Instead, Matthew simply decided to wait and returned to Mr. Cooper’s chamber where he poured himself a cup of tea. Surely he would hear her on the stairs when she came down. He took the seat beside the window and sipped on the lukewarm liquid. A moment later he spied Miss Cooper hurrying toward the barn. Behind her a young boy drove a wagon. “Of course.”
“Pardon?”
Matthew glanced to Perkins and shook his head in dismissal. He placed the near empty cup on the table and left before making his way toward the barn. He arrived just in time to help Miss Cooper place the last of the pails into the wagon. She disappeared into the barn again and returned a moment later wearing long work gloves and carrying two large baskets.
Matthew glanced down at them and then back to her.
“Eggs,” she answered and marched off toward the coops.
The young boy stood watching; holding the horses and Matthew followed Miss Cooper. Squawking could be heard from within as he approached and entered the small structure. Feathers flew, wings fluttered and Miss Cooper spoke low.
“I need these and you can lay more tomorrow.”
Hens pecked at her but the gloves protected her tender skin. Miss Cooper moved from one chicken to the next, reaching underneath and taking eggs and putting them in the basket. She had not even gathered half of them but it certainly looked easier that milking a cow. Starting at the opposite end, Matthew began gathering eggs to help her. The first nest was empty and he took two eggs before taking one of the baskets from Grace and putting them inside. The next nest proved to be more difficult. The chicken was not about to give up her eggs without a fight. Matthew jerked his arm back as the sharp edge of her beak tore into the skin on his forearm. He hastily rolled down his sleeves wishing he also had his jacket. Sometime in the middle of the night he had removed it, leaving it in Mr. Cooper’s bedroom. It never occurred to him to even put it on this morning. His cravat and waistcoat were long gone as well. He probably looked as disheveled as Miss Cooper.
He attempted to gather eggs from three more hens and was rewarded with more bites and tears in his once white shirt that was quickly becoming stained with his blood. At the risk of losing a finger, he gathered from the nests currently vacated by their owners and Miss Cooper efficiently collected eggs from beneath protective chickens. He stood at the door watching those vicious animals while holding a full basket as she filled another. They looked innocent enough but after today, Matthew would take joy each time he ate a hen or chicken for dinner. He wasn’t even sure if they were hens or chickens. There was a difference but he wasn’t really sure what it was and at the moment, he didn’t care. He wanted to leave the smelly coup and dream about the next drumstick or thigh he dined on.
Miss Cooper paused before him, her basket full of eggs, as was his, and together they exited into the fresh sunlight morning where they placed the baskets in the back of the wagon.
“I’ll see that everything is delivered and return the pails and baskets to you,” the young man assured Miss. Cooper.
“Thank you, Clive.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Will you be able to help tomorrow as well? I am not sure how long my father will be in recovering from his fall.”
“Of course, Miss Cooper.” He nodded, a crimson stain coming to his cheeks before he hopped up into the seat of the wagon and drove off. The boy was smitten, and who could blame him.
Miss Cooper turned and walked into the barn once again and removed her gloves. “We will have to take care of your arms.” She gestured to his many bite marks. “I should have warned you.”
“I will be sure to be better protected next time. On that you have my promise.”
Miss Cooper bit her lip as if trying not to laugh. Matthew didn’t care if she laughed at him or not. It was good to see her smile again. He knew there would be very few of them in the days to come. But she was correct in one matter, he needed to wash his arms, and find a clean shirt to put on. Though he hated to leave her for but a few moments with her father’s condition unclear, he couldn’t remain dressed as he was. But he wasn’t going to leave until he had checked on Mr. Cooper one last time and Matthew followed Miss Grace from the barn and toward the house. They had just rounded the stable and were in the drive when a voice stopped them.
“I cannot believe what I am seeing.”
Matthew and Miss Cooper turned toward the older female voice. It was Mrs. Montgomery. She was walking along the drive, coming from the front of the house.
“I cannot tell you how disappointed I am at such a sight.”
