“I don’t know John Burnham well,” he said to Iris, “but I don’t think he drinks. At least not more than any man does.”
Iris didn’t say anything, so he continued. “He will be a good man, better than his father was.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Richard thought for a moment. He’d never really taken the time to think about John Burnham, other than the fact that he was now the head of Maycliffe’s largest tenant farm. He liked what he knew of him, but their paths did not often cross, nor would anyone expect them to.
“He is a serious fellow,” Richard finally replied. “He’s done well for himself. Finished school, even, thanks to my father.”
“Your father?” Iris echoed, with some surprise.
“He paid the fees. He took a liking to him. Said he was very intelligent. My father always valued that.”
“It is a good thing to value.”
“Indeed.” It was, after all, one of the many reasons he valued her. But this was not the time to say so, so he added, “John probably could have gone off and read law or something of the sort if he hadn’t returned to Mill Farm.”
“From a farmer to a barrister?” Iris asked. “Really?”
Richard gave a shrug. “No reason why it can’t be done. Assuming one wanted to.”
Iris was silent for a moment, then asked, “Is Mr. Burnham married?”
He gave her a quizzical look before returning his attention to the road. “Why such interest?”
“I need to know these things,” she reminded him. She shifted a little in her seat. “And I was curious. I’m always curious about people. Perhaps he had to return home to support his family. Perhaps that is why he was not able to study law.”
“I don’t know if he did want to study law. I merely said he was intelligent enough to do so. And no, he’s not married. But he does have a family to support. He would not turn his back on his mother and siblings.”
Iris laid her hand on his arm. “He is much like you, then.”
Richard swallowed uncomfortably.
“You take such good care of your sisters,” she continued.
“You have yet even to meet them,” he reminded her.
She gave a little shrug. “I can tell that you are a devoted brother. And guardian.”
Richard briefly settled the reins in one hand, relieved that he could point ahead and change the subject. “It’s just around the corner.”
“Mill Farm?”
He looked over at her. There had been something in her voice. “Are you nervous?”
“A bit, yes,” she admitted.
“Don’t be. You are the mistress of Maycliffe.”
She let out a little snort. “That is precisely why I feel nervous.”
Richard started to say something, then just shook his head. Didn’t she realize that the Burnhams were the ones who would be nervous to meet her?
“Oh!” Iris exclaimed. “It’s much bigger than I expected.”
“I did say it’s the largest holding at Maycliffe,” Richard murmured, bringing the wagon to a halt. The Burnhams had been farming the land there for several generations and over time had built quite a nice house, with four bedrooms, a sitting room, and an office. They’d once employed a maid, but she’d been let go when the family had fallen on hard times before the elder Mr. Burnham’s death.
“I’ve never gone visiting with my cousins,” Iris said self-consciously.
Richard hopped down and then offered her his hand. “Why do you sound so unsure all of a sudden?”
“I suppose I’m realizing how little I know.” She motioned to the house. “I had assumed all tenant farmers lived in little cottages.”
“Most do. But some are quite prosperous. One does not need to own the land to do well.”
“But one does need to own the land to be considered a gentleman. Or at least have been born into a landowning family.”
“True,” he acceded. Even a yeoman farmer would not be considered gentry. One needed larger holdings for that.
“Sir Richard!” came a shout.
Richard grinned as he saw a young boy running toward him. “Tommy!” he called out. He tousled the boy’s hair when he bounced into place in front of him. “What has your mother been feeding you? I believe you’ve grown a foot since our last meeting.”
Tommy Burnham beamed. “John’s got me working in the fields. Mum says it’s the sunshine. I must be a weed.”
Richard laughed, then introduced Iris, who earned Tommy’s everlasting devotion by treating him like an adult and offering her hand for a shake.
“Is John in the house?” Richard asked, reaching into the wagon for the correct box.
“With Mum,” Tommy replied, with a jerk of his head toward the house. “We’re taking a break to eat.”
“Is this the one?” Richard murmured to Iris. At her nod, he lifted the box out and motioned for her to begin walking toward the house. “You’ve other men working with you in the fields, though, don’t you?” he asked Tommy.
“Oh, yes.” Tommy looked at him as if he were daft to even consider that they might not. “We couldn’t do it ourselves. Don’t even need me, really, but John says I’ve got to do my part.”
“Your brother is a wise man,” Richard said.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “So he says.”
Iris let out a little laugh.
“Watch out for her,” Richard said with a tick of his head toward Iris. “Like you, she’s got far too many siblings, and she’s learned to be quick.”