Chapter 22 #2
Julian's eyes lit with immediate understanding. "Exactly. The foundling home has two boys who could benefit from learning a trade. If the community supported their apprenticeship, everyone would benefit from additional skilled labor."
I couldn’t be happier with that suggestion. It was like a community really taking ownership for its own, including the orphans.
We spent an hour working out the details of such an arrangement, with Julian providing financial backing and me coordinating community involvement. The Coopers were enthusiastic about the prospect, and I could already envision how proud young Tom would be to learn a respected trade.
"You work well together," Mrs. Cooper observed as we prepared to leave. "It's wonderful to see the estates cooperating for everyone's benefit."
As we rode toward our final stop, I found myself stealing glances at Julian.
The afternoon's work had reminded me of everything I had valued about our partnership during estate management discussions.
His intelligence, his genuine care for people's welfare, his ability to see practical solutions to complex problems. I smiled to myself.
And he did of course bring to mind other benefits to his new identity that I might admit to also appreciating.
More than that, I had enjoyed his company. Despite everything that stood between us, despite my carefully maintained distance, I had felt the familiar pleasure of working alongside someone who understood my priorities and shared my values.
At the Henley cottage, we found the elderly man putting finishing touches on a collection of wooden toys that took my breath away. Each piece was beautifully crafted, clearly made with love and considerable skill.
"Mr. Henley, these are remarkable," I said, examining a delicate wooden horse with a flowing mane.
"This rocking horse is particularly fine," Julian added, running his hand over the smooth curves. "Any child would treasure such a gift."
"Made me happy to have useful work," Mr. Henley said with obvious pride. "Especially knowing they're for children who haven't had much to call their own."
"The children will be absolutely delighted," I assured him. "These aren't just toys—they're works of art."
As Julian helped load the toys into my cart with careful attention to protecting the delicate craftsmanship, I found myself watching the gentle way he handled each piece. There was something deeply attractive about a man who understood the value of beautiful, well-made things.
"Shall I ride back with you?" he asked as we prepared to part ways. "I'm heading in that direction anyway?”
I hesitated for only a moment. "I’d like that."
We sent the cart on up ahead to Wyndham Hall and Mrs. Fletcher while we continued on horseback.
The ride back was filled with easy conversation about the day's discoveries—Mr. Henley's unexpected artistic talents, the Coopers' enthusiasm for the apprenticeship program, Mrs. Morrison's plans for Christmas baking.
We discussed logistics for coordinating community efforts and shared observations about the genuine warmth with which our charitable work was being received.
"People want to help," Julian observed. "Sometimes they just need organization and leadership to channel their generosity."
"And to know that their efforts will be valued and put to good use."
“Hmm.” I smiled, content to listen to him.
"The children are going to have a remarkable Christmas," he continued, apparently unaware of my thoughts. "What you've organized will create memories they'll treasure for the rest of their lives."
"We've organized," I corrected quietly.
"Led by you. Inspired by your vision of what those children deserve."
As the manor came into view, I felt an unexpected reluctance for the afternoon to end.
Working with Julian had felt so natural, so right, that I had temporarily forgotten about deception and betrayal and broken trust. For a few hours, we had simply been two people committed to the same goals, using our respective resources to make life better for others.
"Thank you for your help today," I said as we reached the outer garden gate.
“My pleasure. I’ve already told you how much I enjoyed it.
” He climbed down off his horse. “Allow me to help you.” As he came around the side of Honey, he reached his hands up and wrapped them around my hips.
With almost effortless ease, he lifted me off the saddle and lowered me slowly and carefully to the ground in front of him.
“A steward would never have dared be so close to you as this.” He whispered, his face looking tenderly down into mine.
“I don’t know if I even dare, but there are some things I cannot resist, and a moment with you like this is one of them.
” He smiled, his eyes lighting my soul, before stepping back.
It was only then that I dared breathe.
He reached for Honey’s reins. “Shall I return her to the stables?”
“I’d like to come.” I blurted out rather abruptly but then mastered myself. “That is, I’d like to brush her myself.”
Approval lit his face. “Then let’s go together.”
We walked along side by side in comfortable silence until I shared my wandering musing. “I used to have a horse named Honey.”
“You did?” He turned to me in astonishment. “I knew she was meant to be yours.”
“She is my most favorite childhood memory.” I patted her on the flank. “I’ll ride her every day even if I have nowhere to go.”
He chuckled at that. “I too like to ride.” He paused a breath or two. “Perhaps we could go together? The morning hours offer a majestic calm and wonderful views up on the ridge.” He did not meet my gaze but continued to walk at my side.
I considered his offer. I of course wanted nothing more, but it made sense logically.
If I was to know him better, to learn who was the man behind the different names, I needed moments like this one.
It would also help if we were to work so closely together all the time, and he was, afterall, my nearest neighbor.
I laughed to myself, knowing I was a goner.
“I’d like that. Meet me at the stables tomorrow morning? ”
“Excellent.” He grinned. “Thank you, Eliza.”
I didn’t correct his use of my name. I might the next time, but our day had been so good so far. I wished for it to remain.
We brushed down Honey together and then his mount which I learned he’d called Butter. Apparently, his parents had purchased them together. I was riding a very special horse, not just an extra spare they needed to exercise.
We stood side by side, our bodies touching at times, our hands brushing as we worked on the horses’ coats until they gleamed in the candlelight.
He tossed our brushes in the bucket hanging on the far wall. “Thank you for today.” He collected his things. “I’ll not soon forget.”
“I too enjoyed it.” My face heat.
He stepped closer and reached a hand out slowly and carefully, brushing aside a bit of hair hanging lower on my face. He studied me for a moment more. “I never thought to meet someone like you.”
I could not look away, mesmerized by his attention.
“I don’t suppose I will ever deserve you, but I will thank you Aunt Cecily in the heavens every day for bringing you here.”
My hand found the side of his face of its own volition. I rested it there a moment before I stepped back. Then I turned to walk out of the barn and up the path toward the manor.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He called out behind me, a hint of boyish charm in his tone.
“Bright and early.” I waved over my shoulder.
“Good then.”
I resisted the urge to turn and wave at him forty times though I knew he watched me. I could just feel his gaze. It was not unwelcome. Neither were his bold flirtations. I just didn’t know what I should do about any of it, not really.
And that was all right, for now.