Page 65 of No Ordinary Lady

Amy smiled. “You’re so kind to the women of your household.”

“Of course I am. I love them with all my heart,” he said proudly, and included Marian in that sentiment, too. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my family and ensure they are as happy as can be, living here with me. This estate couldn’t function so well without each of us doing our part. I have a lot yet to learn from them still.”

Granny gripped his hand a little tighter at his praise, and he was sure she was smiling up at him proudly. But he kept his eyes on Amy, watching her reaction to his statement. Since his return, Amy had made the odd comment that suggested he’d be better off without the women of his family constantly being underfoot. He resented the recurring pattern of subtle disrespect toward them both, but especially toward Granny who was the original original, and essential to his happiness.

Amy’s smile wavered at his steady glare. “Of course.”

“I’m glad you understand,” he answered, patting Granny’s hand a few more times.

Amy turned to her father, grasped his arm, and turn him toward the door, where a servant stood holding her shawl to keep off the chill of the night on their short journey home.

Daniel walked behind them both to the door. “Oh, before I forget. I didn’t get a chance to share the news from Wraxall.”

“News?”

“Heard there was some trouble there a few days ago.”

Daniel had met Marian at Wraxall. “Oh?”

“A man and a woman were almost apprehended for stealing,” Wilson said.

Daniel’s stride faltered. “Who were they?”

“Some young fellow and his light-skirt.”

“I hadn’t heard,” Daniel glanced at the other man. “Who told you?”

“An old beggar with a boy, limping past my gate. He was looking for his runaway daughter and asked if I knew someone who matched her description.”

Daniel’s stomach clenched. “And did you?”

“Of course not.”

Daniel tried not to let his relief show, but he was elated by the news. “What did the old man look like?”

“Just an ugly beggar and his grubby son,” he said rather dismissively of the pair. “I’ve little time for conversation with the lower classes.”

“I see.” Daniel rubbed his jaw. Could it have been Marian’s uncle looking for her? “And the young boy? I ask because I wonder if they’ll come here next, seeking work?”

“I couldn’t say. They were headed away from here though, and good riddance, I say,” Wilson said. “He put his hand out, but I refuse to pay for gossip.”

“I’m sure you never will, too,” Granny muttered, coming to stand beside Daniel again.

Wilson inclined his head and headed for the carriage and helped his daughter inside. Daniel was relieved beyond measure when the carriage door closed behind the Wilsons, and he was free. Free to speak his mind again. Free to criticize his nearest neighbor. “I’d forgotten what a curmudgeon he was.”

“He’ll never change or understand why charity is so important to those with nothing,” Granny answered and turned back inside without waiting for him.

Wilson had reinforced Daniel’s decision to never propose marriage to Amy with his lack of compassion and generosity.

Mother and Granny were devoted to sustaining the poorest families from their own pocket and provided seasonal work to many local families. They had never turned away a family in need.

Amy and her father always did, and neither one deserved to become part of Daniel’s generous family.

Daniel hurried after Granny, who had returned to the drawing room to sit down again. He poured them both a glass of sherry and then sat beside her and put his feet up.

It was good to be lord of the manor again. To be among good people. Women who were kind and dear to him.

“What was that all about, Danny? The rush to get rid of the Wilsons and using my supposed exhaustion as an excuse?”