6. Louise Approves
CHAPTER 6
Louise Approves
F or a day that had begun with gloom and apprehension, Louise appreciated her rapid change in fortune with Mr Jackson’s intervention outside the church. She was used to defending herself, and was far from a timid lass in need of rescue. However, having someone of Mr Jackson’s stature realise what was happening and intervene had been welcome.
His actions had shown her Mr Jackson knew how to size up a situation quickly. He’d also given Bernadette a chance to slip away from their cousin’s and the vicar’s verbal attacks. No doubt Joshua and Phoebe would be back in the bookshop during the next week to deliver another stern talking to … but that would be private, in their shop, not in front of the church with everyone in town bearing witness.
Reverend Millings certainly had plenty of fodder for next week’s sermon, no doubt. Louise could only hope some of the returned soldiers in town would cause a fracas between now and then. Surely a brawl would fit his definition of moral failures more than their humble literary trade?
The soup and crusty bread warmed her all the way through.
“It’s an interesting dish,” Mr Jackson said, “Filling, yet not too heavy.”
Lousie couldn’t help smiling. “It’s my late mother’s family recipe! She shared it with Mrs Haye long ago.”
“Then I am honoured!” he said, tearing off a chunk of bread to soak up the thick layer from the sides of his bowl. “What is it called?”
Wistful pride and nostalgia gripped Louise. “ Pommes de terre et de poireaux, otherwise known as potato and leek. Mama said all French families have their own version of it.”
“It is good,” he said. “I might order another. Would you like more?”
“I would, thank you.”
There was something so lovely about being in his company. Their walk through town had raised Louise’s hopes he might consider moving to Hatfield. It was as good a place as any other, after all, perhaps better than most… but then she was probably biased.
“Tell me about being a soldier,” she asked as their second serving of soup arrived. She wasn’t really that hungry, truth be told, but she wanted to delay returning home. Would he return to London on the morning coach? He’d already mentioned he didn’t like that city.
“Well, I wasn’t really a regular soldier in the end.”
That surprised her, so she raised her brows in question and remained quiet so he would go on.
“You see, I ended up in far more battles with accounts, than the enemy. My father was a banker, and I learned numbers at his knee. Some of my army superiors recognised I was good with adding things up in my head and made me a quartermaster. My accounts were so accurate, they began to suspect others were not, so they sent me to investigate them.”
This rang true for Louise. He’d spotted her mistake in the ledger, from the opposite direction, in dim light. “That sounds like it’s something of a problem in the army?”
“Indeed it is. People make mistakes, that’s understandable, but some were helping themselves to His Majesty’s treasury.”
Louise wanted to gasp, but she held it in. He’d been a thief-catcher!
He must have read her expression because Mr Jackson nodded and said, “Exactly that. I was good at going unnoticed, but I do still need to watch myself and mind my company. It’s why I’m seated facing the door, so I can quickly check who’s coming and going.”
“Goodness.” Louise kept her voice low. “How does someone as large as you not get noticed?”
He demonstrated by slumping in his chair to the point where his knees came into contact with hers under the table. She found that rather thrilling. Then he spoke using a Cockney accent asking which way to Piccadilly and Regent Streets, before returning to his faintly Yorkshire brogue.
A soft giggle escaped. “That is indeed a neat trick. I wish I could do that.”
He straightened himself and coldness replaced the warm sensation where his knee had been touching hers.
“You did it yourself not long ago, when you gave the French name for the soup. You sounded like a different person.”
“Oh, goodness, I did, didn’t I?” she realised. This man was entertaining and enlightening. “But all the same, you are rather tall. I spotted you easily in church. How do you not get noticed? I’ve never been able to do that.”
“I’m quiet and have a slouch, people assume I’m a bit simple. They completely ignore me and speak far too freely. If I’m slumped in the corner of a taproom, looking like I’m in my cups, I’m practically invisible.”
“You’re living the life of an adventure hero,” Louise said, her heart racing. “Like in a book!”
“Most of the time I am completely sober, while my back aches like the devil,” he said with a chuckle. “They don’t put the details about sore backs in the books, do they?”
Louise laughed along with him.
“Shall I walk you home?” he offered.
Louise grinned and joked, “But it is so far! Are you sure?”
He laughed at her jest and nodded. “I am a gentleman, perhaps contrary to appearances, Miss Baxter. I know how to behave, and that includes walking ladies home.”
He paid for their lunch and as they stepped outside he put his coat on her shoulders instead of his own.
The smell of him enveloped her senses. “That is very kind, but it is only a few steps,” she said. “I’m already warmed through from the soup.” Not that she had any intention of taking his coat off.
“I have nearly finished my novel,” he remarked, as they sauntered to the bookshop door. “I shall call in tomorrow for another, if that’s all right?”
“You would be most welcome,” Louise said, trying not to sound too eager.
“Do you have any books about Hatfield itself? Or the region?”
“We do indeed. They are popular with travellers.”
They were dawdling now, Louise not wanting to open the shop door and end this lovely day. The sky filled with dark clouds, mist swirled in the air, but they were in a bubble of sunshine of their own making.
Mr Jackson appeared to be stalling for time.
She asked, “Is there anything else you’d like me to set aside for you?”
