“Your father is fine. We decided to divide the estate into two days, as he wished to spend extra time examining farming strategies.”
“Oh.” This did not bode well for my lake. “He has liked what he’s seen, then?”
“He seemed to, though you would get a better idea of his true thoughts by asking him.”
“I see.” Even now, I felt a pull toward him, a certain delight that he had sought me out. I had been right to disregard him that first evening at the Hickmores’ party. Why was I still so drawn to him? “I will go ask him.”
He held up a hand. “Miss Brinton, I had hoped we could speak for a moment.”
“Do we have something to speak about?”
“I believe so.” He gestured down the path I had already been traversing.
“You must excuse me. I should attend to my father.”
“He requested time to learn more of my farming methods. I left him in the study with a large stack of books. There is no reason to disturb him.” He stepped forward, blocking my escape. “Please.”
Whatever he had to say could not take long. I nodded and we began our stroll.
“I hope the garden meets with your approval.”
“Yes. It is quite magical.” An uncomfortable silence settled between us. He should be the one to speak. It was he who asked for this conversation, after all. Yet when the silence became overbearing, I asked, “Does your estate hold any other secrets? A hidden lake, perhaps?”
“Though the estate boasts a fair-sized wood with excellent hunting and a few hills that provide quite remarkable views, I am afraid I cannot claim a lake as one of my assets.”
“Do you gather a large party for your hunts?”
“We do hold an annual hunt on the grounds, but I prefer an expedition with only a few friends for company.” He stopped and turned to me. “Let me be frank. Are you still determined to unite yourself with my cousin?”
Better Mr. Northam than him. “I do not believe it proper for us to converse about such things.”
“We have always spoken rather boldly with each other, have we not? It suits both our temperaments, and has from the very first. Do not turn reticent now.”
He had taken measure of my character so easily that first night, had known a direct conversation was my preference, had seen through my defenses and spied my weaknesses. I had not been so wise. “Yet one may speak boldly without being open about one’s intents.”
“You do not wish to tell me?”
“I wasn’t speaking of my own character.”
“You think I have not been open?”
I shrugged. “I think you have done exactly as you wanted.”
“And what is that?”
I didn’t hesitate. “To illustrate how wrong I was.”
He frowned. “How have I done that?”
Did he hope I had not recognized what he’d been about? “Did you not assure me that if your cousin wished to make me care for him he would succeed?”
“He would. Because he would stop at nothing to get whatever he desired.”
I gestured to him. “It seems to be a family trait, at least where the male line is concerned.”
“You think I am like him?” he asked incredulously.
“Aside from ensuring that your cousin and I could never be together, as you have confessed, was it not also your intent to prove the folly of my assertion that your cousin could never win my heart and make me love him?”
He stood a moment, confusion in his expression, before it was replaced with disbelief. “You think I set out to make you love me to prove a point?” He paused. “Did I succeed?”
Arrogant, hateful man. “In making your point? Yes.”
His gaze grew more intense. “Then you care for me.”
Was I mistaken in thinking he didn’t care? That look in his eyes. . . . But, no. It was only the look of someone determined to get his way. “Of course not.”
“And my having no effect on you is why you are twisting your fingers like you wish to wring them off?”
I stilled my hands. “Must I confess admiration for you to end your insistent pestering? At least there is no deception where your cousin is concerned, whereas with you . . . I have no one to blame but myself.” I stepped past him and hurried toward the gate.
“Margaret, wait—”
I spun back around. “I never gave you leave to use my name. But that doesn’t matter, does it, because your title allows you to do what you want? You speak of your cousin taking what he wants and how you despise him for it, but how have your actions been any different?”
He stepped toward me. “I did what I did because it was the right thing to do.”
“According to you.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I did not ask for your protection. I do not want it. Surely I am not the first woman to set my sights on Mr. Northam. Yet you cannot have gone ensnaring all those who have come before. Unless. . . .” Had he? Perhaps I was not the first woman he had engaged himself to.
“Of course not. It was nothing like that.”
“Then I can only assume you singled me out because I would not pay heed to your advice.”
He frowned. “I admit I thought you would see reason given time.”
I had been correct. All of this—everything—it had all been to prove himself correct, to feed his conceit, to purposefully mislead and hurt me. “I congratulate you on your superior judgment; you seem to understand my character better than even I do. Your efforts were not in vain; you have proved your point well. If there is nothing else, I will return inside.”
I didn’t wait for his response.
I found my father in the study precisely as Lord Williams had said. “How did you find the estate?” I asked, moving toward him.
“Lord Williams is a most attentive landlord. Not one of his tenants wants for necessities and comfort.”
“I am glad to hear he cares.”
My father frowned. “Is something the matter?”
“Being here, that is all. I’ll be in the music room. There were a few songs there I have not seen before.” And it was the only place other than my bedchamber where Lord Williams did not seem to bother me.
