coming to stay in the cottage for a time,” he waved his pipe through the air. “Mortimer Luthford is the son of an old friend, looking to settle here in Shropshire. I offered him the cottage until he could firm up his own situation.”
“Oh really,” Lila said evenly. “Is he from Shropshire originally?”
“No, no, grew up in Essex, but doesn’t have a great deal of connection there. He’s had a career in the military but is now returned to England and looking to settle in. I think you might very much enjoy his stories; I know how such things appeal to your adventurous spirit.”
Lila wanted to refute her interest in stories of travel and even war, but that very night she had plumbed Mr. Riding for more details of the time he spent in Spain following the battle of Trafalgar.
Maybe her desire for adventure was because, despite the fact that Franklyn Farm was her home, she had always known she was a visitor, though a welcome one.
Since having determined herself in love with Neville, however, she had tried harder than ever to talk herself out of such exotic interest in things outside of England, or even Shropshire.
Once she and Neville married she would spend the rest of her life in High Ercall.
The pang she felt at the reminder was quickly quashed.
In time she fully expected not to feel the pang at all.
“But Mr. Luthford is not in the military any longer? Did he lose a leg or some such thing?”
“Nothing like that,” Uncle said. “Only, he is prepared to make a home and family after so many years abroad.”
“Many years?” she asked.
“Well, not so many,” Uncle said, a bit flustered. “But he is dignified and well-bred. I quite admire his level of responsibility in determining to settle down.”
“After so many years eating off a tin plate he’s probably ready to be waited on a bit,” Lila said.
“Do you know, I wonder if he might take a liking to Mrs. Mason. She’s been widowed for, what, two years now and has the most conciliatory nature.
Perhaps we could have her over one night after he arrives. ”
“Perhaps,” Uncle said, but he did not seem to like the idea.
“And when does Mr. Luthford arrive? Next month?” She was attempting to make the point that it would be reasonable to have told Lila of his coming with far more notice than this.
“He’ll, uh, arrive on Monday.”
Lila lifted her eyebrows and widened her eyes. “Monday? Why, Uncle, that is but three days away. Why did you not tell me?”
“Oh, well,” Uncle said, pulling at his waistcoat and taking a draw on his pipe. “I suppose I just did not think it through.”
It was exactly what she’d hoped to hear as it gave her the chance to say what she had hoped very much to say.
She softened her expression into a smile.
“I understand,” she said. “He is likely so much older than me, and rather backwoods after so many years in the army.” She smiled wider at the confused expression that came upon her uncle’s face.
“I hope you will not worry that I might insert myself too much. I would not want to dissuade any women closer to his age from taking an interest.”
“Well, I don’t mean to discourage you from—”
“Not at all,” Lila said, rising to her feet and winding up her crochet—a scarf now that she’d finished Neville’s socks—while smiling indulgently at her uncle.
“I admire very much you helping your friend’s son, and Mr. Luthford will only benefit from your recommendation to High Ercall and your willingness to put him up for a time.
” She crossed to Uncle Peter’s chair and planted a quick kiss on the top of his head.
“What a kind, understanding man you are, Uncle. I do believe I shall go on up to bed now. However, do not worry about me overstepping my bounds. I shall be certain to give Mr. Luthford a wide berth once he arrives. Good night.”
It was a few seconds before Uncle responded with his own, rather flattened, “Good night.” Lila continued to her room with a satisfied smile on her face.
Were she keeping score, she would give herself ten points for her success this evening.
Uncle might still be in the lead, but she was not far behind and intended to catch up quickly once Mr. Luthford arrived.