I flipped through it, shrugging my shoulders. I would not be made to blush again. There was only one course—humor. The edge of my lips tugged. “How strange. I would never choose such a book myself.”
Elliot turned to Mr. Windham. “Well, Simon? What excuse can you offer for such a choice?”
Mr. Windham scratched at his chin, chewing on the edge of his bottom lip. His eyes did not wander from my own, though he spoke to Elliot. “No excuse, but a strange story that I will gladly recount. A young lady mistook me for a bookshop clerk.” He paused, dipping his chin for effect.
“A clerk?” I widened my eyes, glancing over his outfit. His clothing had not been greatly improved upon. “Perhaps you should visit a tailor in London, Mr. Windham. They sell more than olive or black waistcoats.”
Elliot shook with laughter. “As the lady says, Simon. Buy something more fitting for a gentleman.”
“There was a mistake in a measurement, but my clothing will arrive shortly.” Mr. Windham quirked an eyebrow at me. “In any case, after the young lady tossed a book at me and slit my finger, she employed me to procure this strange book for her. I admit, my curiosity was piqued. I had to know what book held the attention of such a strange creature.”
“You always seem to meet the oddest of people,” Elliot said. “Perhaps you should bring a companion whenever you take an outing.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Windham replied, staring at me as if awaiting my response. “I apologize for reciting such a ridiculous tale at our first meeting, Miss Kinsley.”
I placed the book back on the table and ran my hands down the front of my dress, determined to counter each of his efforts to rattle me. “I shall not hold it against you, Mr. Windham. I am sure the young lady has already forgotten the encounter.”
His lips twitched, and he pulled out a light blue ribbon from his coat pocket. “I doubt that. In an outrageous turn of events, the young lady stole a ribbon from her hair to bind my wound. Can you imagine, Miss Kinsley? Have you ever been so bold as to touch a stranger, let alone wrap your ribbon around his finger?”
Mr. Windham’s gaze held my own—amusement lighting his eyes.
I nearly choked on my own saliva. He had carried my ribbon in his pocket? I forced a laugh, which quickly transformed into a genuine one. How had I acted so silly? “For a young lady of compassion, I doubt she thought anything of the exchange. Perhaps she—like me—is the daughter of a physician and cared only for your welfare.”
“But you did not answer the question. Would you ever act like that upon a first—and unofficial—meeting?”
I massaged my brows. “I do believe your friend wishes to tease me, Elliot.”
Elliot took my hand, wrapping it around his arm. “Forgive him—he can’t help himself, especially around young ladies. Let me escort you to tea.”
“Thank you, Elliot.” I shot my most victorious expression in Mr. Windham’s direction.
Mr. Windham only grinned.
Chapter 10
Simon
Providence had seen fit to either laugh upon me or to shine upon me—that was still to be determined. The clumsy girl from the bookshop was here, just outside the study walls. Never had I met a more alluring set of dark eyes, nor a more bashful assailant. I tucked a hand into my pocket and felt the ribbon.
I laughed and raked my other hand through my hair.
Once Miss Kinsley and Elliot had left the study, I relaxed into the seat by the window and released a sigh. There was a chance that my interest stemmed from the simple fact that I’d been traveling for so long, doing everything in my power to prevent an attachment. Miss Kinsley was the exact sort Mother had accused Mrs. Somerville of being too kind toward—inviting a poor country girl to a party with members of society.
“I can see your meeting with Isabelle left an impression.” Elliot’s voice jarred my reverie.
I startled upright in the chair. Elliot stood ten feet away, eying me. As much as I sometimes felt that we’d reached an understanding in regards to Elliot’s sister, his narrowed eyes said we possibly had more ground to cover in that regard.
I straightened and attempted to drop my shoulders in a relaxed posture. The attempt was futile, but still, I tried. I flicked the cuff of my sleeve and grinned. Teasing Elliot was a sure way to change the subject. “Oh, yes. Miss Kinsley seems like quite the entertaining young lady, but not nearly as entertaining as your betrothed.”
Elliot scowled, sighed, and then his shoulders grew a more rigid stance.
“Are you well?” I asked.
“Months have gone by,” he said quietly as he scratched at his ear. “There is a chance that she…that she has decided…or changed…”
Mary, three years his senior, had always been a favorite of Elliot’s. His cousin was quiet and serious, both of which seemed an unusual pairing for my ever-energetic friend. Yet, I had recognized his admiration, even when he consciously had not. “Do you believe that she has fallen out of love with you?” I laughed. “Are you serious?”
Elliot’s shoulders dropped, and he sighed. “I won’t acknowledge your teasing.”
