The Steward of Blackwood Hall

Chapter three - A friend in need

Once he gave her his name he'd waited for the tell-tale flicker of recognition in her eyes, but there was none. When she explained the reason for her visit he had decided to humour her, waiting for her to betray herself. However, even when he unfurled the map—giving Miss Latimer an opportunity to move around to his side of the desk to view it the right way up—she had not taken the bait. Instead, she studied the topography before reaching over to follow a blue line representing one of the many watercourses that flowed through the grounds and tapped on the vellum.

No young woman of gentle breeding would walk all that way, let alone choose the route through the woods. Yet she seemed sensible enough and held the trust of her father—two rare qualities in a female—and she had explained her requirements in a straightforward manner, without resorting to coquetry or simpering helplessness.

Miss Latimer had been an unusual young woman, to be sure; not a stunning beauty, but pretty enough in her simple, unadorned style. Still, his distrust of the feminine sex held firm, and he felt certain that it was only a matter of time before she revealed her true intentions.

The man he set to the task reported back, describing the mass of trees that had fallen during the storm, diverting the course of the stream away from Sutton's farm. Even then he doubted that Miss Latimer's concern for a tenant's cattle was her principal motivation for visiting his office.

Fielding expected her to call again, ostensibly to thank him for freeing the obstruction and allowing the water to return to its course. In his experience it was the sort of opportunity any female in London's Marriage Mart would grasp without hesitation.

As they left the house early the next morning he smiled as he imagined Miss Latimer arriving at his door, full of effusive praise and feminine appreciation for his kind attention to her request. She would be sadly disappointed to discover that he had gone out shooting with Mountford, and that all her machinations had been in vain.

While they were out his friend maintained his usual level of inane chatter, which required little input on Fielding's part. He talked of guns and other sport, and then focussed upon his new neighbours. "Briggs provided me with some curious intelligence."

One of the beaters disturbed a partridge. Fielding took aim and fired; the bird dropped to earth like a stone. "I do wish you would not encourage your valet to gossip. It sets a bad example, particularly for the new staff."

"Oh, he only gossips to me. I like to be kept informed, and he does an excellent job of ferreting out the latest news and scandals."

"In town, perhaps, but here in the country his talents will be wasted."

"Au contraire, he has been immensely useful already. According to Briggs, who has his information from one of the local tap rooms, Uncle George has dropped me into a bear pit. Or perhaps a bear trap would be a more appropriate term. Do you know how many eligible bachelors of marriageable age currently reside within eight miles of our present location? I will save you the trouble of guessing; the answer is two."

Fielding laughed and shook his head. "You need not count me in your tally. I am no more than a passing visitor."

Mountford ignored him. "I thought spending time in the country would provide respite from that damned maternal man-hunt. Instead I find myself surrounded by desperate families who all have a daughter or two on the look-out for a husband. This will not do. I must return to town."

"Coward! I cannot believe you would run away with your tail between your legs. We have been here less than a week."

"True, but I find it deadly dull on my own with you hiding yourself downstairs, and if I am to be the target of every local mother it will take more than the two of us to distract them. So I hit upon a marvellous notion. We will go back to town tomorrow and persuade some of the others to join us. There's safety in numbers, after all, and maybe Sally will be bored enough to come play hostess."

"Your sister is always bored. She takes after you in that regard."

"She was begging to see Blackwood, so she will not mind in the least."

Fielding doubted that Sally Mountford would appreciate the tired and worn condition of the house once she arrived, but held his silence. More pressing was the problem of leaving the estate and the work he had been doing. "Someone must supervise the repairs to that roof and I am waiting on the responses to the advertisement for the post of steward. I would like to verify their references before you make the final decision."

"You mean before you make the decision?" Receiving no reply, Mountford said, "Well, if you are sure you do not mind being cooped up alone here in the country for a few days, of course you are welcome to stay. But what will you do for a valet while I am gone?"

Fielding had temporarily availed himself of the services of Mountford's gentleman while he had allowed his own man to visit his sick mother in Yorkshire, but Mr. Briggs would be following his master to town. Unfortunately he reposed no confidence in any of Mountford's newly hired staff to take on the task. The footmen in particular were none too bright. Fielding considered sending a note back to his town house, but soon discounted the idea. "Do you think me incapable of dressing myself?"

Mountford regarded him a moment, then laughed. "Very well, if you insist on playing the martyr and staying behind, I have no objections."