Captain of Her Heart. Lily George
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Park. I get very busy and may need to beg off at a moment’s notice. There’s more room to work here, too.” It was safer, too. He liked the security of his own four walls, his own familiar territory.
She nodded, but a shadow of uncertainty crossed her face. “All right.”
What had he done? Brookes swallowed nervously. He needed to get away from her, and get back onto sure footing. “I’ll fetch Stoames, and we will explain the plan to him.”
“I would love to.” She dazzled him with the brightness of her smile.
He loved that smile. Remembering her weakness, he added, “Feel free to choose a book or two while I am gone.”
The blood pounded in Harriet’s temples. Pressing her hands together, she forced herself to stop trembling.
Now she might see him often, to keep her vow to Sophie, but the arrangement was strictly business. And she would write a book, and possibly save her little family in the process. Harriet gulped several lungfuls of air. Her composure returned, and her hands ceased shaking. She gazed down at her lap, startled to see she still wore her dirty gardening apron.
She looked a perfect sight. No wonder he seemed so shocked by her proposal. Sophie would never visit anyone looking less than flawless. Even in poverty, Sophie still managed an elegance that Harriet could never attain. But then, she sought his advice on a business matter and did not make a social call. He was Sophie’s intended and not her young man. So who cared what she looked like?
Harriet shut off her thoughts with a snap. She gazed around the library, taking in the floor to ceiling shelves crammed with volumes bound in red and brown Moroccan leather. Brookes’s offer of a new book tempted her, but she was too indebted to him already. She’d stayed awake until the wee small hours of the morning reading the volume of John Donne she borrowed the day before. She wanted to reread the book, savoring Donne’s words again before returning it. Still, it would do no harm to look over the vast selection, and make a mental note of which books to borrow next time. She rose from the settee and studied the shelf in front of her, arms clasped behind her back.
Footsteps echoed in the hall, and the library door swung open. A man strode into the room, followed by Brookes. He looked about a decade older than the captain, his features roughened by long exposure to the weather and hard living. But his brown eyes held a kindly twinkle that put Harriet at ease.
“Miss Handley, allow me to present Matthew Stoames, my batman. I believe you met him once or twice before the war.”
“Mr. Stoames, it’s been so long I hardly remember the occasion. How do you do?” Harriet bobbed a little curtsy.
“Very well, Miss. Though you may call me Stoames. Everyone else does. Don’t know what I would do if someone kept calling me Mister.” He swept a courtly bow in her direction.
“Miss Handley is writing a book about the war and requires our assistance. I told her that you were the best military authority she could hope for.” Brookes leaned against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’ll be happy to help the young lady whenever she wishes.” Stoames nodded at Harriet.
Harriet flashed a grateful smile in return. “I really must be going, but I would like to start work this week. Is that all right?” The sooner the better. After all, if she finished quickly, she might provide Mama with a comfortable living in the space of a year or so.
“Yes, but if we work on Friday, we’ll have to finish quickly. The village is having the Blessing of the Wells.”
Harriet had completely forgotten the village fete. “Will we have time to work, then?”
“Of course. Come over later in the morning, and we will be done in time for the well blessing and afternoon tea.” Brookes cast a glance over his shoulder at the window. “The clouds are gathering again. I am sure it will rain soon. Let me call my carriage for you.”
Another kindness she might never repay. “No, I am happy to walk. The cottage is only a quarter of an hour from here, and I love the exercise. Until Friday, then, gentlemen.” Her voice squeaked a little, betraying her nerves. She quit the library with a speed usually reserved for one being chased by yapping hounds.
She didn’t cease her sprint until she reached the crest of the hill that looked over home.
I did it. It’s over. He said yes!
Chapter Five
Harriet handed her precious few coins to the shopkeeper.
“Thank you, Miss. Can I get anything else for you?”
“Oh, no. This is all I need.” Harriet tucked the parcel under her arm.
“Very good. Don’t forget now, we’re having the Blessing of the Wells later on this morning, to be followed by a cream tea at the village hall. Please come, and bring a friend.”
Harriet smiled warmly in reply. “This will be my first time to attend the event. My family came here shortly after the ceremony last year. I must confess I am intrigued. Such a funny custom, don’t you think?”
“Oh, it’s a tradition in Tansley. We do it to give thanks to God for the many hot springs that run through our village. They bring us our good health.”
Harriet glowed in the warmth of human interaction. The buzz of activity in the little country store mounted as villagers dropped by to do their weekly marketing. She thoroughly enjoyed the chance to talk to someone outside of her tight-knit family circle, but the shopkeeper was busy and had other customers to attend to. “I shall be there. I cannot wait.” She turned to leave, halting when she spied a line of soldiers on horseback creating a commotion in the middle of the street.
“What on earth?” Harriet turned back to the friendly shopkeeper. “Who are those soldiers?”
“A regiment of cavalry officers. From what I hear, they will be summering near Tansley.”
“I see.” Harriet reached for the doorknob. “Good day.”
“Good day, Miss.”
Harriet left the store, inhaling the aroma of fresh paper and ink that wafted up from her paper packet. The paper smelled fresh and crisp, like newly felled trees. The ink had a sour, tangy scent. The two odors excited Harriet, reminding her of late-night sessions spent writing by candlelight, trying to get to the heart and the soul of the stories that ran constantly through her mind. Her fingers practically itched to take up the pen right then and there. Hugging the parcel a little closer to her chest, she quickened her pace. Harriet crossed past Tansley Cottage, trudging up the hill toward Brookes Park. She hastened her steps, afraid she lingered too long and ran late for her appointment with the captain.
The imposing gates of Brookes Hall loomed up ahead. Those gates enforced dignity and majesty onto the scrubby hill. Harriet swallowed her nerves as she hurried past. The meticulous and handsome nature of Brookes Hall struck her nerves, setting them on edge. The house, made of gray stone, grew darker with every passing year, lending the estate an air of weathered distinction. The counterpanes faced the courtyard squarely, needing no shutters, framed with no curtains. This house had nothing to conceal.
The pale sun rose higher in the sky. Harriet was late. Even so, she paused briefly in the courtyard, resting her package on a nearby planter. She clasped her hands together, willing composure and calm into her inner being. Unbidden, her favorite Bible verse flashed across her mind. I can do everything through Him that gives me strength.
Spirits lifted, hopes buoyed, Harriet stiffened her spine and crossed the courtyard to the front door.
Bunting showed Harriet into the library. A fire glowed in the fireplace, warding off the morning chill. “I’ll let the captain know you are here, Miss Handley. Do you require anything to get started?”
“Is it all right if I sit at the desk? I need to spread my paper out so that I can begin writing