“I am sorry,” I told him, though, I was only half sorry. “You have both endured a long separation, and if your ghastly handwriting hasn’t scared her away after your first letter, I believe she shall love you for life.”
“Simon.” Elliot stared at me seriously. “There are moments when I wonder if you are the worst human in England.”
I laughed in response, and Elliot shook his head, his smile returning.
“Now, shall you get settled so that we might appease my mother for tea? Mother stole Isabelle from my arm the moment we stepped into the room, directing me to fetch you next.”
“Then, fetch me you shall.” I offered him my arm in jest, but Elliot just shook his head.
“Honestly, Simon. Possibly the worst tease in all of England.”
“Noted,” I responded.
“As I was saying, Mother is overwhelmed with anticipation. Why, just the other day…”
His words continued, but I lost track of all meaning and contemplated Miss Kinsley. She had acted her part as the unaffected lady quite well—she was cleverer than I first supposed. Her rebuttals to my attempts to unravel her were quite impressive. She had, instead, nearly unraveled me. The twist of the corner of her mouth, which followed her wide-eyed surprise far more than I could have done. However, a physician’s daughter? I shook my head. That was the exact type my mother warned me against. I certainly never wished to disappoint my mother. I endeavored to please her when possible. It simply wasn’t always possible.
My head still shook back and forth; I doubted I could ever appease my mother in my choice of marriage. Perhaps a member of the royal family, if her pianoforte skills were exceptional and she was kind to my grandmother.
Entertaining Miss Kinsley’s company seemed more important than just about anything—a thought that caused great alarm. I was not the fickle type of man that flirted with many women—or any at all. Not many had interested me until this point, not in the ways that mattered. I found many women attractive, numerous, in fact; some intelligent, and some that proved accomplished. Yet, in each of the ladies I met, there seemed to be something lacking. I hardly knew what I was looking for, but whatever it was, I had not found it. What was it about Miss Kinsley that pulled at me and, quite obviously, from the moment of our first meeting? I must discover the quality she possessed that had encouraged me to save her ribbon, and for my thoughts to not wish to stray from our brief encounters.
Elliot continued to speak, but I caught only one word.
Anna.
I clenched one of my hands into a tight fist. There was the matter of Anna. I had already communicated my intentions or lack thereof, quite emphatically. However, if she persisted in her efforts to engage herself to me, how would I find chances to entertain Miss Kinsley? If Miss Kinsley and I were still in London, perhaps I would have opportunity. However, there was a chance Anna could greatly complicate
my time here. She’d given no indication that she’d internalized my letter or wish to remain as a brother to her, rather than a possible suitor. Impossible situations. That might be my gift to myself.
“Won’t you?” Elliot’s question cut through my reverie.
I blinked, perhaps too many times and or for too long.
His shoulders caved forward, and he released an exasperated sigh. “You have not been listening in the least, have you?”
I offered my most sheepish expression. “Guilty as charged, but I hope you will forgive me.”
Elliot inhaled slowly, and his clear eyes met mine with a spark of humor. “I was only asking if you would accompany Miss Kinsley on a tour of the stables after tea, as I quite forgot I am to meet with the head gardener, but, I can see you are tired after your short, few mile horse ride, and I—”
“Not at all,” I interjected. “A visit to the stable may be just what I need to invigorate me.”
“You are certain the task will not tire you?”
Elliot was teasing me again; my attempts to downplay my favorable impression of Miss Kinsley had been futile, as my distraction of moments earlier served to showcase my fixation. I prided myself on my ability to mask my feelings. Had I really allowed myself to be so transparent?
I shrugged, tilting my neck to one side. The childish attempt to convince him of my indifference only grew worse when I spoke in a soft, exaggerated way. “That is, I do not mind as a favor to you, Elliot. Miss Kinsley is of no consequence.”
He grinned.
I dusted off my sleeves. “I think I shall settle myself before tea, if you are finished harassing me.”
“Never.”
Laughter sprung from my lips, and I remembered any façade against Elliot would not work. “I see you have overtaken my role as master-tormenter.”
Elliot nodded. “Yes, and the role brings great satisfaction. Is it always so gratifying to unnerve a person?”
I steadied myself. “Yes, of course, particularly the serious set of people. You, for instance, do not cease to amuse me. When I teased you about Mary just now, your cheeks turned as dark as a tomato!”
His face colored once more at the mention. “Yes, I suppose we cannot pretend to one another. And, I confess, I cannot blame you for your interest in Miss Kinsley. She has had quite the effect on most everyone she meets, though I believe she is oblivious to the fact. But, Simon, you should know…”
I waited, lifting a brow. “Yes?”
