Free Marrying Miss Martha by Anna Jacobs Page A

gardens, only about that dratted machinery of his. There used to be some very pretty ferns in the front garden. He’s kept the house well maintained, though, and ’twas he put the new stove in for the last tenant. You won’t find any damp, either.” She looked from one to the other. “Are you going to take the job?”
    “Yes.” They both spoke at once then laughed.
    “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll leave you to look round at your leisure, then, ladies. We’ve a busy morning on at home and I don’t want to be away too long. You may as well keep the front door key.”
    Martha was surprised at her leaving, but Hepzibah had seemed on edge the whole time, not because of them but because of something that had her glancing regularly out of the window and listening—though what for, Martha couldn’t tell.
    Edward had allowed the ladies to inspect the kitchen without him, having little interest in such domestic minutiae. They found him pacing out the front parlour, shaking his head over how small it was, only five yards square. “Once you have your piano in here, it’ll look overcrowded. And the hall is too narrow, not a gentleman’s hallway at all.”
    “We like the house,” Penelope declared. “We’ll have to decide what furniture we’ll keep and what we’ll sell, if we’re to fit in.”
    “But . . . ” he broke off to stare at them. “You’ve decided, haven’t you? And without even consulting me . Well, I haven’t taken to Tapton and I won’t allow you to do this!”
    “Edward, you can’t stop us.” Martha was growing weary of repeating this.
    “But you haven’t even considered the practicalities. Look how cramped you’ll be if you try to run a school in this house. Why, the front parlour is barely adequate for ladies of your station as it is. No, no. It won’t do.” He let out a gusty sigh. “If you won’t make your home with us, I shall be obliged to rent a house for you somewhere more genteel. Buxton, perhaps? I’ll give you an allowance and pay Sally’s wages. Now what do you say?”
    They looked at one another and smiled, not needing to put their thoughts into words.
    “Thank you. It’s very generous of you. But we’d prefer to come here and earn our own way in the world,” Penelope said.
    He looked from one determined face to the other and drew himself up. “I can see I’m wasting my time talking to you. You always were stubborn when you had your mind set on something. I’ll return to the inn and leave you to finish going over this house, but please be ready to leave in two hours. I’ve done my best, but some people simply won’t be helped.”
    He swung on his heel and left without another word.
    They both breathed sighs of relief as the front door slammed behind him.
    Martha couldn’t help asking, “You’re sure, Pen?”
    “Yes, I am. We’d better not waste our time talking, though, if we’re to leave in two hours. Why don’t you pace out the downstairs rooms and I’ll do the upstairs ones? I brought a little notebook, just in case, and we can surely spare an hour before we return to the inn to pack.”
    When someone knocked on the front door a few minutes later, Martha opened it to find Ben Seaton standing there.
    He didn’t waste time on civilities. “Hepzibah said you liked the house.”
    “Yes. It feels to have a happy atmosphere.” He looked round and his expression became sad, so she guessed he was thinking about his mother. When he walked through to the kitchen she followed, trying not to intrude on his memories.
    “I used to come here to eat hot scones,” he said in a softer tone of voice than usual. “My mother and Hepzibah would be working together. They always seemed to be laughing and there was a fire burning brightly, copper pans shining on the shelves and . . . ” He broke off and the guarded expression came back on his face as he went on in a more formal tone, “I’m glad you intend to accept the position because Georgie needs something to