Free A Pitiful Remnant by Judith B. Glad

rightfully belongs at Ackerslea will allow
harm to come to Alanna. But I wanted to be certain she had a strong
protector, which is why I asked Nettles--"
    His snort of derision startled her. "To hire her a protector?
My dear, that would be putting the fox into the chicken pen, if your
sister is anywhere near the beauty you are. But your idea is not
without merit. Just a trifle misguided."
    His brows once again overshadowed his deep-set eyes and
the corners of his mouth were turned down. "Might I trouble you to
ring for Carleton?"
    In the three days since their marriage, she had learned that
her husband was decisive, impatient, and intolerant of sloth. He was
also thoughtful of others, which meant that his servants were
completely devoted to him. None of the house servants had been
paid in nearly half a year, yet only the younger, newer ones had left
Guillemot. Although he had not been at home since a brief visit four
years past, the older servants' memories of him as a youth had kept
them loyal, for they had believed that when he returned, Guillemot
would once again be the prosperous estate it had once been.
    Of all Lisanor had learned about her new home and her new
husband, that last was the most welcome. His dedication to
Guillemot was as great as hers to Ackerslea. His care for his
dependents equaled her grandfather's for his. And his sense of fiscal
responsibility was, if anything, stronger than hers. All but one of her
previous reservations had been cancelled by what she had learned
about him.
    She still did not know what sort of a husband he would be to
her, but she was heartened by his equal reluctance to enter upon the
physical side of their marriage until they had become better
acquainted. Of course, she did wonder if he would have been so
accommodating, had his health been better.
    Carleton had entered quietly while she ruminated. His "At
once, my lord," caught her attention.
    "And Carleton, I'll have a letter to be carried to London early
tomorrow."
    "Yes, my lord. Will there be anything else?"
    To Lisanor's great surprise, her husband's face relaxed into
a boyish grin. "Could you perhaps manage to call me 'major'? 'My
lord' sounds so...so stuffy."
    Carleton's lips might have twitched. "No, my lord." He
turned and walked out.
    As soon as the door was closed, Guillemot laughed. "I never
could win an argument with him." He sobered. "Might I trouble you
for my lap desk, my dear?"
    She took a page from his book. "Only if you will call me
Lisanor. 'My dear' sounds so stuffy."
    "Ah, you're trying to turn me up sweet. Never mind. I'm no
longer angry with you, for I can see what you were about. Tell me. Is
your sister--Aline?--as terrifyingly competent as you?"
    "Alanna. Yes, only more so. She is small, and dainty and
    soft-spoken, not so interested in farming as I am, but there is little about
holding household she dies not know. And she is astonishingly
stubborn."
    "Yet you felt she would be able to manage Ackerslea--which,
I understand, is a substantial farm--alone?"
    "Well, not exactly. Hakon is there, of course, and so are Phil,
Swayne and Elmer. They would protect Alanna with their lives. They
are also quite large and muscular."
    "But servants, are they not?"
    "Not at all. They are tenants, and employees. Phil Dumont
oversees the stables under Tumos Hakon's supervision. Andrew
Swayne manages the dairy herd, and Elmer Snead is responsible for
the rest of the livestock."
    "My compliments. It sounds as if Ackerslea is well organized.
But that still doesn't excuse your leaving a young gentlewoman alone
and unprotected."
    "No, you are right. I suppose I hadn't thought it through. In
my defense, however, Tamsen insisted on staying with Alanna. She
was our nurse and can be quite a dragon when one of her charges is
threatened." Tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, she regarded
him in silence for some seconds. Finally, "Might I ask if you have a
solution to the problem of Uncle Percival and his nephew?"
    "I believe I do,