Sheffield

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It had been a month since Miss Benning returned to Sheffield. William's illness had little changed and she felt the strain of it gnawing fastidiously at her bones. The summer had proved sultry and arid with the field crops struggling and the gardens faring little better. Miss Benning felt the weight of her absence grow heavier with each day she passed shut in Sheffield praying William would improve. When she was not by his bed, Miss Benning found sanctuary in the library where she could get a dose of precious sleep or run harvest estimations as she was when Wimbley entered the room. Wimbley and LaCroix had graciously stayed at Sheffield since their speedy return from France. Miss Benning found their assistance to be invaluable and yearned for a way to repay them.

Miss Benning had conducted her inspection of LaCroix's character and found him to be forthright and gracious though not prone to Wimbley's imperviously jovial humor he was mild mannered on the whole but, as with most Frenchmen, felt with deep emotion. Not an overly handsome man but he doted on Wimbley and it seemed to Miss Benning their characters were different enough to fit perfectly together creating a whole organism that she loved above all but her family.

"Ace, you look as though you have aged fifty years." Wimbley cracked a smile as Miss Benning glared at him. "You really should get more rest or you will be the old maid you have so long hoped to become." "I see and I was feeling generous but tease me you must and I feel not at all generous now." She closed the register she had been studying and leaned back in her chair. Wimbley filled two glasses with brandy and handed one to Miss Benning, "As was I, I could have told you how you really look." Pulling the glass from his hand she could not stop the corner of her mouth from rising. "Ha! I have been successful. I do believe it was in Paris the last time I saw the hint of a smile on your face," Wimbley exclaimed happily.

Miss Benning stared into her glass for several minutes before taking a drink. She sighed deeply as the liquid permeated through her. "Have I told you how very grateful I am to you and LaCroix?" Wimbley waved his glass in the air dismissively, "Pa! only every day, twice on Thursdays." His humor fell as he watched her take another sip. She was so overburdened even her movements looked heavy. "Ace, do you believe we have done you any favor that you have not returned to us three fold?" She looked at him in question and he laughed dryly. "Acceptance is such a dull word and so unbelievably powerful. Even in Paris where all forms of debauchery are practiced we still had to hide."

He stood, walked around the table, knelt before her and took her hand, "We have not had to hide here. Ace, do you know what that means?" She shook her head, "I am sorry but I do not." He blew the air from his lungs in a low snort, "It means everything and you have offered that to us." This time she smiled genuinely, "It is my hope that I may offer you something more." He laughed in disbelief, "What more is there?"

"Well there is a matter I have been longing to discuss with you but I have imposed upon you so much already that I fear it may be too great an imposition to ask." Wimbley returned to his seat, took his drink up, swallowed a tot and fixed his eyes squarely upon hers, "Unless it is that we travel to hell and back, which I would seriously consider, there is nothing you could ask which would be considered an imposition." "I do believe Sir that you either put too much stock in my actions or you exist but to tease me," said Miss Benning dryly in answer to Wimbley's witty remark. "A bit of both I am sure but do share your imposition as I am at the edge of my seat with intrigue."

"I have purchased an estate in County Kildare, Ireland. It has been in disuse these past two years. It is my hope that I can bring the estate back into repair and employ it as the main race operation for Sheffield." Wimbley's humor dissipated, "Main race operation, but what of Sheffield?" Miss Benning took great interest in her glass for several long moments, "I have decided Sheffield is better used for breeding. I have also come to know that County Kildare is superb land for the cultivation of livestock." "If that is true move the breeding operation to Ireland," said Wimbley as he took a drink. "The thought crossed my mind but with William and Mrs. Whitehouse I should not think I will be at liberty to attend meets as I ought which is wherein the imposition lies. I need someone I can trust to manage the estate, to recover it to its past glory and oversee the operation of the horses."