Keeping his voice low, Robert said, “A woman just came through the door, wiping her hands with a towel. She’s waiting near her son, hand on his shoulder, watching us as solemnly as he is.”
“We’ve probably frightened her. Take me to her, please. Don’t forget one of the baskets.”
She’d put several on the bench where a groom usually sat, a gift for each family, she’d explained: breads, tarts, jams, and meat pies from the kitchen at Rose Cottage. He’d seen Mrs. Sanford’s face when she’d been told what Audrey wanted—her expression had gone from pleasure to such a look of pain, he’dwanted to demand the truth of what was going on. But he’d bowed to Audrey’s wishes and kept his mouth shut.
Now he guided her through the little gate and past the late-blooming flowers, just as the woman stepped forward, putting her son behind her protectively. Robert didn’t tell Audrey that. “She’s straight ahead of us,” he murmured.
“Good morning,” Audrey said cheerfully, facing in the right direction. “Are you Mrs. Telford?”
“Aye, ma’am,” she said, her expression wary and resigned all at the same time. Her hands were reddened from hard work, and her dark hair was caught beneath a plain cap.
“I’m Mrs. Blake, the widow of Martin Blake, and now the owner of Rose Cottage. I wanted to introduce myself, since I’m now in residence for good. I’ve brought you a gift.”
She held the basket out before her. The little boy darted around his mother and came forward, eyes alight with interest, reaching for the basket. But of course, Audrey didn’t see him and didn’t lower it to his level.
Mrs. Telford glanced sharply at Robert, the question in her eyes. He nodded, and a look of pity briefly overcame her wariness.
“I can’t reach it!” the boy cried.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Audrey lowered it to him, smiling when he pulled it from her hands. “What’s your name?”
“Billy.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Billy. Now show this to your mother,” she urged. “You’ll want to share with your whole family.”
“’Tis very kind of you, Mrs. Blake,” the other woman said.
“Your family’s hard work is in those breads, Mrs. Telford, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. And please allow me to introduce the Earl of Knightsbridge, our distant neighbor.”
He bowed but couldn’t miss the way Mrs. Telford’s expression turned to awe, and her shoulders, at first so straight with pride, now stooped forward as she tried to curtsy awkwardly. It reminded him too much of the way his father expected people to treat him—the way Robert had once assumed even his business partners should behave.
She pulled the little boy to her side so quickly, he dropped the basket, and a jar of jam rolled out. Robert went down on one knee to retrieve the jam and put it into the basket. Smiling, he handed it back to her and finally won a tentative, disbelieving smile in return.
“Is your husband at home?” Audrey asked, unaware that anything had happened.
“No, ma’am. He’s buying supplies in Hedgerley.”
“Then please tell him that anytime he has questions, he can always come to me. I know you’ve been dealing with Mr. Drayton, but I’m available, as well.”
Suddenly, the little boy’s voice piped up. “Mummy, the lady doesn’t look at us.”
Mrs. Telford shot a horrified glance at Robert, but it was Audrey who dropped to one knee this time, at the boy’s eye level.
“I can’t look at you because I’m blind, Billy.”
He gaped at her. “You can’t see at all?”
“No, not since I was seven years old.”
“I’m six.”
“You’re very smart for your age,” she answered.
Watching her, Billy stepped sideways, and although she certainly heard him, Audrey didn’t turn her head.
“I’m right here!” Billy called, as if delighted in a new game.
“Billy!” his mother scolded. “That is teasing the nice lady.”
