Page 49 of A Provincial Peer

It was not ideal, but Caroline was as anxious for Hester to eat as the young mother herself. “Please begin. I’ve put the kettle on the stove, and once it’s boiled, you can have some tea.”

Hester recovered a spoon from somewhere and sat at the table. She opened the crock and sniffed deeply. “It smells marvelous.”

“Nora made it,” Caroline said. “I can’t attest for how it will be cold, but it’s delicious when heated up.”

Hester took a spoonful right out of the crock. “I daresay I could eat this whole thing.”

“You should.”

“But Jim—”

“He would want you to eat your fill,” Caroline said, silently praying that it was true. “You need it, and so does the baby.”

The chomping on Caroline’s knuckle had eased. She looked down. Robbie’s eyes were closed, his flailing fists now lying quietly against his swaddling. Blond hair like a duckling’s down covered the top of his head. Each of his miniature features was perfect.

“He’s beautiful, Hester,” Caroline said.

Hester lowered her spoon long enough to offer a weary smile. “‘’Andsome,’ is what Jim says.”

“Yes.” Caroline continued swaying back and forth. “He’s one of the most handsome babies I’ve ever seen.”

Chapter 17

Saxon trotted into the farmyard with a clatter of hooves.

“Giles!” Benedict called, spotting the older man standing near the stables, talking to a couple of the stablehands.

Giles swung around. “Lord Benning. I’m right glad yer ’ere.”

“I could say the same.” Benedict reined his horse to a halt beside the small gathering and dismounted. “I’m seeking Mr. Rowe. Have you seen him?”

“No, m’lord. An’ that’s not fer the lack of lookin’.”

Something in Giles’s voice caused Benedict to pause. “Is something amiss?”

“Jim Simkins ’ad an accident in th’ orchard.”

Benedict tensed. “What manner of accident?”

“’E fell from the tree ’e were prunin’. Elias was with ’im an’ ran t’ the yard fer ’elp.”

“How bad is he?”

“Couple o’ broken teeth, swollen mouth, an’ lots o’ blood,” Giles said. “’E’s a nice-sized cut on one arm. I reckon ’e caught it on a branch on th’ way down. An’ ’e weren’t able t’ put weight on one leg.” He shook his head grimly. “By th’ time I reached ’im, ’is ankle ’ad swollen. Time’ll tell if it’s a break.”

Benedict ran his fingers through his hair. He was fully aware that the news could have been worse. The original trees in the orchard were large enough that a bad fall could kill a man. But this report was far from good. “If memory serves, Jim’s wife just gave birth,” he said.

“Aye. Three or four days ago,” Giles said. “It’s a rough go fer their little family, m’lord.”

“Where’s Jim now?”

“We loaded ’im onto the cart. John is takin’ ’im ’ome.”

“And you said you tried locating Mr. Rowe?”

Giles nodded. “John said ’e rode in from Gloucester late last night. But no one’s seen ’im since then.”

Gloucester again. Benedict was developing a wholly irrational dislike for the place. Rowe had been there when the apple saplings had arrived as well. It might be time to review the steward’s supposed need to visit so frequently.