The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2) - Page 11

“Thank you.” As so often happened, my words were stuck in the back of my throat. Walter would have known what to say. Words had dripped from his tongue like warm honey over a biscuit. No one could resist the way he made you feel when you were with him. That had been his secret weapon in the war of love. “You’re lovely…I mean, your home. Is lovely. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be forward.”

She smiled, dazzling me. “Thank you for the compliment. Both of them. How was your trip?”

“Ha

rrowing. I met a friend of yours, though. Mrs. Neal. She and baby Quinn sat across from me.”

“Oh, how serendipitous. Did she entertain you with stories of our little town?”

I swallowed a nervous laugh. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

From behind her, a young man entered the foyer from a room off to the right.

“This is my brother Theo,” she said.

We shook hands. As I looked into his dark eyes, I sensed a kindred spirit. There was a seriousness in his countenance as well as shyness and sensitivity. I wondered how he’d fared in the war. Had it broken a part of him as it had me?

“Pleased to meet you,” Theo said. “Flynn and I are excited to show you around.”

“I’d be grateful,” I said.

A man dressed in a formal black suit appeared. “Dear me, I apologize, Mr. Baker, I didn’t realize you’d arrived.” An English accent. I knew from the letters that Josephine’s father was British and that this was their faithful butler, Jasper.

“Not to worry, Jasper,” Josephine said. “He’s only just gotten here.”

“May I show you to your room?” Jasper asked.

“Yes, and then we’ll have tea,” Josephine said to me. “Lizzie’s made sandwiches and cakes for us.”

I nodded but didn’t trust myself to speak further. Jasper took hold of my suitcase and headed toward a stairwell made of dark wood. I followed him up the stairs and down a hallway to a bedroom with two sets of bunk beds. “You’ll be here with the twins. The bathroom is just through that door.” I spotted a white claw-foot tub and floor made of white tiles. “Will you mind sharing the room?”

“Not at all.”

“Would you like me to put away your things?” He gestured toward my suitcase.

“No, I prefer to take care of it myself. But thank you.” I didn’t want anyone to see my meager belongings.

“As Miss Josephine indicated, the Barnes family has tea every day around four. Whoever is around takes part. This household is loud, Mr. Baker, and can be overwhelming, so please take respite here in your room if need be. No one will hold it against you. I hope you’ll let me know if you need anything at all. If you require a trip into town, I’ll have someone take you there in the sleigh. After the first snowfall, we put the motorcars away and use the horses. Safer that way. You’ve met Harley. His wife’s called Merry and she assists me in the running of the household. My wife’s called Lizzie and she mostly rules the kitchen, along with Mrs. Wu. We all have children now, and they’re in and out of the downstairs, but please let me know if they bother you at all.”

“I grew up in an orphanage. It’ll be like home.”

Jasper’s formal expression twitched into a smile. “I often joke with Lord Barnes that we’re like an orphanage. All told, including the grown Barnes children, we have a dozen young ones here. Although I don’t suppose I can consider the twins or Josephine children any longer. But when you’ve been with a family as long as I, it’s hard to think of them as anything but children.

“May I ask about attire for tea and dinner?”

“You’re expected to dress for dinner but for tea, what you have on will do nicely.” Jasper cleared his throat. “One thing I’d like to say—we’re all grateful for what you chaps did over there. I say that as an Englishman and American. It’s an honor to have you here.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Jasper frowned. “It’s a frightfully long train ride from back east. If you’d like a bath before tea, take all the time you need. The Barnes family are not sticklers for formalities. They tend to meander in and out on their own timetables, so you may do the same without offense.”

“Much obliged.” I’d done nothing but say thank you since I’d arrived. “Also, would you mind giving this to Josephine for me?” I opened up my bag and pulled out the box of her letters to Walter. I’d kept her photograph in the pocket of my suit. I’d have to give that to her later. I wasn’t quite ready to part with the image that had anchored me to hope for so many months.

“Consider it done. Again, welcome to Emerson Pass.” Jasper walked away, the tapping of his heels as precise as his speech.

I went first to look at the bathroom. Electricity and running water? Luxury living. I didn’t belong here. I had no chance with a woman like Josephine. For the hundredth time that day, I questioned my sanity. What had made me think this was a good idea to come here?

Believe in yourself. No one else does. Men like us have to be scrappy to get what we want.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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