The Road through Rushbury by Martha Keyes

Author:Martha Keyes
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-04-27T21:00:00+00:00

Samuel shifted his knees on the small piece of canvas that protected his pantaloons from the dirt of the glebe garden. He straightened himself and looked thoughtfully at the plot he was working on, rolling his shoulders to relieve the aching after being hunched over for half an hour.

He sighed contentedly at the sight of the freshly tilled dirt and the last of the sprouts he had transferred from their place inside the parsonage. It was finally warm enough that they had a decent chance of survival. There was still work to be done—slugs were still to be found in abundance around the garden—but it would do for today.

He raised himself from his knees and brushed off his dirty and worn gloves.

“Mr. Derrick.” His maid Jenny appeared, apron sooty from cleaning the grates after a long winter. “Miss Georgiana Paige is here to see you.”

“Oh,” he said, blinking and looking down at what state he was in. He hesitated a moment. “Please show her into”—he looked up and stopped mid-sentence. Jenny was gone, and Miss Paige stood in her place, hands clasped but fidgeting and an anxious expression on her face. She wore a long, wool coat—one he had never seen her wear before.

“Mr. Derrick,” she said. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

His brows came together, and he walked through the narrow garden paths toward the gate, pulling off his gloves. “You are not disturbing me, Miss Paige. What is it? How can I be of assistance?”

“I have just come from down the lane,” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward the village road. “I was out talking with Mrs. Reed when we noticed a wagon stop in front of the house at the end of the lane.” She looked Samuel in the eye. “Three men were unloading a machine to take inside.”

Samuel frowned more deeply. “What kind of machine?”

“A spinning machine,” she replied. “One of two being transported there, the man said. Purchased by Sir Clyde.”

“What?” Samuel said, aghast. “Surely not. Lady Gilmour assured us—”

“Yes, I know,” said Georgiana, shaking her head in disbelief.

Samuel ran a hand through his hair. “Does John Reed know?”

Georgiana nodded her head, the two small wrinkles in her brow deepening slightly.

Samuel grimaced and set his gloves on the wooden glebe fence. “I must go speak with him. The weight of caring for his growing family weighs on him heavily—I fear what this will do to him.”

Georgiana swallowed, rubbing her lips together. “I shall see what I can discover from Lady Gilmour.”

Samuel reached for her hand, holding it within his gratefully, making her heart flutter and skip. “Thank you for coming to me.”

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