The moment Mr. Lundall clicked the horses to a walk, I unfolded the paper. The bearer of this letter is entitled to as many private words with Margaret as needed. P.S. She’s not any better.
I handed the letter to my father with disgust. Daniel had told us less than Louisa.
“It is not bad news, I hope,” Lady Williams said.
My father answered. “My son has an overdeveloped sense of humor. And I am afraid he reported less news than the letter yesterday.”
“Well, you must stay as long as needed.”
He nodded his thanks and faced Gregory. “I am ready to finish our tour, if now is agreeable to you.”
“Of course.” Gregory turned to me. “You are welcome to join us, Miss Brinton.”
I shook my head, avoiding looking at him by focusing instead on the lawn beyond the house. “No, thank you. I think I shall go explore the garden some more.”
“Ah, so you have discovered it,” Lady Williams said. “Is it not the gem of the estate? I would join you, only I am afraid I must be from home to visit some neighbors who shall be very much offended if I do not call on them this morning. But it does not do to leave you alone. Gregory, will you not postpone your outing and attend to Miss Brinton?”
Walk with Gregory? That could not happen. “Oh, please do not change your plans on my account. I will be most content in the garden, I assure you.”
“You will not be too lonely?” Lady Williams asked.
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“I do not mind postponing the tour until tomorrow,” Gregory said.
“But it is supposed to rain,” I pointed out, still avoiding his gaze. “It seems as though we must all go our separate ways today so as to enjoy this last bit of sunshine. For who knows how much longer we will be able to enjoy our stay here before we are called home again? And Father is so much interested in the estate.”
“Are you certain?” Gregory asked in a low voice.
“Yes.” I glanced up and our eyes met.
I was really, truly in love with him.
I tore my gaze away. “I am very certain.”
Sundson emerged from the door. “Your ladyship, your carriage is ready.”
“Oh, thank you. Well, I daresay we shall at least each have stories to share at dinner this evening.”
Not me. I would never share this story.
As I strolled the garden a few minutes later, my mind returned to the conversation of that morning. Gregory did not want to be formal with me. He did not want to be distant.
And I was in love with him.
What if I did let it go? What if I could actually marry for love?
When I retired to my room that evening, I discovered a large vase of flowers from the walled garden had been placed on the desk. Next to them was my favorite book of poetry.
Perhaps Gregory had talents for gift-giving after all.
Thirty-One
I awoke the next morning to the plinking of rain against the windows. Dragging myself out of bed, I trudged to the alcove and pressed my forehead against the cold glass. Heavy drops plopped into the river, the little rippling circles sweeping downstream and out of sight.
I traced a droplet sliding down the window. A day inside. A whole day of Gregory’s company.
I turned from the windows, struggling against the delight rising within me.
Perhaps he was busy. Perhaps he was from home.
But perhaps he wasn’t.
After dressing, I made my way downstairs. A clock sounding through the halls indicated I still had three quarters of an hour before breakfast. I wasn’t ready to face Gregory and the turmoil he created within me. I turned to the music room, rifled through the paper, and chose a few songs that fit the mood of a rainy morning. Near the end of a particularly beautiful song that I was certain Alice would enjoy, someone entered. Grappling against my excitement at Gregory’s presence, I finished the last measure then glanced up and gasped, my hands slamming onto the keys of the piano as I struggled to rise.
“Mr. Northam,” I squeaked. My throat constricted and my stomach twisted into a tight knot. I had forgotten how handsome he was. The images in my mind had not done him justice. Although his clothes were dry, his dark hair was wet, long strands matted onto his chiseled face. It curled over his heavy brows. His dark eyes turned from astonishment to sultry delight.