What was she talking about?
“To think our vicar and you, Miss Cooper.”
Miss Cooper took a step forward. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The woman drew up and thrust her chin in the air. “I am not blind. Look at the two of you, coming from the barn of all places, looking like that.”
Miss Cooper glanced down at herself and then over at Matt, her face taking on a pink hue. They had literally risen from their sleep earlier and had done nothing to repair their appearance. Matthew took a step forward. “It is not what you think and your assumptions are wrong.”
“Are they?” She demanded with a sniff.
“Yes,” Matthew bit out. “I was simply helping Miss Cooper milk the cows and gather the eggs this morning. She had a long difficult night following her father’s fall.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You were here all night?”
As much as Matthew would love to lie to the woman he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was a vicar and vicars did not lie, even to protect the reputation of a young woman. “Yes. I was here to offer support while we waited to see if Mr. Cooper would survive the night.”
“Nobody else was here?” A calculating gleam came to the woman’s eyes that did not bode well for Miss Cooper.
“Perkins, my father’s valet did not leave his side,” Miss Cooper answered.
“No females to act as guardian?” Mrs. Montgomery asked in a low, menacing voice.
“No,” Miss Cooper answered. “Nor were any necessary.”
“I beg to differ.”
“We were taking care of my father.”
Matthew straightened and looked at Miss Cooper. Did she raise her voice to Mrs. Montgomery?
“Your father is, or was unconscious, Grace, so he hardly qualifies as a proper chaperone.”
Miss Cooper straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. The situation was quickly swirling out of control and Matthew knew he needed to say something quickly to defuse the situation. “I can assure you, Mrs. Montgomery that I was here purely in a supportive capacity as her vicar and minister.”
The haughty woman raised an eyebrow and looked him over from the top of his head to the filth on his boots and back up until her eyes met his. “Clearly.”
“I don’t wish to be rude,” Miss Cooper interrupted. “But why are you here, Mrs. Montgomery. I would like to return to my father if you don’t mind.”
“I had heard someone tried to kill your father and came to offer my support.” She stiffened again. “I can see I am not needed.” With that she pivoted on her heel and marched back toward her carriage, nose in the air.
“Oh dear, she is the town’s worst gossip.”
“Don’t worry,” Matthew was quick to assure Miss Cooper. “I doubt anyone will pay attention to her words or anything she has to say for that matter.” And, he truly prayed that was the case.
Grace paused inside the entrance to the house and glanced into the mirror. Goodness, she was a fright. Why hadn’t she bothered to look into a mirror before now? One would think she just rolled out of bed. Even her dress was wrinkled beyond repair. No wonder Mrs. Montgomery was so rude.
She turned away from the mirror. It didn’t matter. Grace’s appearance could have been pristine and that woman would still have found cause to complain. Mrs. Montgomery had never liked her and never would, though Grace could not for the life of her understand. She had never caused the woman harm before, or said an ill word against her. And Audrey, her best friend, was the woman’s daughter. Grace couldn’t credit it and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to worry and understand. She didn’t have the energy to do so right now anyway. Instead, she would check on her father and if he were still sleeping, she would retire to her room and put herself to rights before anyone bothered to visit again.
Vicar Trent closed the door as Grace began to walk down the hall. “I wouldn’t let her upset you.”
Grace stopped and turned to look at him. “I won’t. Besides, you are a vicar. How could anyone think poorly of you? Me perhaps, but never you.” Though she had to admit, he looked as bedraggled as she did. If she had come upon two individuals leaving the barn looking such as they did, she may have very well jumped to a similar conclusion, as ridiculous as it seemed. The idea of Vicar Trent wishing to do whatever people did in privacy with her was absurd.
His shirt was torn from the hens and the once white linen was blood streaked. “Oh dear, your arms. Come with me to the kitchen.”
He held up his hands. “There is no need. I am sure I will heal in no time.” He nodded toward the back of the house. “Go check on your father.”