“You have been?”
“Venice, Rome, Florence and down along the western coast. It is so beautiful. You cannot imagine.”
“When did you go?”
“On my honeymoon.”
This jolted Maria. “Honeymoon? Are you married?”
“I was, but my wife died in the birth of my daughter,” he said rather quietly.
“I had no idea. Why have you not mentioned you had a child before?” This was such a startling revelation and Maria stopped stirring and struggled to assimilate what she had just heard.
“I guess it never came up.”
“But Roger, how could we have spent this much time together and you have not mentioned you had a daughter? Are there other children?”
“No, just Kitty. She was our first.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Two years ago. And we had only been married for a year before Terrassa died.”
Maria completely forgot the jams for the moment. “Oh, Roger, I am so very sorry. Harry never told me.”
“I do not think he knew. We never talked about much except business when we met at the fairs.”
“I am so very sorry to hear about your tragedy. I…” Maria was still stunned, but she turned back to stirring the pots. “Then are you looking to marry again?” she asked, not sure if she should have asked or not.
Roger did not respond immediately but concentrated on attending to his pots. But he finally said, “Someday.”
That was a very ambiguous answer. Maria did not know how to take that information, but her thinking was interrupted by cook calling out, “Miss Maria, I think the apple and the plum is ready.” Cook turned to the kitchen maids and said, “Bring the clean pots. We are ready to fill them.”
The maids brought the pots to the table near the stove and Maria stood back as they began to fill each pot and seal it.
But Maria was still reeling from this new information with which Roger had just hit her over the head. A child? Was she ready to raise someone else’s child?
Cook came to where Roger was still stirring, and she checked the two pots. “These are ready now too. Miss Maria, we can do the rest if you and Mr. Dillion care to do ought.”
Maria wiped her hands on her apron. “Very well.” She turned to Roger. “Thank you for your help, Roger. I guess you are free to go. Is Harry expecting you this morning?”
“I told him I was to spend the morning with you, so he is not looking for me until lunchtime. Might you care to take another walk with me, or do you have other morning chores?”
Maria hesitated. She always had chores but spending time with Roger was important right now so she said, “I would be happy to walk with you. There is a lovely walk by the stream where Harry fishes. Does that interest you?”
“It does. Let me get my coat and where shall we meet?”
“In the entry hall. I need to get my wrap and I will see you there.”
Roger was waiting for her when she came from her rooms with a shawl around her shoulders. He offered her his arm and they headed toward the stream along a wild hedgerow with small orange and red flowers bursting forth.
“How does Wiltshire compare to your area? Is it much different?”
“Perhaps it is a little wilder here. Where I live is much like the countryside surrounding Winchester. I believe we are a little more populated than you are here. Our hedgerows, for example, are more trained and trimmed than these rambunctious hedges with their bird’s nests, wildflowers, nettles and climbing vines.”
But Maria did not want to just compare their countrysides. “Might I be bold enough to ask you, Roger, why you have come to visit us—besides delivering the cattle.” She looked over at him, knowing she was pushing their boundaries.
“You speak plain. I like that,” he said, not looking at her, but clasping his hands behind his back and walking steadily forward.
