the real reason. “There’s no point. And it would just cause awkwardness.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I smiled my thanks. My attention slid to Lord Williams. He was watching me with his horrid blue eyes.
I straightened, retrieved my sewing, and didn’t look up again the rest of the evening.
Twelve
The next morning, I opened my door and peeked out. The hall was dark, the house silent except for the occasional sigh that country houses make. Grabbing my half-boots off the floor, I slipped out of my room and crept down the hall, my hand skimming the wall for balance, my other hand pressing the boots against the skirt of my walking dress to keep it from swishing. When the floor squeaked under my step, I yanked up my foot, tense, waiting. Nothing stirred. I slowly let out my breath and inched more carefully toward the stairs.
Five stairs down, I stopped, my hand clasped on the railing. I had forgotten to close my bedroom door.
Only my fear of waking someone kept the groan from escaping my lips. For one fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of going on anyway. But if that odious baron decided to take a self-guided tour of the house, I did not want him seeing into my bedchamber. Clenching my jaw, I slipped back up the stairs to my room.
When I had finally made it to the bottom of the staircase, I sat and laced up my boots. The brightening light crept though the windows, hurrying me. I wanted to catch the morning rays as they began their daily dance on the lake. I ached for a few moments alone, to escape into the silence of nature, into the solitude of non-human things.
A door clicked shut above me and I froze, but only silence echoed in my ears. Then I heard footsteps.
I fumbled through my last knot and raced out the door. As I stepped around the side of the house, light hit my face, stopping me. I breathed in the morning sun, willing it to diminish the shadows of yesterday’s misfortune. The crisp morning air, the sun warming my skin, and the ruckus of birdsong all filled me with resolution. Today I would find a way to be rid of the baron. I would start right after my walk.
I danced down the steps and ran my hand along the fencing when I passed under the arbor. As a girl, I had fantasized that the arbor led to a world of make-believe and magic and, once I was a little older, love. I used to spin through the paths and imagine a rainbow of fairies wreaking havoc in the shrubbery. Then I’d sit on the bench, tilt my head back, and watch the clouds drift away. It had been so easy to believe that anything was possible.
This morning the air recovered a bit of that magic, and I smiled. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes and inhaled, the smell of childhood contained in the scents of the flowers and bushes around me. The lake would be beautiful this morning. I would have to hurry if I was—
“Excuse me, Miss Brinton. May I join you?”
The magic vanished. My eyes flew open and my breath whooshed out of me. I turned slowly, willing him to disappear before I saw him, praying he wasn’t really there.
But he was. The baron’s face was freshly shaved, his hair neatly combed. His clothes were immaculate but simple, after the same fashion as the day before with a dark green coat, lighter green vest, and tall black boots. He must have been up earlier than I, since I had merely dressed and wound my hair in a bun.
He could at least have had the decency to sleep in. “Do you always rise early after a long journey?”
“Generally. I find I accomplish more if I do.”
What did he hope to accomplish this morning?
“May I join you?” he asked again.
He couldn’t possibly join me. I was on my way to the lake, to regain a portion of the magic he’d destroyed. “I prefer to walk alone in the mornings.”
He nodded. “Company is another thing you find disagreeable?”
He would not win this battle. “Not at all, my lord. The company of friends is always agreeable, no matter the hour.”
He stepped next to me. “Will you not put aside your quarrel with me for a moment? While witty banter and veiled insults have their proper place, and you excel quite handsomely at both, I find