"Where do your lands end?"
"At the river. The house lies in the northern part of the estate."
"So those" — Amelia pointed to a cluster of slate roofs visible through trees—"are yours?"
Luc nodded; he wheeled his dappled hunter in that direction. "We're doing repairs to one of the cottages. I should look in on the work."
Amelia set her bay mare to follow him along the ridge, then down the gentle slope to the cottages.
They were sturdy dwellings built of the local pink-brown stone. The central cottage of the three was being reroofed — it was presently roofless. Men were perched on the wooden skeleton, adding new struts; the sound of hammering filled the air.
The foreman saw them, waved, and started to climb down. Luc dismounted, tied his reins to a branch, then lifted Amelia to the ground.
"A huge branch went through the roof during the gales last winter. The house has been uninhabitable since." With a nod, he directed her attention to one of the other cottages from which a tribe of small children spilled to stand gawking at them. "The three families have lived squeezed into the two cottages for nearly six months."
Luc turned as the foreman came up; he introduced Amelia. The foreman nodded, tugging his cap, then gave his attention to Luc.
Who'd been scanning the work through narrowed eyes. "You're further on than I expected."
"Aye." The foreman joined him in surveying the work.
Amelia decided to leave them to it. She started toward the children; no sense wasting an opportunity to get to know the estate families.
"Mind you, if we hadn't been able to get that order in afore June, we'd have been nobbled. The timber merchant had just enough to see us through, but with all the repairs 'round about starting as soon as the weather turned, he was cleaned out in a week."
"But you've made good progress nonetheless. How long before the slates go back on?"
Amelia let the voices fade behind her; reaching the nearest of the children, she smiled and bent down. "Hello. I live up at the big house — the Chase. Is your mother in?"
The younger children stared, curious, bright-eyed. One of their elders, hanging back by the door, turned, and shouted, "Ma! Her new ladyship's here!"
The information caused a minor panic. By the time Amelia had reassured the three young mothers that she wasn't expecting to be specially entertained, and had accepted a glass of lemonade and spoken to two old crones huddled by the hearth, a half hour had passed. Surprised Luc hadn't summoned her, she went back out to the stoop and looked around. The horses were under the tree, placidly grazing, but there was no sign of Luc. Then she heard his voice and looked up.
Her lord and master had dispensed with his hacking jacket; with his shirtsleeves rolled up, his kerchief loose about his neck, he was balancing on a crossbeam of the new roof. Hands on hips, he bounced, checking the beam, clearly caught in some discussion about the structure. Outlined against the blue sky, his black hair ruffling in the breeze, he looked sinfully beautiful.
Someone tugged timidly at her sle
eve. Amelia looked down and discovered a moppet with curly brown hair and big brown eyes gazing up at her. The girl must have been about six, maybe seven.
The girl cleared her throat, cast a glance at her fellows; she appeared to be the ringleader. Drawing a deep breath, she looked up at Amelia. "We wondered… are all your dresses as pretty as this one?"
Amelia glanced down at her summer riding habit; it was, she supposed, pretty enough but hardly in the league of her ball gowns. She debated her answer, remembered how precious dreams were. "Oh, I have prettier dresses than this."
"You do?"
"Yes. And you'll be able to see some when you come to the big house for the party later in the year."
"Party?" One of the boys edged closer. "The Autumn Gathering?"
Amelia nodded. "I'll be running it this year." She glanced down at the moppet. "And we'll be having lots more games than before."
"You will?"
The other children crowded around.
"Will there be bobbing?"
"And archery?"