I worked my way through one song a few times, but my mind was only partially concentrating on the notes. How long must I stay here and face the humiliation of my own weaknesses? How long before my mother wrote, requesting our return? Alice had to get better soon. My mother’s letter would give us a better idea of Alice’s expected recovery than Louisa’s, since Louisa most certainly received her updates from Daniel.
I stopped the piece without finishing and began to softly play my mother’s favorite song, hoping like a child that the song would somehow carry to her and persuade her to write. It didn’t seem to be enough, though. My heart still ached for home. So I began to hum and finally to sing.
I sat after, my hands silent on the keys. Though I was no less alone than before, I felt as though she’d heard, as though she were just in the other room listening.
How I wished to be home.
I rose to retrieve a different song when low voices sounded in the hall, almost as though in an argument. The next moment, Lady Williams walked into the room. “That was beautiful, Miss Brinton. You don’t mind if I sit and listen, do you? It has been such a long time since we have enjoyed such superb music in this home.”
I set the piece I’d picked up back down. “Not at all.” It was her house, after all.
“Did you hear that, Gregory? For goodness’ sake, come in and sit down. There’s no point lurking in the hallway.”
Lord Williams walked in, his face a mask of disapproval. “I can’t stay. I was passing, that is all.”
“Nonsense, dear. You’ve been lingering for the past ten minutes. We Williamses never could resist music, coul
d we?”
His frown deepened. “Excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”
“It can wait. Miss Brinton was about to sing us a new song.”
He sat in the chair his mother had indicated without looking at me. Embarrassed by his obvious reluctance to stay, I stepped away from the music. “In all honesty, I had not meant to be heard.”
“But you have such a lovely voice,” Lady Williams said. “What if Gregory joined you in a duet? It has been too long since I’ve heard him.”
I looked at him in surprise. He sang?
A movement outside the window drew my attention, but when I looked, nothing was there. I refocused on Lord Williams. Why couldn’t he be the man he’d pretended to be? Why must he be the distant and cold baron who must always be proved right? “I am not up to the task, I’m afraid. But perhaps his lordship would like to play something instead?”
His eyes met mine. “No one said I played, Miss Brinton.”
With as fine a room as this and an ability to sing, he must have some note-reading ability. “Do you not?” I challenged.
Lady Williams chuckled. “Oh, he plays. Not as well as you, but well enough.”
I gestured to the piano. “Will you do us the honor?”
Something moved just outside the window again. This time I was sure of it. I frowned and walked to the window.
“Is anything the matter?” Lord Williams asked, rising from his seat.
“I thought I saw—” A face flashed in the window. I screamed and jumped back, bumping into Lord Williams with such force that we both stumbled. His arm flew around me, keeping me from falling. But even the safety of his arms could not protect me from the shock of what lay outside.
Mr. Lundall’s grin turned to a frown. He stood from the bushes where he’d been hiding and placed his hands on his hips. He gestured to us and muttered something, then turned and stomped toward the front of the house, disappearing from view.
Lord Williams’s embrace loosened, but he still held me against him. “He seems to have gone. I assure you, you are quite safe. That man shall be apprehended at once.”
I slid out of his arms and mumbled, “He is harmless.”
Lord Williams placed a hand on my arm and turned me to face him. “You know him?”
I nodded. “We are acquainted.”
“My dear,” Lady Williams said, putting an arm around me.
There was some commotion in the hall. Sundson’s angry voice reverberated into the room. Mr. Lundall’s quieter voice responded. Their voices grew louder until they burst into the room, Sundson in the lead, a footman holding Mr. Lundall firmly by the arm. Lord Williams stepped in front of his mother and me as though to protect us.
“Excuse me, my lord, but this gentleman,” Sundson said, “demands an audience with the young lady.”
“Miss Brinton,” Mr. Lundall said, wrenching his arm from the footman’s grasp. He yanked on his red waistcoat and straightened his sleeve, shooting a look of disgust at the footman.
There was nothing to do but introduce them. I cleared my throat and stepped from behind Lord Williams. “Lord Williams, Lady Williams—Mr. Lundall.”
Twenty-Eight
My father stepped into the room. “I heard some commotion and came to see—Mr. Lundall?” My father glanced at me, then back at Mr. Lundall, his eyes narrowing.
Mr. Lundall turned to my father. “Yes, Mr. Brinton. It is I.”
“Why have you come?” my father demanded. But then he seemed to think better of his question. “A word, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Mr. Lundall refocused his attention on me and smiled.
“In private, sir,” my father said with annoyance.
“Of course. A private audience with you is one of the purposes for my visit. But first—” He glided across the room, appearing beside me before I registered his intention. Lord Williams straightened and stepped closer. My hand tensed, ready to plug my nose. But the need to ward off the stench never came. Surprised, I stared at Mr. Lundall. He looked exactly the same as ever. But there was no smell.
“You look radiant this afternoon, Miss Brinton,” Mr. Lundall exclaimed, grabbing my hand and kissing it.
“So you have informed me each time we have met.” I slipped my hand out of his grasp and hid it in the folds of my dress.
He nodded. “It will always be true. You are my sun, shining brightly any time of day.”
