Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,64
concern, Mr. Northgate. I came to call on your grandmother. If she was not here, you should have informed me of that when I first arrived. Good day.” She gave him a long look, waiting for him to move. He looked back at her. Pru’s hand tightened on the handle of the umbrella. “Good day, Mr. Northgate,” she repeated.
Finally, he stepped aside. She waited, and he stepped aside again, not enough to make her comfortable, but she thought she could get by. Holding her umbrella tightly and her head high, she walked past him. Her skin crawled, and she feared he would grab her as she passed him, but he didn’t move. Pru grasped the latch on the door, opened it, and stepped outside.
She closed the door behind her and forced herself to open her umbrella and not to run. She wanted to run. The skin on the back of her neck crawled as she felt his eyes on her. She wouldn’t turn back to look, but she just knew he was watching her through the curtains. She didn’t particularly want to go back to the vicarage, but at least she was safe there. And so she hurried back, her hem covered in mud by the time she returned.
She spent the early afternoon helping Mrs. Blimkin with the cooking and the mending, and when Mr. Langford’s dog cart arrived in the late afternoon, she was actually surprised. “Is that for us?” she asked Mrs. Blimkin.
“Who else?” Mrs. Blimkin said, when she came in from giving Langford’s apprentice a small tart for his trouble in bringing the cart.
“I hadn’t thought we would go to Wentmore,” Pru said. “What with the rain and all.”
“Rain?” Mrs. Blimkin gestured to the window. “It hasn’t rained for hours.”
Pru hadn’t even noticed the rain had stopped. A look out the window confirmed that the puddles in the yard had shrunk. Still, a look at the sky did not reassure her. The clouds still hung heavy and low.
“We won’t stay long,” Mrs. Blimkin said, handing Pru one of two baskets laden with the fruits of their afternoon labors. “I just want to deliver this to Mrs. Brown. Mr. Payne returned last night, and she’ll have her hands full feeding two men and that other.”
“Other?” Pru asked, putting the basket in the cart and then taking the second from Mrs. Blimkin and stowing it too. “Do you mean Clopdon?”
“I’d rather you not speak his name to me, Miss Howard. He is a trial, that one.”
Pru looked back at the house. “What about the vicar? It’s almost dinner.”
Mrs. Blimkin nodded. “I’ll leave him a plate if you write him a note. We should be back before too long.” She pointed at Pru. “No walks in the gardens today. You have time for a quick lesson while I tell Mrs. Brown what to do with these provisions. Understood?”
Pru nodded. When she’d seen the weather this morning, she had not thought she would see Nash at all today. She was pleasantly surprised that they would have a brief visit. And this time she was determined to make sure he knew the rest of Monsieur Barbier’s chart. They really should begin to practice writing and reading the code.
The vicar’s dinner set out, Pru and Mrs. Blimkin made their way to Wentmore. The roads were wet and muddy, and it took a bit longer than usual. A few times Pru worried one of the wheels would become mired in the muck, and she wondered if it wouldn’t have been more judicious to walk. But then they would not have been able to manage the heavy baskets of food.
And then finally they spotted the lights of the big house ahead. Pru was surprised at how bright it was, having been there in the late afternoon before and seeing it bathed in foreboding shadows. Now it looked almost welcoming.
Mrs. Blimkin drove to the back of the house, where a groom came out and took the horse. Mrs. Brown met them a moment later, helping to carry the baskets inside.
She greeted Pru quickly, and then she and Mrs. Blimkin were speaking about pies and crusts and fillings. Pru waited to see if she was needed and then wandered to the stairs and started up.
At the top, she went into the dining room, hoping to find Nash, but it was empty. She made her way into the parlor and found Mr. Payne, reading a newspaper. He stood as soon as she entered. “Miss Howard.”