CHAPTER NINE
With an irritated scowl, Gabe tugged at his leather riding gloves as he hurried downstairs. The bright morning sunlight slanted in through the tall windows and portended a fine day. Good. He’d use that for his excuse for why he was up and gone so early. The truth was a darker spot on his character.
He simply didn’t want to face Helena this morning.
The thought of her only increased the agitation that had plagued him since he woke at dawn—no, since not sleeping a wink at all last night.
He had no good reason he could name for it except that he kept playing over in his head the accusation Helena had leveled against him yesterday at the village picnic.
He rolled his eyes as he rounded the second-floor landing. Damnation, she was right. He should have told her about the picnic.
He had secretly planned the event precisely because Clarissa hadn’t gone to the one he’d hosted for her.
But his intentions had been good. It had been his own foolish way of attempting to turn back the clock, he supposed, and to create a fresh start, not just for him and Helena, but for the entire village.
He wanted a clear break from the past, and the picnic should have been the perfect way to reset the wrongs that had happened over the past five years.
It should have demonstrated both his commitment to the village and how very different Helena was from Clarissa.
His late wife would never have set foot on High Street for any reason, while Helena wanted to turn the village into an extension of her home. He had merely wanted to prove all that.
Yet the road to hell was paved with good intentions, and he’d just galloped merrily down that highway.
He raked his fingers through his hair. It used to be so easy to make Helena happy. Now, he was second-guessing every move he made, which only worked to increase the tension between them. For God’s sake, he knew she wasn’t Clarissa. The two were night and day.
But he also knew the terrible truth, that Helena was capable of wounding him far more than Clarissa ever had.
The footman opened the front door. Gabe mumbled his thanks as he strode outside, then halted at the top of the portico steps. His saddlehorse stood in the drive as he’d ordered the grooms that morning, held by the stable boy who waited to hand over the reins. But beside his horse…
“Helena.”
She sat on the bench of a horse cart with Alice perched next to her.
The two were dressed in half-boots and driving coats, and straw bonnets were tied snuggly under their chins.
Alice’s face shined with excitement, while Nanny Potts stood beside the cart on the gravel and looked not at all pleased about whatever scheme had been concocted for the day.
The only description Gabe could give of Helena’s expression was sheer determination.
He continued slowly down the steps toward the cart and tugged his gloves into place at his wrists. “What’s all this?”
“My chosen activity for today,” Helena announced.
He cast her a suspicious glance as he checked the harness on the woolly pony hitched to the cart. “And what do you have in mind, exactly?”
“I want you to accompany us for a ride across the estate,” she informed him.
“Alice and I thought it would be a nice idea to pay visits to the villagers who weren’t able to attend yesterday’s picnic so I can meet them and deliver baskets to them.
” She smiled so sweetly the gesture made his teeth hurt.
“And we thought you should come with us.”
Ah, so that was her scheme. “An ambush, then, is it?”
Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Wherever would I find the idea to spring an activity on you without warning?”
“Where indeed?” he muttered. Just desserts. He grasped the pony’s mane and shook it affectionately with a pat to its neck “Unfortunately, I’ve already planned to spend the day at the bridge. The new workers are starting, and I want to be there to greet them and give instructions.”
His protest drew a pleased reaction from Nanny Potts, who placed her hand possessively on little Alice’s knee and waited eagerly for permission to pull the girl down from the cart and march her back up to the nursery.
Gabe didn’t fault her. The woman was surely bothered by all the changes that having Helena in the house was creating for her.
Her round face flashed hope that Gabe would overrule the activity and make Helena see sense.
If only dealing with Helena were that easy.
As if to prove that, she countered, “You have an excellent engineer and project leader in Caleb Parker, so let the man do his job. Besides, he should be the one to greet and instruct the new workers so there’s no confusion about whose orders they need to follow.”
“Yes,” he answered, deadpan. “Mine.”
She wisely ignored that. “You also promised to introduce me to the tenants. Maggie Parker gave me a list of those who weren’t able to come to the picnic.
” She gestured toward the back of the cart and the dozen or so baskets sitting there.
“Mrs. Brimley and Cook put together baskets of leftover picnic foods to take to them.”
“I helped, too!” Alice interjected.
