Page 39 of A Lyon’s Lesson

Rick stopped by the fence and greeted them. “Good morning. Have you suffered any other damage from the storm?”

The man pushed his hat back and squinted up at Rick. “No, my lord, just this branch and some water lying in the yard, which should drain off right quick.” He nodded to the end of the row. “The last house is empty, though. Not sure about that one.”

Rick nodded. “Thank you, I’ll check. If anyone needs anything, come up to the house, I’ll be making repairs as needed.”

The man smiled. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll spread the word.”

Rick and Cecey approached the cottage at the end of the row and dismounted. It was a simple building with a door in the center and windows on either side. Like the other yards, pools of water had gathered, but the roof appeared to be sound and the glass in the windows intact. Rick turned the door handle and shoved the door slightly when it appeared to stick. It opened onto a short hallway, off of which lay rooms to either side and ended in a room that ran the full width of the house at the back, which proved to be the kitchen and dining area, with a door to the rear of the house. The rooms at the front were a sitting room on the left and bedroom on the right. The house was furnished, but everything was covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs. However, it was dry and nothing that a good clean wouldn’t fix.

Rick and Cecey resumed their inspection, making their way across the home fields, and the houses of the tenants soon appeared. Rick nodded to the nearest little cottage that belonged to the woman whose bullock plough he had helped clear. “We should check on the tenants, see how they fared with the storm.”

Cecey spurred Demeter forward to catch up with him and they traversed the field Rick had entered before. He noted that the furrows the woman had made—and presumably planted with some sort of seed—were a mulchy mess. Reaching the road that served the cottages in this row, Rick approached the small property and noticed that the fence and gate, which had been rickety before, had been flattened by the storm. The yard was a muddy pool of water, and what appeared to be a chicken coop had collapsed. Chickens wandered about the wet yard pecking disconsolately at the ground. The bullocks stood with shivering withers in what had once been the barn, but which now had no roof or walls at all.

Dismounting, Rick approached the broken fence and stepped over it into the yard and surveyed the cottage itself. Half the roof was gone and the shutters on one of the windows had been torn off completely, leaving a gaping hole in the front wall. The plaster walls were cracked and bits of plaster hung off in chunks showing the skeleton of the wooden beams beneath.

“Good morning!” called Rick.

The woman he had met appeared in the window. Her hair was disheveled and hung in rats’ tails around her face which appeared pale and strained.

“My lord!” she exclaimed, clearly flustered to see him. He approached the window, conscious of Cecey, holding her skirts up and picking her way through the mud, coming up beside him.

“We were checking the damage from the storm. You have clearly suffered some extreme damage here. May we come in? This is my wife, Lady Kenrick—Mrs.? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name when we met before.”

“Rawlins, Helen Rawlins,” said the woman. “The door is jammed shut my lord, one of the beams fell in from the roof and is wedged against it.”

“Ah, in that case it is fortunate we are here. If you’ll permit, I’ll climb in through the window and see if I can move it for you.”

“I’d be most grateful, my lord,” she said, stepping back from the window. Rick approached and swung a leg over the windowsill, folding his long, lean body over to duck through, he stepped into the room and surveyed the damage. The floor was ankle deep in muddy water and the fallen roof beam was indeed wedged against the door. As the other end of it was still attached to the roof, it would need to be moved carefully not to dislodge more of the roof and bring it down on their heads.

The children stood behind their mother, the boy off to her left a little, the girl hanging onto her skirts. Thatching from the roof lay everywhere in wet clumps. Everything was a mess. Both Mrs. Rawlins’s and the children’s clothes were wet, and the little ones were shivering.

“I think it might be best if you and the children went out through the window,” said Rick. “I may bring down more of the roof when I move the beam, and I don’t want you to get hurt, especially the children.”

Mrs. Rawlins nodded, and Cecey leaned in the window holding out her arms. “Here, pass me the little ones.”

Helen handed Cecey the little girl, then the boy, and then climbed through the window herself. With Helen and the two children in the yard safely with Cecey, Rick turned his attention to the beam. His main concern was that dislodging it could bring down the rest of the roof and make it unsafe to remain inside at all. Since the ceiling was only a few inches above his head, he was tall enough to lift and push the beam back into place, but the question was, if he did so, would it hold? Deciding against that method—it seemed too risky, with too many unknowns—he elected instead to simply move the end of the fallen beam sideways away from the entrance.

He did it slowly and while a bit more thatch came down in chunks, nothing structural seemed to shift. Having got the beam out of the way of the door, he examined the roof for anything moving and concluded it would hold for now. He opened the front door and joined the ladies and the children in the yard.

"I think the roof is stable enough for the moment, but you can’t stay here while this is repaired.”

“Thank you, my lord, that is most kind, but I can’t afford—”

“The repairs will be at my expense, Mrs. Rawlins. Please don’t concern yourself about that. I suggest you attempt to salvage what you can of your possessions. There is a vacant cottage on the home farm that you can stay in. It needs a clean, but it is secure and dry with an intact roof and is fully furnished. I will send my groom with the cart to move you and the children there with your goods and chattels. We shall have you in your new accommodation before the end of the day. All right?”

Helen covered her mouth with her hand, visibly overcome, nodding. “Thank you, my lord, my lady. I am most grateful.”

Chapter 22

Rick joined Cecey in bed that night with a sense of satisfaction. They had continued their inspection of the tenants after letting Pagette know to come and rescue Mrs. Rawlins and her children. There were a dozen cottages in need of repairs of various kinds, but the Rawlins’s seemed to be the worst of them. After luncheon he had returned to the tenants’ cottages with Pagette to make a reconnoiter of what needed fixing and had been appalled at what he found. These cottages had clearly suffered from poor upkeep for some time, resulting in the damage from the storm. It was easy to see that the poorest tenants had suffered the most. After compiling an extensive list, he sent Pagette to find a gang of men to work on the cottages starting tomorrow with a promise to provide the materials required and payment for their services.

His mind was still full of lists of supplies and questions about how to source them, but he would tackle that problem tomorrow. Come to think of it, might Baines be able to help? He’d send him a note in the morning asking Baines to meet him at the site.

Cecey, he had learned over dinner, had spent the afternoon seeing Helen Rawlins and her children settled into their temporary home, Mrs. Rawlins being rather overcome by the grandness of their new abode; thus, they were both somewhat tired but rather mutually pleased with themselves over their first act of joint estate stewardship.

Sliding between the sheets, he pulled her close and murmured, “I never knew helping people could feel so good.”

“Neither did I,” she said, settling her head on his chest. He stroked his fingers down her side, and his cock stirred.