Her grey gown with bell-shaped sleeves, only a hint of a bustle, and an old-fashioned black bonnet were much simpler than the ruffled and trimmed gowns most women wore these days. One could easily mistake her attire for mourning. He wondered if the choice was deliberate on her part. Did she mourn for a different life than the one she had?
“Joseph.” She glanced at him, her hazel eyes so like his own wide with surprise. She looked behind him, her brow furrowing with worry. How he hated that look. “You’re alone?”
He wasn’t certain why she bothered to ask. It wasn’t as if he accompanied his father anywhere, let alone shopping. “Yes.”
The taut lines on her narrow face eased, and she drew a relieved breath. “We haven’t seen you for some time. I hope you are well.”
That was because his father had remained home, and she hadn’t left the house. But he didn’t bother mentioning those reasons as they would fall on deaf ears. “I am. Are you?”
She was thinner than he’d like, lending her a fragile air. Yet he knew she was stronger than she looked, much like a reed bending in a strong gale, only to recover once the storm was over.
“I am.” She glanced at the glass case. “I was just admiring the display.”
Joseph followed her gaze to the pieces of lace trim that had caught her interest. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Oh, no. I don’t need anything.” She never did. Yet he didn’t miss the way her focus lingered on one particular trim with a shell-like design.
His father disapproved of such embellishments, along with bold colors, or anything else that drew attention to the female body. Was it any wonder his sister had married young to escape the strict rules that had governed their home? She seemed happy, and he sincerely hoped she was.
“Please don’t tell your father I was here,” she whispered with a quick look around the shop. As if he would. “He doesn’t like me to shop in places like this.”
“Of course not.” He touched her arm to reassure her but as always, she stiffened in response, uncomfortable with displays of affection. Joseph blamed that on his father as well.
“What have you been doing of late?” he asked.
“The usual things, I suppose.” As if realizing he wanted to know more, she added, “I’m working on a new piece of embroidery.”
“Oh?” His heart ached that such an ordinary activity was the extent of her news. She had loved to paint when he was young and was quite skilled at watercolors. His father preferred she spend her time doing something more industrious. “What are you creating?”
She glanced at him from under her lashes, no doubt confused by his word choice. But he wanted her to know that even if she was stitching seat cushions, pillows, or something equally practical, she was still creating. “It’s a garden scene for a pillow. Quite colorful.”
He smiled, appreciating that she found small ways to rebel against his father’s preference for all things monochrome, not to mention his need for control. “I look forward to seeing it.”
“Your father has been busy.”
“Oh?” With something other than quoting Bible verses, he wondered.
“Reverend Henderson has been a regular visitor of late.”
The news didn’t please Joseph.
Reverend Charles Henderson was a devout Christian as well. It was no wonder his father admired the man. However, Henderson had a slick quality about him that Joseph didn’t care for. Already, his father had given him money on numerous occasions. From what Joseph had discovered, it added up to a significant amount.
Yet his father insisted there wasn’t enough money to drill a new well or purchase updated plows for their country estate, not to mention roof and fence repairs.
“I’d hoped the man would find someone else to bother.” Joseph didn’t think his mother cared for the man either, though she never said as much.
That she didn’t disagree with his comment suggested she might think the same. Her silence only made him worry more.
Joseph had grown concerned over the past few years about his father’s lack of interest in what was happening to the tenants and the declining income of the estate.
He’d researched new methods of farming to make the land more efficient as well as new strains of seeds to improve the harvest and had several ideas they could implement to increase income. But his father refused to invest in any of it. With little money of his own, Joseph was hard-pressed to make improvements without his father’s agreement.
However, he’d been working on an investment opportunity that could provide funds for those improvements. First, he needed to find some investors.
“He closets himself in with your father for hours at a time.”
The matter sounded concerning, especially since he didn’t trust Henderson.