“Yes, you did,” Helena acknowledged. “We couldn’t have done it without your help.”
Helena slipped her arm around the girl and hugged her to her side, and the small gesture of affection warmed Gabe. Helena and Alice were becoming attached. At least that was one worry he could strike from his list regarding his impending marriage.
Nanny Potts, however, glowered disapprovingly.
“It will only be for the morning,” Helena persuaded. “I promise that you can ride to the bridge this afternoon once we’re finished delivering the baskets and lecture the new workers all you’d like about how you think you’re in charge.”
Gabe grimaced at her teasing and rubbed the pony on its muzzle. Caleb didn’t need him at the bridge today; Helena was exactly right about that, and the sharp woman knew it, too.
“Do we have a deal?” she pressed.
He was reluctant to agree, given yesterday’s confrontation. But he also knew he wouldn’t win this argument and blew out a long breath. “Deal.”
With a parting pat to the pony’s neck, he strode to his horse, took the reins from the stable boy, and swung easily up onto the saddle. He wasn’t prepared for the look of excitement shining on Alice’s face or the happiness on Helena’s. Or the consternation on Nanny Potts’s.
“Nanny,” he called out to her, “enjoy your free morning.”
The woman pressed her lips tightly together, then spun on her heel and walked back into the house.
Gabe made a mental note to find some way of appeasing the woman and reassuring her that her position within the household was not in jeopardy. Then he tapped his heels to his horse’s sides and started down the drive, with the pony cart rolling beside him.
“Where to first?” he called out.
“Mrs. Mary Hansen,” Helena answered. The tails of her pink bonnet ribbons flew around her shoulders in the breeze.
Gabe nodded and pointed to the south so she would know which way to turn when they reached the end of the drive.
“She’s a widow who lives with her extended family in a farmhouse near the river pasture.
Her husband raised sheep on the estate, and now her sons manage the tenancy. She’s tough as nails.”
“Why would she have missed the picnic?”
“I don’t think she ever attends church except at Easter and Christmas.”
Alice piped up, “Can we not attend church except—”
“No,” Helena and Gabe answered at the same time. The two looked at each other and smiled knowingly.
“We have to set a good example for the village,” Helena explained.
“Even if it kills us,” Gabe muttered and sent his horse into a trot to lead the way and avoid the scolding look he knew Helena would level at him. But once he was ahead of the cart and Alice couldn’t see him, he chuckled.
They arrived at the Hansen farmhouse. Despite being surprised to see them, Mrs. Hansen welcomed Helena warmly and introduced her to half a dozen grandchildren who were running around the farmyard.
The weathered old woman, who was rapidly approaching her eighth decade, thanked them profusely for the basket of goodies that Alice handed to her and wished them well on their upcoming nuptials.
Their second stop was just down the road from Mrs. Hansen’s, and the delivery went equally well.
So did their third visit. Gabe was certain that his presence smoothed the introductions immensely.
All the people they planned to visit had been his tenants for years and his father’s long before that—some of the villagers on Helena’s list, like Mrs. Hansen, had been here when his grandfather had been duke, and they all remembered the Cavanaugh family’s commitment to the estate and village. They would never spurn Gabe.
Unfortunately, they all remembered his first duchess, too.
Yet, so far, Helena was winning over their hearts. Having Alice at her side to present the baskets certainly helped. After all, if they thought Gabe’s child had accepted her as her new mother, then certainly they would also accept her as their new duchess.
When they left the third cottage, he began to help Helena onto the pony cart, but she put her hand on his arm and stopped him. “Why don’t you take Alice with you on your horse? She’ll enjoy the ride.”
He stiffened. So did Alice as she waited on the ground to scramble onto the cart after Helena.
What he saw in Alice’s eyes at the idea wasn’t excitement.
It was trepidation. She’d never ridden on a horse before, and the girl could surely sense that he didn’t care for Helena’s suggestion any more than she did.
So he uttered the first excuse for refusing that popped into his head, “But ladies ride sidesaddle, and my horse has the wrong tack.”
“Not all ladies. Not the truly capable ones.” She dismissed his notion with an insulted sniff. “If you want Alice to grow up to be independent, then she needs to learn to ride a horse, both sidesaddle and astride.”