Page 41 of A Rogue to Cherish

Chapter Fifteen

The gloomy weather outside matched Wren’s spirits that Saturday. She’d woken to find her monthly courses had begun, bringing with them the usual aches and stiffness. She trudged to the kitchen first thing and was able—thanks to Mae’s patient instructions as Wren had assisted her in the kitchen—to boil water for herbal tea that would hopefully help.

Mae found her hunched over the cup of tea, dressed for the day with a shawl over her shoulders. The older woman gave her an understanding look. “Is it this bad every month?

“Yes. It will pass in a few hours. The aches rarely last longer than the first day.”

“You’re in luck. There are hardly any duties to be done today. We washed the linens yesterday, and the beds have been refreshed. The sweeping and mopping have been completed.” Mae added wood to the stove and stoked the fire. Then she placed a cast iron pan on the top and began cutting thick slices of bacon that she placed in the heated pan. It sizzled, and soon its delicious aroma filled the air.

“I will make the dough for biscuits. You can fry eggs in the fat once the bacon is done. I can take care of clearing and clean up. Go get some rest once the food is cooked.”

She’d planned to leave early the next morning before Grant arrived and leave a simple note with the butler for him, saying that she’d gone ahead with a friend. It would suffice. For a moment, she thought about sending a message to him that day, but even though she didn’t know him very well, she knew enough of him to realize he was determined and impulsive and would make sure to arrive early enough to fetch her if she gave him notice of her intentions.

Later in the day, after a short rest, she felt better and went about her assigned duties to ensure nothing would be amiss on the following day when she’d be home. Grant’s mother walked in while Wren was dusting in the parlor.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Wren greeted.

With a book in hand, the elegant woman went to the doorway to peer at the garden and then she turned to study Wren. “Mae informed me you were a bit under the weather this morning. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you.” Wren lifted a vase and moved it then began polishing the table, fully aware the woman continued to study her.

“Wren, there is something I must speak to you about.”

Her stomach sank. It wasn’t unexpected that along with everyone else, Grant’s mother would ask that she put him off.

“Of course.” Wren turned to the woman, hands clenched in front of her stomach. Her aches were back.

Mrs. Murray walked to the settee but didn’t sit. Instead, she placed the book down on the side table before meeting Wren’s gaze. “My son Grant has always gone out of his way to act… how should I say it? Against the norms of society.”

“I understand.” Wren nodded. “Whatever I can do to put him off, I will. I do not wish to cause any problems.”

When the woman pressed her lips together, Wren wondered if perhaps she’d said something wrong. Mrs. Murray continued, “It is just that your actions may not be enough. I know my son. He is stubborn and if he’s decided on a course of action, he is not easily dissuaded. I am sorry, Wren, but you cannot continue to work here.”

Wren reached out to press a hand on the tabletop as her legs threatened to give out. “I see.” She did, but it didn’t make this dismissal any easier.

“It is not your fault that Grant has decided to pursue you. But because you work here, well…it brings opportunities for him to seek you out.”

Wren stood unable to move, or even look at Mrs. Murray. And she couldn’t prevent the string of tears that slid down her cheeks, past her chin, and dripped invisibly to the floor. “Yes, ma’am. I will pack my things and go.”

The woman moved closer. “I am sorry. You are a sweet girl. Mae has a letter of recommendation, and your pay.”

Just as Wren turned away, the woman touched her arm. “Wren, how do you feel about my son?”

Was it important to be honest? Her thoughts were a jumbled mess at the moment; it was impossible to give the woman a clear answer. But she tried to answer as best she could. “Your son is a wonderful, caring man who reserves judgement and seems to see all people, of every class, as equals. He is a very kind person.”

Grant’s mother nodded. “Yes, he is.” Her eyes bored into Wren’s. It was as if there was something else she wanted to say, but in the end she refrained. “You may go.”

Wren raced to her small bedroom and began packing, tears flowing unabated down her face. Several times she stopped to mop them up and blow her nose. Not only had she lost her employment again and was forced to begin anew, but this time it was different. This was a wonderful place to be employed. She felt at home and enjoyed her work and the family she worked for, and the other servants. Her chest ached and she sat on the bed and covered her face with both hands. If only Grant had not declared any intentions in front of his mother.

“Oh lass.” Mae appeared in the doorway and as she saw her crying, moved across the room to hug her. “I am so very sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

Wren wiped at her face with the heels of her hands. “He has caused me to be let go from my positions, twice. I do not know what to think about it, except does he not realize how difficult he is making things for me? Nothing can be between us. We are much too different. Why does he not understand it?”

“The heart does not see differences,” Mae replied sadly, rubbing Wren’s back. “You have only been here a short time, and yet, I will miss you.”

It was because it hurt so much to leave, Wren wanted to make a fast break. She didn’t wait for the next day; by late afternoon, she’d hired a hackney and arrived home even before her aunt. After placing her bag of personal items on the bed, she began sorting it. Some had to be washed, other items hung or put away. It was best to keep busy and not think.

Moments later there was a knock at the front door. Wren’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. If it was Grant, it was best not to open the door.