Chapter Six
Life at Fenwick Park had proven to be quite an improvement for Louisa, though she was hesitant to admit it considering that she had only been in residence a fortnight. But living in the country was so vastly different than town life and she couldn’t help but note the contrast.
Every morning, Louisa would awaken to the sound of a rooster crowing, just as the sun was starting to light up her room.
It had been difficult to fall asleep the first few nights.
Ribbiting frogs and insect songs had replaced the constant humming of the city that had lulled Louisa to sleep during her time at Uncle Malcom’s house.
But she had adapted quickly and now had a routine.
Once she awoke, Louisa would wash her face in the water basin next to her vanity.
She would unbraid her hair, brush it out, and tie it up in a length of ribbon.
Then, she’d wrap her hair into a bun and secure it with another piece of ribbon before changing into one of her morning dresses.
Then, she would leave her bedroom and make her way downstairs to the kitchens, where she would often find Mr. and Mrs. Crawford making breakfast.
Meals at Fenwick were meager to say the least, but they were always fresh.
Bread, butter, apples, berries, jams, and eggs were usual fare for breakfast, though other essentials like cheese, bacon, and milk were scarce.
Mrs. Crawford explained that while they had to buy their meats since they didn’t have enough livestock yet to fill their stores, the milk and cheese was a personal problem.
“A what?” Louisa asked one morning, after inquiring about the milk. She had been taking her tea without milk for nearly a week.
“It’s something to do with the cow,” Mr. Crawford said from the half barrel basin. “She’s lonely.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his wife said, rolling her eyes. “Cows can’t be lonely.”
“Then explain why she’s been refusing to be milked.”
“She’s not refusing to be milked. It’s just that, well, there isn’t any.”
“Is she old?” Lousia asked.
“Not older than two years,” Mr. Crawford stated. “The lieutenant just purchased her this past winter.”
“And she’s been a stubborn thing ever since she came here.
” Mrs. Crawford sighed as she pulled out the handheld toaster from the fireplace.
She turned and expertly delivered the warmed pieces of bread to a large plate at the center of the wooden table.
“But the lieutenant has a soft spot for injured animals.”
“Is she injured?”
“Not anymore. She had been part of a large herd a few towns away from here you see, when the lieutenant bought her. She had gotten lost and had tried to give birth to a calf in the woods, not too far away from here, but it was a difficult birth. The calf did not survive and by the time the farmer found her, she had been out in the cold, wet snow for several days.”
“Oh dear.”
“He was going to put her down, believing that she’d be better off.
It’s not lucrative to nurse a sick cow back to health, but the very day the farmer had planned to, well, do her in, the lieutenant arrived, looking to purchase a few dairy cows.
The farmer said he would be happy to sell him one or two, as it was still early in the winter, but he needed to put this one down first.”
“But the lieutenant intervened and instead of getting two proper cows, we now have a moody animal that refuses to produce.”
“Because she’s sad,” Mr. Crawford added.
“Would you stop pretending that a cow can have feelings.”
“I’m not pretending. It’s lunacy to think a cow can’t have feelings.”
“Not this argument again,” Mrs. Crawford mumbled as she and her husband bickered back and forth about the emotional intelligence of farm animals.
Louisa couldn’t help but be entertained as the couple argued, while she ate her toast that had been slathered with butter and blackberry jam. After breakfast, she decided that her first order of business would be to visit the sad cow. But she had not expected a menagerie.
The stables sat at the far end of the property, to the west. A newly built horse paddock stood behind a freshly whitewashed barn with a thatched roof.
It had only taken her about fifteen minutes to walk from the main house, but to Louisa’s astonishment, there were dozens of animals moving in and out of the barn of their own volition.
At least two dozen ducks and chickens were scratching and eating dried oats that had been cast all over the dry dirt just outside of the barn door.
Without any footmen or tenants to guide her or tell her where to go, Louisa almost felt like she was trespassing. Of course, that was silly. She was the lady of the house after all. Still, she was tentative when she entered the barn, for fear that she might startle any of the animals within.
Of course, she needn’t have been so worried. For there in the very first stall to her left stood Rhys, petting the cow’s forehead as it ate something from his hand.
“Oh. I didn’t know you were here,” she said as she turned to leave.
“It’s all right,” he said instantly, causing her to stop. She glanced at him and he bent his head to the side. “What are you doing out here?”
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford were telling me about the sad cow, and I thought I might, well, see for myself.” She took a step forward. “Is that her?”
He nodded.
“This is Honey.”
“Honey? What a sweet name,” she said coming forward. Gently, she lifted her hand and with an encouraging nod from Rhys, she touched the animal’s nose. “Oh my, she’s so soft.”
“She is.”
Louisa continued to pet her for a few moments before continuing.
“Is she really sad or is Mr. Crawford having a laugh at my expense?”
“Oh no. Mr. Crawford believes she’s quite depressed. But I’m afraid there’s no helping it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t speak cow,” he said, which caused her to laugh.
The smile that appeared on his face gave Louisa an outrageous feeling of contentment. Would that she could bask in his smile forever, she thought, before remembering their conversation.
“No, of course you don’t. But perhaps she would like a friend? Maybe another cow or two? I imagine it would be lonely, particularly when all the other animals seem to have friends.”
He glanced at her.
“Do you really believe that animals like Honey can be depressed?”
“I don’t see why not. They’re no less real than you and I.
They eat, breathe, and sleep. It would make sense that they would feel things like happiness or discontentment.
” She looked deeply into one of Honey’s large, black eyes.
