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“It’s my hope,” he said before going back to his shoveling.

“Miss Quinn, do want to help us gather the eggs?” Cymbeline asked.

I most certainly did not want to help gather eggs. Chickens scared me. What if they didn’t want to give up their eggs? However, I knew it wasn’t a good example for our human chicks to see my fear, so I agreed.

“How do I do it?” I asked as we stood in front of the nest boxes. Each box had a brown egg tangled in straw.

“First, we’ll scatter some feed for them in there.” Cymbeline pointed to a small area closer to the front of the barn. She called for Fiona.

Fiona came running over. “Is it time?”

Josephine reached into a bin from the shelf hanging on the wall and scooped a handful of corn and grain into a small tin bucket. She handed it to Fiona. “Here you are.”

Fiona, bucket swinging in her pudgy hand, walked to the feeding area. The hens gathered around. For a moment I was worried they were going to peck at the small girl, but the moment Fiona tossed the first handful, they focused on their breakfast.

“Now we collect the eggs while they eat,” Cymbeline said as she handed me another bucket. “Once we have them all, we take them to Lizzie. She washes them in her big sink.”

“Lizzie won’t allow anyone else to wash the eggs. She’s afraid we’ll get sick if they’re not washed properly,” Josephine said.

I leaned closer to inspect the egg in the first box. It wasn’t terribly dirty, but I was certain the brown spot on part of the shell was dried chicken manure. Grateful for my new gloves while simultaneously hoping they were washable, I reached in and grabbed the egg, then set my prize gently at the bottom of the pail. I glanced behind me to see if any of the hens were ready to claw my eyes out for stealing their eggs. They were all too busy with their corn to notice me. “Does Harley do all these chores while you’re at school?” How did he do all of this alone?

“No, Merry gets to collect eggs during the week,” Cymbeline said, bitterly. “She’s lucky. Saturdays and Sundays are the best days.”

I gathered a few more eggs, as did the girls. Soon, the nests were empty. Cymbeline and I then took out any soiled straw and replaced it with new. Josephine swept the floor of scraps of straw and other debris. Flynn was over with Buttercream doing the milking while Theo fed Sweetpea. Lord Barnes continued his hard work in the stalls.

All in all, I had to agree with Cymbeline. Saturday was a good day.

Later, I was coming out of the nursery after putting Fiona down for a nap when I ran into Lord Barnes.

“Miss Cooper, how did you enjoy your first day as a farmer?” he asked.

“This has been the best time of my life.” I smiled up at him. “Everything. The school, your children. Even the pigs.”

“Is this only a position to you?” he asked softly as he looked down at me with vulnerability in his eyes. For a man rich and powerful, he appeared no older than Theo.

“I’m fond of the children, thus it doesn’t feel like work.” I stared at the tips of my boots, shy but unable to depart. The hallway, dim and narrow, made it impossible to ignore how his presence made my skin tingle and my pulse race.

He inched closer. I caught the pleasant scent of his shaving soap. He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “Is it only the children you care for, or is there room in your heart for me?"

My stomach turned over. “There’s room for you. A lot of room.”

He grazed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, his eyes pools of sincerity. “I’ll fill every empty spot of your heart if you’ll allow me to.”

“Lord Barnes, you’re bold and terribly inappropriate.” I cocked my head to the side and gave him a sassy, flirtatious smile. This was a dangerous game to play with my employer. Somehow, I didn’t care. I was as reckless and wild as the animals that roamed outside these walls.

“Do you think I’m playing with you?” he asked, smiling down at me.

“I think you’re a lord and I’m a schoolteacher. Is this a game to you?”

“I don’t play games. Titles mean nothing when it comes to the heart. I’m a man who knows what he wants.”

I swallowed. “Good, because I’ve never cared for games.” I turned away, feeling his gaze on my backside as I walked on shaky legs toward my room. Once inside, I plopped on my bed, dizzy from the interaction. A craving as I’d never experienced had taken hold of me. I wanted Lord Alexander Barnes in my bed. What kind of wanton woman was I? But again, I couldn’t seem to muster any shame.

Chapter 18

Alexander

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Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical