What a pleasant surprise. I am so much happier it is raining now that I know you are here.” He stepped farther into the room. “I thought an angel was in here playing and came to investigate. It appears I was correct.”
“I am certain it isn’t anything you have not heard before.”
He moved to my side. “Only once. And on that occasion the music was interrupted.” He stood close, close enough that I could see the drops of water running down his face. Close enough that I caught the lingering scent of expensive cologne.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, somewhat breathlessly.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
My mind scrambled for an explanation. “My father came to tour the estate. I accompanied him.”
“I was under the impression you thought Williams the worst of men.”
“He was.”
“And now he is not?”
“I had no choice in coming here.”
“Then perhaps it is fortuitous that I came to end your misery. Though you did not write.” His voice was quiet, no more than a murmur.
“It was impossible for me to write you.”
He took my hand and slowly raised it to his lips. “There is always a way.”
A week ago this was exactly what I had wanted: him, like this, as we played our little games. I should still want him. A part of me—the rational part, the part that knew what was best—still did.
But the other part was fighting, screaming that there was no love where Mr. Northam was concerned, that my days would be lonely, that my life would be unhappy. I didn’t want to be unhappy.
I just didn’t want to be hurt again.
“Perhaps, Miss Brinton,” he continued, still holding my hand, “you will play away the gloom of this rainy day.”
His eyes were perfect. His tone was perfect. He was who I should choose.
“Northam!”
Gregory’s voice resounded around the room. I wrenched my hand out of Mr. Northam’s grasp and spun to face the door. Gregory’s blue eyes seared me with their chill.
“Ah, Williams. You should have told me you were entertaining such a lovely guest. I would have come sooner.”
Gregory’s expression squashed the warmth of Mr. Northam’s words. “Why have you come now?” he demanded.
Mr. Northam shrugged. “I came to see what you were about. And now I am ever so glad I did. Do tell me, am I in time for breakfast? I’m dreadfully hungry.”
His tone was flippantly light, as though he took no notice of Gregory’s dark expression. Perhaps Mr. Northam was used to it. But I was not. Each second under that glare rendered me more uneasy.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, curtsying to Mr. Northam. His answering look, intimate and promising, made my face flame with embarrassment knowing that Gregory watched. I dropped my gaze and moved toward the door. “Good morning,” I mumbled, offering Gregory a curtsy as well. His look was as disapproving as it had ever been at the Hickmores’. I quickly slipped out of the room.
Pausing just outside the door, my hand on the wall for orientation, I closed my eyes. Mr. Northam was here. What was I going to do?
“What are you up to, Williams? What is she doing here?” Mr. Northam’s curious tone drifted into the hall. Would Mr. Northam say something about our time together at the Hickmores’? Would he reveal how close I’d come to kissing him?
I straightened, my fingers splayed against the wall. What if Gregory mentioned our engagement to Mr. Northam? What would Mr. Northam do?
Gregory’s voice, close and cold, replied, “Northam, I do not want you here.”
Mr. Northam’s laughter, mocking instead of jovial, echoed into the hall. “You never did have a good poker face.”
How had this happened? I was not fool enough to ignore that I had been given another chance to protect my heart. I could still be safe from Gregory. But I no longer wanted to be safe from Gregory. I wanted to be safe with him.
Was that even possible?
I had to get away from their conversation until I could reason this out.
I went to the breakfast parlor. Lady Williams stood in the middle of the room, facing the window, watching the rain fall outside, but she turned at my entrance.
“Good morning, Miss Brinton.”
I curtsied. “Your ladyship. I did not mean to disturb you.” I glanced over my shoulder. No one seemed to be coming yet.
She smiled kindly. “I have not yet seen your father or my son, my dear. But you are welcome to wait for them here, if you would like.”
I could not face those