“Truly, we know that dogs can be happy, sad, and the like. I don’t see why cows would be any different. Or any animal for that matter.”
He nodded.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Louisa watched her husband as he patted Honey’s head and bent down to grab a wooden bucket of oats.
“May I ask you something?”
He glanced up.
“What?”
Drat. She had forgotten about his hearing. Wanting to make sure he understood her, she took a step forward, so that only a few inches separated them.
“I said, may I ask you something.”
Rhys’s pupils dilated as he stared at her.
“Of course,” he said gruffly.
“Why do you have all these animals? I mean, I’m aware that your goal is to run an operational estate, and farm animals are essential to that, but why Honey?
Why the cat with the missing eye from the inn?
” She paused, trying to understand. “It seems that you’ve only gathered animals that are half useful. ”
That was perhaps the wrong thing to say, as Rhys’s expression turned cold.
“I don’t see them as half useful.” He glanced at Honey.
“In fact, I dare say they are more useful. Every eyeless cat or three-legged dog or production stunted cow shouldn’t be counted as less because of their shortcomings.
Just this morning, Cyclops caught three mice, and I bet he’ll catch at least a dozen more before the day is over.
And Chauncy over there.” He pointed to an old sheepdog lying in a pile of hay next to a dozen baby sheep.
“He might be missing a leg, but I wouldn’t trust those little lambs with any other dog, the way he protects them. ”
“And Honey?” Louisa attempted.
“And Honey here, well, she’s just not come into her own, that’s all,” he said stubbornly. “But none of these animals are only half useful. They’re more determined, more focused, more—”
But Rhys’s words died away the moment Louisa’s hand touched his forearm. She hadn’t meant to agitate him, but he had become very passionate about the animals all of a sudden and she wasn’t sure how to express that while she did find it odd, she wasn’t against it.
His dark, guarded expression made her sympathetic.
“I agree with you,” she said firmly, so as not to let him believe she was only trying to placate him.
“I don’t think animals should be tossed aside when they become less than some arbitrary standard that humans have placed on them.
” Her fingers tightened ever so lightly on his arm.
“But I do think Honey could use a companion.”
It was wonderous to watch his face go from bitterly defiant to suspicious, to acceptance. Neither spoke for a long time. They only stared at each other, seemingly trying to read the other person’s thoughts.
Then.
“I apologize about my temper,” Rhys began. “I’m afraid I become irrational when I talk about animals.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” she answered. “Have you always loved animals with such passion?”
“No, actually,” he said, as he held out his arm to her. She took it as they exited the barn. To her surprise, Chauncy the dog and his lambs followed them out, one by one. “I didn’t really ever care about animals before the war.”
“Something happened there that changed your heart?”
“Nothing in particular,” he said as a spring breeze rushed past them.
“But a few weeks after I returned to London from the war, I was invited out to some dastardly place where there were bets being made of dog fighting. I had seen it before and hadn’t cared about it one way or the other, and yet, I couldn’t stomach it.
I watched two terriers nearly murder Chauncy and I became physically ill over it.
I nearly fought everyone in that gaming hell that night, but I left with him.
” He bent down and ruffled the dog’s long fur, before looking up at Louisa.
“I’m sure it all sounds ridiculous to you. ”
“No,” she said, instantly bending down on her heels. “I think it’s quite noble.”
He shook his head.
“Please don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”
Louisa couldn’t understand that, either. Time and time again, her husband was proving to be the most honorable, noble person she had ever met, and yet every time it was mentioned, he would cringe away from it.
“Then I won’t call you that,” she said, before adding, “But I will be thinking it.”
And then, before he could counter, she leaned forward and kissed him.
It must have stunned him just as much as it stunned her, because neither moved except for where their lips touched. It was a chaste kiss and Louisa, unlearned in these sorts of things, began to pull back when suddenly one of his large hands was at the back of her head, pulling her closer.
His tongue swept into her mouth, seeking something she couldn’t name. It felt wonderful and right and she couldn’t help but lean forward. Her hands went up to his collar, in an effort to anchor herself to him, but in the next moment, he broke their kiss to stand, as he pulled her up with him.
Slightly dizzy, Louisa blinked several times as the warm spring sun shone down from behind him, causing a halo-like effect around his head. She could vaguely taste the tea he had for breakfast linger on her own lips and she licked them.
Rhys made some sort of growling noise.
“What do you want, Louisa?” He spoke so softly she barely heard him. “Tell me.”
Tell him? Tell him what exactly? That she didn’t understand why they were sleeping in different rooms?
That she didn’t know how to play whatever game it was he insisted on playing?
Or perhaps she should she tell him what she wanted, but even now, standing in front of her husband, she couldn’t put it into words.
She wanted him to read her mind. To do all the things she was only brave enough to imagine, but too cowardly to say out loud. But as the seconds passed, Rhys pulled away and she did not stop him.
“Why? Why do I have to say it out loud?”
“I think the better question is, why can’t you say it out loud?”
“Because I’m embarrassed,” she said breathlessly as she looked down. “I don’t know what I want.”
But his curled fingers came up beneath her chin and tilted her head back.
“What was that?”
She exhaled and stared directly into his dark eyes.
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Then there’s no sense in doing anything until you do.”
She shook her head.
“But isn’t that frustrating? I mean, on your part?”
“No. I’m a patient man, Louisa. I’m not in any particular rush.”
Well, that was wonderful for him, she thought, as he turned to return to his work. But she was sure that there was something missing between them and it wouldn’t be long before she made an absolute fool of herself in front of him.
Oh, how she wished she were brave enough to do so now.