Page 55 of An Unfamiliar Duke

Mrs. Shoup looked pleased. “That would be grand.”

* * *

Perkins opened the carriage door when it stopped before the Becketts’ home. He took Rosalind’s hand, guiding her around the large puddle as she alighted.

“Thank you, Perkins.”

The driver handed her the basket of rolls and bowed. He had been both helpful and courteous, but he was not Sebastian. She glanced back at the mud-splattered carriage. It had been an unexpectedly lonely ride.

“I should not be long,” she said.

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Perkins stepped aside to open the garden gate. Rosalind lifted her skirts and walked up the muddy path toward the door.

Elsie answered her knock, then stood staring at her with her thumb in her mouth.

“Good day, Elsie,” Rosalind said. “Is your mother about?”

Elsie nodded but did not remove her thumb or change her position.

“Would you be so good as to fetch her?”

Another nod. But before Elsie could act upon Rosalind’s request, Mrs. Beckett arrived at the door.

“I do apologize, Your Grace.” She had one hand pressed against her back. “Edith is outside gathering eggs, and I was lying down. I’m afraid I did not hear the door.”

“If you were resting, it is I who should apologize for coming unannounced,” Rosalind said.

Mrs. Beckett shook her head. “No, no. You are welcome.” She opened the door wider. “Please, come in.”

She waited for Rosalind to enter, then closed the door behind her. With a stiff gait, she led Rosalind into the parlor.

“Are you quite well, Mrs. Beckett?”

“Mary,” she said with a shy smile. “Please call me Mary.”

Rosalind nodded, glad to see the lines of pain removed from the young woman’s forehead, if only for a few moments. “Are you experiencing significant discomfort?”

Mary waited for Rosalind to take a seat before lowering herself slowly into the faded chair across from her. “My back has been complaining over this extra weight I’m carrying,” she said. “That’s all.”

“That would seem to be rather a lot when you are caring for two little girls and a house.”

“We are managing,” Mary said. “Edith is a good helper during the day, and when Mr. Beckett comes home, he does any heavy lifting that needs to be done.”

“Like buckets full of water that has dripped from the roof?” Rosalind guessed.

Mary smiled. “Yes. But Mr. Grayson stopped by earlier to say that the roofer will come tomorrow as long as the weather stays dry.”

“I am very glad to hear it.” She paused, wondering what else she might say. They had all but covered the state of Mary’s health and the roof already. “I believe I saw Mr. Beckett in the pasture by the river this morning.”

“I daresay you did. He went out at first light. Worried about the sheep going through the hedge with the river running so high, he is.”

“I don’t suppose sheep are the most sensible of creatures,” Rosalind said, thinking back on the one that had aimlessly wandered onto the bridge.

“No, Your Grace. They can be terribly silly.”

The back door slammed shut, and light footsteps clattered across the tiled floor. “Three eggs today, Mama,” Edith said, bursting into the parlor, a small basket in hand.