Free Worth Lord of Reckoning by Grace Burrowes Page A

scholar ever to go up to university, then tiptoed up to the topic of the day with all the stealth of William, the amazing draft sow.
    “I suppose I’ll be handing my report to his lordship this month rather than entrusting it to the king’s post. Quite a change, quite a change. But a good change, a happy change, one might say.”
    “ Tempus fugit , Mr. Reilly.” Jacaranda was spared further polite blather by the arrival of the tea tray. She served her guest his usual: no milk, three sugars, and six tea cakes. When Mr. Reilly was enthusiastically ruining his dinner, she started the list for him.
    “The Hendersons’ cottage roof is starting to leak in the front room, and the Porters’ oldest son is making noises about going into London to look for work.”
    “Is he now? The boy will need a character, and he’s a hard worker.”
    “His mother is most anxious to think of him in London, when he’s never set foot from the shire before, but he’s a good man with a horse, and there are horses everywhere.”
    “That he is.” Reilly held his cup out for another serving, for demolishing tea cakes at such a great rate was thirsty work. “Any other little details you’d like me to include?”
    She went on, recounting progress made by the tenants on various projects and needs foreseeable in the upcoming month. Early summer was a lovely time of year, when the crops were ripening, the weather mild, and a thousand pesky repairs and put-off projects could be tended to if one were diligent and organized.
    Reilly’s pencil and paper were out before she’d finished her list, as they usually were. He always thanked her for noting a few trivialities he’d missed and made noises about a woman’s eye being sharper about certain things. Then he showed up a month later, smiling, inhaling cakes and biscuits, and reducing ten flooded acres of barley to a triviality.
    Jacaranda didn’t mind, really. An estate prospered when the senior staff were congenial and cooperative, and she was out and about with the tenants more than Reilly was. Her successor would be apprised of how things went on, and Trysting would continue to prosper.
    Yolanda tapped on the door not two sips after Reilly had left.
    “Come in, Yolanda.” Jacaranda peered into her teapot. “I can offer you a cup, if you’re of a mind.”
    “No tea, thank you.” She advanced into the room, looking about with obvious curiosity. “Your sitting room is lovely.”
    “My retreat, at least it feels that way.” Or had felt that way. “What can I do for you?”
    “I wanted to ask if I could move to a different room.”
    “Of course, but is the bed not to your liking?”
    “The bed is quite acceptable, but I’m five doors down from Avery, and I noticed the room across the hall from hers isn’t occupied.” She wandered around the parlor, inspecting much, touching nothing. She did lean in to sniff the white roses in a crystal vase by the window.
    Her brother sniffed bouquets in the same manner.
    “I can have you moved before tonight.” Jacaranda rose, giving up on her tea. “If your current room is lacking in some regard, I’d rather know about it.”
    “Avery has nightmares,” Yolanda said. “Mrs. Hartwick sleeps down the hall and has poor hearing, or she’s unwilling to answer when Avery taps on her door at night. If Avery knows I’m right across the hall, she might rest easier.”
    “She’s had a trying start in life, what with losing her parents. What shall I tell your brother regarding this change of venue for you?” Jacaranda gave her roses a drink from the pitcher on the mantel, and wondered if Yolanda might enjoy wearing a touch of rose-water scent. Young ladies could be shy about such things.
    She certainly had been.
    Yolanda paused before a piece of framed cutwork near the door. “Do you have to tell Worth anything?”
    “He strikes me as the sort of fellow who will notice.” He’d notice if his sister adopted a fragrance, too, more evidence that