“Well, I mean, we shouldn’t really talk about work on a Sunday, but I was…”
Louise held her breath, waiting for him.
“… wondering whether you knew of any houses for sale. I’d ask Mr Haye, but he might jump to conclusions or want a commission on the sale or something, and he might talk too freely.”
“Whereas I can make subtle inquiries?” Her heart raced at the idea of Mr Jackson moving to Hatfield. He was already turning her head, and now she was beginning to hold out hope he might stick around.
“Exactly that. I’d be most appreciative.”
Louise shrugged out of his coat and gave it back to him. “I shall make those subtle enquiries and with any luck I might have news for you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Miss Baxter.” He gave her a gentlemanly bow.
She bobbed a curtsey in return and wished him a lovely afternoon.
As she moved to open the door, he said, “Watch for the cat.”
Louise could well have been walking on clouds. She opened the door and took Mr Jackson’s advice to watch for the cat. Well, the two cats. They both leapt down from their perches and ran to her, but she closed the door just in time.
For a moment, she leaned against the door and simply breathed.
Replaying the day with Mr Jackson filled her with strange sensations and something she identified as hope.
Then she stepped on a pile of mouse entrails in the middle of the floor and yelped in shock and disgust.
“Oh good, you’re home!” Bernadette said as she made it down the stairs. “Come on up and tell us all about that lovely tall man.”
After she’d cleaned the cats’ ghastly ‘gift’, Louise walked upstairs to find Mrs Poole had the kettle on.
“You must be famished,” Mrs Poole said, “I’ll get you some soup.”
“Oh, no Mrs Poole, no need, I’ve already eaten.”
Mrs Poole and Bernadette looked at her with raised eyebrows.
Heat stole over her face. They’d find out soon enough; it was good gossip that she’d been seen dining with a man.
“Mr Jackson kindly asked me if I would offer him a tour of Hatfield, and I obliged. Then he invited me to lunch at the Red Lion as thanks.”
Bernadette grinned and asked, “Did he really want a tour of the town or was that a ruse to spend time with you alone?”
More heat stole over Louise’s face.
Mrs Poole nudged Bernadette and chided, “Mustn’t tease.”
Louise had to press on and follow through on the promise she’d made to Mr Jackson, though her face fair burned at this point. “He did want a tour of the town, and he asked me to inquire discreetly if I knew of any properties that were for sale. I said I would ask you, Mrs Poole, as you’d probably know more than I.”
The dear woman looked thoughtful for a moment, “I don’t know of any right now, but I can ask. Why doesn’t he enquire at the Red Lion? The Hayes know everything about the town.”
Louise nodded as she thought back to the activities he’d undertaken for the army. “I asked him that too, and he mentioned something about not wanting anyone to ask for a commission on the sale.”
“Does he not have funds?” Bernadette asked.
Mrs Poole tutted at that. “It’s rude to ask about people’s finances.”
Louise gave it some thought. She didn’t know what kind of funds he had, but he hadn’t worried about the cost of their meals, and they’d eaten enough for four. “I don’t believe that’s the case. He strikes me as the kind of person who keeps to himself and doesn’t want to be the centre of speculation.”
“You know him really well, don’t you?” Bernadette giggled.
Louise wished this conversation would end. “Perhaps I am speaking of myself too, I don’t like to be the subject of speculation either!”
Bernadette made a sing-song chant, “Lou’s in lo-ove, Lou’s in lo-ove.”
“Stop it!” Louise cried, covering her ears.
“You are! You are in love with Giant Jackson! Oh my goodness, I never thought I’d see the day! So, he’s moving to town and that can only mean one thing, he’s going to propose! Oh how exciting! I can’t wait for Marie to come home… maybe I’ll write to her about this development!”
“Stop!” Lousie pleaded again. Giant Jackson? She could see the name sticking to him like book binding glue. “Don’t you have families to deliver herbs to or something?”
“Leave your sister alone,” Mrs Poole warned Bernadette, who quieted, but still smirked at Louise.
Louise finished her last sip of tea, while Bernadette kept giggling behind her hand. She loved her little sister quite dearly, but if Bernadette kept this up, Louise would be threatening her with the crowbar next.
“I’m excited for you, Lou,” Bernadette said when Mrs Poole left the room for a moment.
“Please don’t be. Nothing has happened. I only met him a couple of days ago. For all we know, he might already have a sweetheart in London that he’s promised to.”
For that was the truth, and her belly flipped at the thought. She had met him only the day before yesterday. Whatever feelings she might have were strange and unusual, but there was a high chance she had read the situation incorrectly.
“You owe Mr Jackson your thanks for interrupting the vicar this morning,” Bernadette said. “He came to your rescue.”
“I did not need rescuing, I had the situation well in hand.”
“You didn’t send him away, though.”
“I did not,” Lousie confirmed. “I don’t deny his timing was welcome. He also created a distraction so that you could slip away unnoticed. You would do well to thank him when you see him next.”
Bernadette’s eyes shone with mischief. “So he is staying around?”
“He could be purchasing a house for his mother for all we know,” Louise said. All the same, her heart would break a little if he did not appear tomorrow to purchase another book. Not that she should set her well being on the appearance of a customer in the shop, but he’d said he’d like to buy more books. He truly was the first man who’d turned her head. It would be such a shame if this was the end of their association.