Her father reached for his cane and attempted to stand but his limbs were still weak. “I will be happy to help get your father settled,” Vicar Trent insisted, and allowed the valet to lead him as they escorted father from the terrace.
She busied herself putting the table back in place and stacking the cups on the tray. What was the vicar thinking now? He promised to help at the hearing but would he change his mind after witnessing the episode. Her father hadn’t had one in months and she just wished she knew what brought them on.
Mrs. Thomas came out with a new tea service and a plate of delicacies. “Is your father recovered, Miss Cooper?”
“For the moment, I suppose.”
She set the tray on the table and leaned forward. Her hand clasped Grace’s. “I’ve known you since you were a child, a friend to your mother, and your father before the accident. I will never breathe a word of this and you still have my promise to help when the time comes.”
Grace had not asked for reassurance, but was glad for it nonetheless. She just hoped the housekeeper’s testimony pulled some weight with the magistrate. “Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. It means more to me than you could know.”
The woman gave Grace’s hand one last squeeze before she picked up the first tea service and disappeared into the house.
“Has your father always had these episodes?” Vicar Trent asked.
Grace looked up. She was not even aware he had returned. “No. Only since the accident.” She was drained of everything, exhausted.
“May I?” He indicated to the empty seat.
Goodness, where were her manners? “Yes… please … I am sorry…”
His smile was kind. “Do not concern yourself.”
She poured him a cup of tea before she offered him the plate of cakes.
“Does he have spells often?”
Grace would love to pretend Vicar Trent did not witness what he obviously did, and try to convince him it was something different, safer, altogether, but knew it was impossible, nor would she lie. “That is the first one he has had in three months.”
“I am glad they are not more frequent, for both you and your father.”
Vicar Trent had yet to take a drink from his cup or bite into the cake he took earlier. The questions gnawed at her and knew she needed to find out now before it drove her insane. “Will you still support my father?” She blurted out.
Vicar Trent straightened and his eyebrows rose as if stunned by the question. “Of course. Why would I not?”
“Because others thought him afflicted in his mind when the spells first occurred.”
“Right after the accident?” He picked up the lemon cake and sampled it.
“Yes. When we still had visitors. After neighbors and friends witnessed a spell, they did not come back. That is when everyone decided my father no longer possessed all of his faculties.”
Vicar Trent shook his head. “It pains me to admit this, but sometimes people can be narrow-minded.”
Grace couldn’t agree more. The village where she had grown up was no exception.
“I am relieved you will not abandon us at this time. Thank you.”
A small smile pulled at his lips. “It is my pleasure.”
As the tension from the incident with her father and the unexpected arrival of Vicar Trent eased from her and Grace began to relax. She poured herself a fresh cup of tea and decided to try and enjoy what was left of the afternoon. Perkins would sit with her father, but she knew he would sleep.
“I do have news.”
She perked up and looked to him.
“Brachton returned this afternoon.”
Grace thought her heart had stopped. She was supposed to have more time than this.
“Your uncle has an appointment to meet with him tomorrow, along with my brother.”
Matthew wished he did not have to deliver such news on the heels of her father’s episode or fit or whatever he just suffered from.
“But, I am not ready. Father will not be ready.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.
He reached over and squeezed her right hand in an offer of comfort. The warmth spread up his arm and his fingers tingled where they rested on her skin. What was he thinking? He should not be touching her in such a familiar manner and he drew back, trying not to jerk his hand away with too much force, but a mere touch had never affected him so strongly. “I plan on accompanying them.”
Her shoulders sagged with what he assumed was relief.
“I will not let them make any decisions without you and without a hearing. And, I certainly will not let them push for an early hearing. I will try and convince them to put it off for a day or two so your father will be recovered.’
“Thank you.” She looked up at him, eyes grateful. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Vicar Trent.”
Heat warmed his cheeks. “It is my pleasure.”
Miss Cooper looked down, silent and sipped from her cup. He wished he knew of some way to offer peace, but suspected she would have none until the hearing was over.
“Why the sudden interest from your uncle? As I understand it, your father’s accident was a few years ago?”
She startled and looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. He didn’t mean to blurt out the question in such a rude manner, but it was something that weighed on his mind.
“I do not know. It isn’t as if he had anything to gain from my father being committed. The house and land is willed to me, as my dowry, for my husband to take over once I am married.” Miss Cooper shrugged. “The letters from Draker, Thorn and Richards must have been the encouragement for him to visit at this time.”
“A guardian would have almost as much control as a husband, if he could prove his actions were a benefit to the estate as a whole,” Matthew prompted.
“I suppose.” Miss Cooper sighed. “Don’t you think I am a bit old to have a guardian?”
“You are in a rather odd predicament.” Matthew picked up his cup and sipped. He did not want Miss Cooper to worry about the outcome of the hearing, but she also needed to think about what would become of her if her father was committed. “You get all of this,” he gestured to the house and land, “if your father were to pass away.”
Miss Grace narrowed her eyes, suddenly alert.
He was simply making an observation, not thinking of adding his name to the list of becoming leg shackled to her. “Which I hope does not happen for a long time,” Matthew was quick to assure her. “Yet, if your uncle wins, this is not yours, but goes to the guardian for your father and you.”
“Leaving me with nothing.” She sighed again. “Not that we have much now. The dairy barely makes enough to put food on the table.”
“It is still a working dairy?” Matthew couldn’t recall any servants or workers.
“Yes,” she chuckled. “Though not much of one.”
“Who does all the work?”
“I do.”
Surely she didn’t run the dairy and take care of the house and her father. It was too much for a gently bred woman such as Miss Cooper. She should have someone taking care of her, easing her life.
“I milk the cows and gather the eggs in the morning. Sometimes I hire a neighbor boy to make the deliveries, and sometimes I do it myself.”
“You must rise with the sun.”
“Earlier, actually.” She chuckled. “We sold half of the cows when I knew father wouldn’t recover and then little by little we had to let our servants go until only Perkins, father’s valet, remained.”
“I thought your father had been a solicitor, not a farmer.”
“He was,” she answered. “The dairy farm brought in extra income and he enjoyed being a gentleman farmer.” A gentle smile formed on her lips. “But we had others who did the work on the farm. I took over when we couldn’t afford to keep our employees any longer. I had to keep it operating because it is now the only income we have.”
Matthew remembered the first service she attended, rushing into the door late and then Mrs. Montgomery chastised her. He hadn’t understood then the importance of the cows and why they had delayed her. Even if he had, it was no reason for him to have been so rude to Miss Cooper. But one glimpse at her face that first day stirred something foreign in him and he still could not come to grips with what it was, other than he was drawn to her like he had never been to anyone else.
Miss Grace pushed her cup away. “I should have married.”
“That certainly would solve everything. In the event your uncle wins, you would be taken care of.”
“Instead, he may be my guardian, despite my age, and have control of me and what is mine.”
“I am afraid so.” Matthew sat back, crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest. He would guess Miss Cooper to be around twenty, but did not want to be so rude as to ask her directly. If she were older, she could make the argument that she could take care of herself and her father, but he knew that no magistrate in his right mind would leave Miss Cooper to fend for herself, let alone be in charge of her father and the land at such a young age even though she had been doing exactly that for two years.
“Why haven’t you married?” It probably was none of his business, but he could not imagine why some gentleman didn’t make her his wife.
A small smile came to her lips. “Only three have shown interest, though none of them actually bothered to ask.”