widened a fraction, her brows tensing, and there was no hiding the discomfort in her posture. According to her, Mr. Finch had been in the library. Perhaps he had truly disappeared and was unavailable, but Felicity felt it in her heart—the same one Mr. Dunn had fractured today—that Mr. Finch was avoiding her.
“I will tell Aunt Imogene to expect you tomorrow,” she said, proud that her voice remained steady.
“Perhaps you would like to join me for some refreshment?” asked Mrs. Kingsley, motioning for her to follow. “You look frozen through, and some tea and cake would be just the thing.”
But Felicity shook her head, stepping towards the door. “My thanks, but I ought to be on my way.”
More like she needed to be on her way before her strength gave out and she turned into a weeping mess. It was one thing to have such a vulnerable moment in front of a friend, but Felicity could not handle doing so in front of a mere acquaintance. Besides, if Mr. Finch did not wish her company, she would not force it upon him.
Before allowing Mrs. Kingsley to make any further protests, Felicity hurried out the front door and into her waiting carriage. The door latch snapped shut, breaking the last of her composure. Tears flooded her eyes, and Felicity embraced the agony that flowed through her veins and made her heart burn.
She would conquer this. It was not the first nor last time she would be forced to bear such burdens, and Felicity would face them as she always did. Tears were a necessary part of life, and they would flow for now, but tomorrow, she would square her shoulders, face the pain, and find a way through it.
Even if the heartache was all the more acute because she’d hoped that for once, she’d not have to bear it alone.
Chapter 24
Standing at the threshold of Avebury Park’s stables, Mina breathed in the mix of horse and hay. Not that the stench of horseflesh and muck were pleasant on their own, but so many happy thoughts, feelings, and memories were associated with it. Her marriage had first blossomed here. Those morning rides with her husband had been the flint with which they’d lit the embers that now burned bright in both of them.
Her dear Simon.
Even with the nip in the air warning her that this afternoon would be a bracing ride, Mina was thrilled at the prospect of going out once more. The fields were still icy enough that they did not wish to risk their mounts (or their necks), but the roads had cleared in the past few days.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and Mina knew who it was before Simon threaded her arm through his. They meandered together through the stables, visiting each of the animals in their stalls as the grooms prepared their mounts.
“Are you certain you are not put out by Finch accompanying us?” he asked in a low voice.
Mina glanced at Simon. “I will always prefer to ride with you alone, but I do not begrudge his presence.”
“You would tell me if you felt otherwise?”
“Certainly.” Though Mina had spoken with utter honesty, Simon’s brows remained furrowed, his expression not relaxing until he noticed her watching him.
“I promise this won’t be a regular occurrence,” he said, reaching up with a gloved hand to rub at the bump on his nose. “Finch has been so out of sorts the last few days, and he needs something to lighten his spirits. I fear I’ve abandoned him too many times during his visit.”
Mina clutched his arm, reveling in the faint warmth that leached through the layers of cloth and wool. Even if she despised Mr. Finch, she would welcome his presence for Simon’s sake. Besides, his behavior seemed more amenable and courteous of late, and his flippant remarks had grown fewer, which made him a far more pleasant houseguest.
Yet there was something in his demeanor that made Mina uneasy. As though his ready smiles and wit were hiding something. During one of their visits, Imogene had mentioned Miss Barrows’ theory that Mr. Finch’s demeanor was nothing but a thin facade, hiding some sadness beneath it, and the more time she passed with him, the more she thought Miss Barrows might be correct.
They stopped before one of the occupied stalls, and Banshee stuck her head out to greet them, so Mina released Simon to rub the horse’s nose.
“I think he and Miss Barrows have quarreled,” said Mina. “She came for a visit yesterday,