Loving a Lost Lord Read Free Page B

ailments and knew something of herbs.
    They’d met after a church service and immediately struck up a friendship. Granny Rose had taught Mariah a great deal about herbs. Mariah wasn’t a natural healer like Julia, so she was pleased to pass on her great-grandmother’s knowledge to a woman who appreciated it.
    When the snarls were out of her hair, she twisted a neat knot at the back of her head. Sarah approved. The young maid of all work arrived with a tray containing toast and a cup of hot chocolate and helped Mariah dress. Mariah felt like quite a grand lady.
    After finishing her light repast, she pulled on her gloves and cloak, collected her straw bonnet, then headed down the stairs, whistling cheerfully. She stopped before reaching the kitchen. She was quite sure that Sarah wouldn’t know how to whistle.
    â€œGood morning, miss.” The cook, Mrs. Beckett, spoke with a Cumbrian accent so thick that Mariah could barely understand it, but no matter. She was a good plain cook, and she welcomed the new owners because they were living in the house. For years, Mrs. Beckett had been a general housekeeper and sometime cook on the rare occasions when the previous owner had chosen to visit. It was good to have a steady position, she’d confided, but she’d missed having people about.
    â€œDo you need anything from the village shops?” Mariah asked.
    The cook shook her head. “No need, the pantry ’tis full. Have a nice walk, miss.”
    Mariah was fastening her cloak when the maid scuttled into the kitchen, her eyes wide. “Mr. George Burke is calling to see you, miss,” she blurted out.
    Mariah’s cheer fell away. If only her father was here! But she hadn’t even received a letter from him in over a week. “I suppose I must see the man,” she said reluctantly. “Please ask him to wait in the small salon.”
    After the maid left, Mariah said, “At this hour, I don’t suppose I’m required to serve him refreshments. I wonder what he wants?”
    Mrs. Beckett frowned. “I don’t know what Mr. Burke will do, and that’s a fact. I’d heard tell he was staying at the Bull and Anchor. I hoped the rascal would leave Hartley without calling here. You watch yourself with that one, Miss Mariah.”
    A good thing Mariah was dressed to go out. That would give her an excuse to keep the meeting short. “Do I look proper?”
    â€œYou do indeed, miss.”
    Conjuring Sarah’s serene expression, Mariah headed to the small salon. When she arrived, George Burke was contemplating a small, inlaid table. In his early thirties, he was fair-haired and good-looking in a bluff, manly way.
    As she entered the salon, she said, “Mr. Burke? I am Mariah Clarke.”
    â€œThank you for receiving me.” He ran his fingers over the inlaid wood wistfully. “This table belonged to my grandmother.”
    It was a pretty table and Mariah liked it, but she and her father had agreed that Burke should be allowed to remove personal belongings and anything with sentimental attachments. “In that case, you should have it, Mr. Burke.”
    He hadn’t looked at her when she entered, but at her words he glanced up. His expression changed. Mariah recognized that look. It was the interest of a man who found a woman attractive and was wondering how beddable she might be. “You are gracious,” he said. “I’m sorry we meet under such circumstances.”
    Then why hadn’t he stayed away? Coolly she asked, “You have returned to Hartley for a visit?”
    â€œI’m staying at the inn.” He frowned. “This is awkward. I called largely because I wondered if you had heard the news about your father.”
    Alarm shot up her spine. “What news? If you wish to speak with him, you must wait until he returns from London.”
    â€œSo you haven’t heard. I feared that.” Burke glanced away, not