Family Secrets

Chapter Five

With a start, I turned to see Mr. Frederick Henderson waving from the field next to the garden. Such a thing would not have been approved of in Bath. Awkwardly, I raised a hand in greeting.

"Are you enjoying the day?" he asked as he approached. A dog of some kind, brown and white, was jumping around him.

"I am, Mr. Henderson," I said, forcing a smile. Should I curtsy? Or did the informality of the country mean such a greeting would be strange? "What brings you out this way?"

"I have been getting reports of poachers at work, so I am on the hunt for traps," he responded, gesturing at the field. "I'm glad to see you."

"Oh?" I asked coyly. How flattering to have a gentleman's attention once again!

"My mother said she has some mourning gowns from when her sister died two years ago," he said. "She thought you might appreciate them since you haven't been able to buy any for yourself. No one wants you to feel embarrassed about the situation."

"Oh." I felt foolish for thinking he might have been glad to see me because he liked me. "I would be happy to accept. Please thank your mother for me. I hadn't thought about the subject until Miss Greaves brought it up yesterday. There has been so much happening."

Was that a reasonable excuse? It was the truth. Since I had realized I was with child, I had been preoccupied with what I was to do. Once Father found out, he had taken swift action. There hadn't been time to think of all the details of how to be a pretend widow.

"I'm afraid not all our neighbors are as understanding as my mother," Mr. Henderson said with a sympathetic smile. "Do you have plans for the garden?"

"I...don't know," I admitted. "My grandmother took pride in the plants she grew, but I am at a loss as to how to restore it. I'm not even sure I know what should stay and what should be pulled out."

"If you are anything like your grandmother, you will soon have a plan." Mr. Henderson took a step back. "I won't take up any of your time. Good day, Mrs. Smith."

"Good day, Mr. Henderson." I watched him walk on his way with his dog. Why did I feel regret that he was leaving? I didn't want to make friends in the country. What was the point if I didn't intend to stay?

~*~

On Tuesday morning, a maid arrived with a box from Mrs. Henderson. A note enclosed bade me to make any alterations necessary to ensure the two black gowns fit. Miss Greaves pursed her lips when she saw them, which was a strange reaction from her. She was the one who had pointed out my lack of mourning clothes.

With the help of Katie, I set about taking in one of the dresses so that it fit properly. Though the length was fine, the bust needed to be brought in an inch. Of course, Miss Greaves complained I was taking our maid away from her duties, but I appreciated the help.

And she had offered. I wasn't about to turn down an offer of help. It wasn't as though there were anything pressing tasks Katie needed to do that couldn't be put off for later.

"There is someone in the garden!" Miss Greaves called out around noon. She had retreated to the kitchen for some tea. "Sir? Sir! Who are you?"

Alarmed, I put aside the dress so that I could see what was happening. From the kitchen, I could see an older man in the garden. He'd removed his cap as he spoke to Miss Greaves.

"Oh, it's Mr. Wesley," Katie said from behind me. "He works at Henderson House."

"—asked me to come and put things right, ma'am," the man was saying. "I'll just be a few hours cleaning out the weeds."