“Then I would that it were night,” I muttered.
“Mr. Lundall?” My father commanded.
“I shall return presently.” Mr. Lundall bowed and strode back to my father.
“You always do.” I sighed.
Lord Williams watched Mr. Lundall’s retreat. “Perhaps I should join them.”
My hand shot to his arm. I couldn’t have him in the interview between Mr. Lundall and my father. What would he think? Not that it mattered, of course.
He glanced at my hand and I quickly removed it from his arm. “I apologize,” I stammered, “but I believe there is no need to trouble yourself. My father will show Mr. Lundall out.”
“Miss Brinton, that gentleman was scampering about my grounds. Please excuse me.” He marched out of the room. Sundson followed.
“Well,” Lady Williams said, “this has proved a most exciting afternoon, don’t you think?”
“It has certainly been very unexpected.”
“I believe I shall ask Sundson to set an extra place for dinner,” she continued.
I shook my head in disbelief. “Lady Williams, I have the greatest hope Mr. Lundall will not be present for dinner.”
She smiled subtly. “I have the greatest hope that he will. I would hate to be disappointed.” She, too, left the room.
I stared at the door until a noise in the hallway recalled me to my surroundings. If Lady Williams got her way, this room would be the first place Mr. Lundall came looking for me. I hurried out of the room and up the stairs, shutting my bedroom door securely behind me.
When I walked into the antechamber for dinner, Mr. Lundall rushed forward, offering me his arm. It seemed Lady Williams had gotten her wish.
I hesitated.
“Miss Brinton.” He held his elbow closer to me.
“Mr. Lundall,” I said, “this is hardly necessary.”
“I insist on being allowed to escort you in.”
“But Lady Cox and her daughter have not yet arrived. I am in no need of an escort as of yet.”
Sundson entered. “Lady Cox, Miss Perrin, Mr. Hargreaves, and Mrs. Hargreaves.” Lady Cox swept into the room followed by Miss Perrin, Mrs. Hargreaves, and a thin, balding man with a small nose and no chin.
An unexpected surge of relief ran through me. I had not known Lady Williams had invited Mr. and Mrs. Hargreaves as well. At least I’d have someone sympathetic to speak with.
Introductions were made, Lady Cox provided an excuse for Sir Timothy’s absence, and dinner was announced.
Mr. Lundall practically elbowed me in my ribs. But the uneven numbers and Miss Perrin being of higher status than I provided my excuse, “You should escort Miss Perrin, Mr. Lundall. I shall come behind,” I said.
He frowned.
Lord Williams offered his arm to Lady Cox, but she pushed her daughter into her place. “Oh, please don’t stand on ceremony on my account. Elisa would provide much better company for you.”
Mrs. Hargreaves muttered something to her husband, who nodded.
In the end, I walked in alone. Miss Perrin sat in the seat I usually occupied while I sat across from her, at Lord Williams’s left. Mr. Lundall ignored Miss Perrin’s invitation to sit next to her, instead taking the place on my other side. My only comfort was that Lady Cox seemed displeased by having to sit in a seat lacking honor, wedged between her daughter and my father.
After the first cou
rse was served and conversation filled the room, I tilted my head toward Mr. Lundall. I wanted to ask after his surprising lack of stench, but not even I could be that rude. “Why is it that you are here, sir?”
“It pains me that you should think I have any intent other than to see you.”
“You must have had some other reason to come into the area. Else how would you know where to find me?”
“My dear Miss Brinton, I could find you faster than a hound could find a fox or a hawk his mouse. I merely followed my heart. It will always lead to you.”
His declaration was not the quiet hush of private conversation. Lady Cox must have assumed his volume invited her comment. “What beautiful words, sir. Miss Brinton must be enraptured by your esteem of her. And to have you come all this way just to seek her out. Why, any woman with sense would see what a catch you are.”
I was not about to allow Lady Cox the pleasure of cornering me. “Yes, Mr. Lundall is quite the catch. And such an exquisite dancer. Miss Perrin, do you enjoy dancing? If so, I recommend that you not miss an opportunity to dance with Mr. Lundall, should such an opportunity arise.”
To my surprise, Miss Perrin’s cheeks pinked and she dropped her gaze to study her plate. “I should be honored. Of course.”
Lady Cox frowned. “Lord Williams is also a fine dancer, is he not, Elisa? I believe you said you had never before danced with anyone so skilled.”
Miss Perrin’s face reddened to an unbecoming shade.
“Though I mean no disrespect,” Mr. Lundall replied, fluffing the ruffled cuff of his sleeve, “I assure you that my skill on the dance floor quite surpasses most.”
“While I am sure it does,” replied Lady Cox with a huff, “you must concede that a baron would simply have more opportunity to perfect such a talent than. . . .” She waved her hand through the air as though the comment was not worth the effort of finishing.
“I shall concede no such thing,” Mr. Lundall stated, “and if Miss Perrin will provide me with the opportunity, I promise that she shall soon agree with me.”
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