“She is round and rosy, very sweet tempered and pretty,” Evelyn commented. “I hope they make each other very happy.”
“I am doing my best to make that completely possible,” Mayson said. “It has been my observation that while money might not be everything, a steady, reliable sum goes a long way toward making family life much more...” He paused, as if rummaging through a mental attic for the right word.
“Pleasant,” Evelyn put in. “I know what you’re talking about, Mayson. I’ve seen the families where there was not enough income to feed everyone and somebody had to go completely without, or else everyone went a little bit hungry. Money won't buy happiness, but it will buy things that people need to feel better.”
“That is exactly what I wanted to say,” Mayson said. “But what of Mr. Sparks, have you heard from him? I have not seen him or heard word since he left the Dowager House. He was no little upset with me at the time.”
“The butler says that he is adjusting nicely. He spends his time either playing with the baby or sleeping in front of the fire. His daughter is glad to have him there. She’s also glad of the small stipend that the Duchess settled on her for taking care of the old man.”
“I’m glad things are working out for him,” Mayson said. “We had all grown very worried about him, and I was concerned about what he was doing to the food. That last poor roast was so scorched that I had to trim away nearly half of it, and not even the dogs in the kennel would eat the burned parts.”
“That is worrisome. I know that the Duchess has a reliable income, but even so, waste can lead to want.”
“I’ve seen that, too,” Mayson said. “My father, for example, with his desire to make his estate beautiful, frequently placed the household at a disadvantage because he wanted a new bit of marble or he wanted a fountain. In some ways, it is no wonder that my uncle wanted to have an end to his wastrel ways.”
“But that hardly seems like good grounds for the way your uncle treated you.”
Mayson shrugged. “I was in his way and now he is in my way. I’m in a quandary, Evelyn. I like the work I am doing. I feel I have purpose. Yet in order to take up this other obligation, I am going to have to quit. It feels as if I am shirking my duty.”
“Perhaps you need not right away,” Evelyn said. “There is Jemmy to train, and you will need funds to bribe officials and pay fees for necessary paperwork.”
“True enough,” Mayson said, taking the picnic basket and setting it in the middle of the platform beneath the willow. “I have every reason to want to stay here right now.” He looked at her meaningfully. “But will you always want to be a companion to the Duchess?”
“Perhaps not always,” Evelyn said. “But she is kindly, and I do enjoy being with her and giving her company. I’m not quite sure what I want to do. So much of my time and attention was taken up with John, and before that with taking care of my brothers and sisters.”
“Did you go directly from your parents’ home into marriage?” Mayson asked.
“I did. That is not to say I did not know about work. As I had explained to you before, we all had to work. There were too many of us for mother and father working alone to earn enough to feed us. But once the younger ones were old enough to help keep the house, I worked in Father’s shop. That is how I met John.”
She looked out across the wide stream. It was low now, and Mayson had lit the smudges at the corners of the picnic platform. Smoke drifted from them, making the bits of green moss growing at the edges and eddies of the water appear hazy, perhaps even a little unreal. The inevitable midges danced in little patterns over the water. She turned back to Mayson. “I don’t believe I have ever considered what I want. There was always someone who needed me.”
“Then perhaps it is time that you should,” Mayson said. “I would be glad to help you realize your dreams.”
“And I, yours,” Evelyn replied. “I wonder if you should apply to the Duke for his assistance in your situation?”
“Considering that his father seemed to turn an avaricious eye toward Hillsworth, I am not certain that would be a good idea,” Mayson replied. “I know of a magistrate who was an officer when I was in France, and I believe I shall go to him for help.”
“That seems reasonable,” Evelyn said. “It is always good to have friends in high places.”
“I would not say that he was so highly placed,” Mayson replied. “But perhaps advantageously placed. His advice will be valuable.”
Evelyn digested that, once again looking out across the water.
“Are you hungry?” Mayson asked. “We have not even unpacked the picnic basket.”
“So we have not,” Evelyn said. “What surprises have you packed this time?”
“I have been too busy training Jemmy to spend much time on our picnic,” Mayson replied. “But I think I have something that you will enjoy.”
He refused Evelyn’s help as he began to unpack the basket. He had even not allowed Evelyn to assist with supplying it this time, saying that it was his turn.
There was the usual bread and cheese, and broken meats which he had no longer any compunction about using, since it would have been part of their normal meal. But he carefully pulled out a lovely pie from which there arose the aroma of fresh baked pears. He held it before her, as if it were a set of crown jewels.
“Oh, my,” Evelyn said. “I was not so very hungry, but now I am.”
“You must eat your main course first, Mrs. Swinton,” Mayson chided her, teasingly.
“Yes, Mr. Rudge,” she said, in just as light a tone, “I will eat my bread and cheese before I have pie, but I promise you I shall not be filling up on it.”