Elliot swallowed. “Miss Kinsley is a most beloved friend of both Anna, my mother, and myself. You must take care, and Anna’s attachment to you could be…”
My eyes widened. How many times would he leave his sentences unfinished? “Yes, I am well acquainted with your sister.”
“Precisely.”
A lump formed in my throat, and my voice cracked. “Elliot, the last time we spoke of it, we quarreled—”
“I know your feelings,” he said, but I felt the edges of hope still on his voice. “But I do not think Anna does.”
“I wrote to her, Elliot. I told her that I could not return her regard, however much I respect and like her. I was quite direct. She is like a sister to me.” I paced a few steps, lifting one hand in the air. “My conscience is clear, for I have been entirely honest—perhaps shockingly so.”
Elliot tipped the edge of his fingers into his waistcoat, nodding. “I believe you, but I do not know if my sister is convinced.”
“What has she said?” I asked.
Elliot’s jaw tightened. “Nothing to me, nothing to anyone that I know. However, I am convinced she has not answered her proposals because of you. I believe she puts her suitors off in hopes that you may reciprocate her feelings upon meeting her again.”
I groaned. With everything I was, I prayed that Elliot was mistaken. I detested speaking so frankly to a lady—at least when it came to rejection. How could Anna have fooled herself into believing I cared for her in that way? If I looked back at our casual relationship in the years just before I’d gone on tour, I could see how I may have possibly behaved inappropriately. I had behaved as a brother would to a sister. Anna, clearly, thought differently. But why would a lady wish to entrap a man that had already expressed his disinterest before disappearing for two years? That fact alone was enough to turn me away from her advances.
“Elliot,” I began, facing him directly, “what would you have me do?”
He shifted his weight, and an auburn lock fell over one eye. “You must be careful with Anna. She will not give you up easily, and even then, I do not wish her to lose Miss Kinsley’s friendship. If either of these women suffer, I shall not know how to forgive you.”
I huffed. “This is all assuming my interest turns into something substantial and that Miss Kinsley would return the sentiments. Isn’t it far too early to be discussing such things?”
He shook his head. “I think it imperative we do discuss it. As a brother to Anna and as your friend, I find my loyalties challenged.”
A moment of silence passed, and the excitement that had coursed through my veins slowed to a sluggish pace. The one lady I wished to know, the one lady that had appealed to me in a completely new manner, and the situation made it nearly impossible. After Italy, I thought Elliot and I had reached a truce on this subject. I had no idea he’d be threatening loyalties if I’d formed an attachment to someone who was not his sister.
Elliot placed a hand on my shoulder. “I do think it wise to caution you one step further. Quite unfortunately, Miss Kinsley’s father is a physician in a town hardly worth notice, and I know how your mother would feel about such things.”
I hardly cared about that. Not now, not yet. “Why did you offer me a chance to give Miss Kinsley a tour if you find the odds so impossible? If you still feel as if there’s a chance that I will see your sister in a different light?”
“Not impossible,” he said, tightening his grip at my shoulder, “just fraught with difficulties.”
There was a chance that Elliot was setting me up so I would realize that Anna was better suited to me. Suited on paper. In station. At the same moment, I recognized the subtle smile on his face that said he could be persuaded to dismiss the idea of Anna and myself, if it was done in a proper way that left Anna satisfied. That may require some encouragement toward one of the men who had already proposed to her.
As for Miss Kinsley’s station. The Windham name could stand on its own. I did not need to raise my station. I did not wish for a marriage that mirrored my parents’ marriage. I wished for a partner...a best friend...fraught with difficulties or not.
A reluctant smile replaced my frown. Elliot and I had often used that phrase—Not impossible, just fraught with difficulties—when we had played as children. Whether we fought with wooden swords as knights protecting the castle or shot guns in our first hunt as young men, we had repeated that encouraging phrase.
“There,” Elliot said, nodding. “There is the spirit.”
The warning left unsaid was, Do not cause my sister pain in the process.
Chapter 11
Isabelle
The barn looked much like the garden fountain, sparkling with specks of light against each mote. I fiddled with my leather gloves, silently awaiting Elliot’s arrival.
Anna had not returned after tea, and without her buffer, conversation naturally led to the stables and Elliot’s previously promised tour. Mr. Windham had not yet ceased his teasing, attempting at every turn to unravel my composure.
My lips curved into an indulgent smile. I had played my part as the oblivious woman quite well, returning each of his underhanded teasings with one of my own, and Elliot, the good but oblivious man, seemed none the wiser. Rather, Mrs. Somerville and Elliot had censured Mr. Windham for his relentless questioning about my literary knowledge and affinity for climbing ladders. He seemed to find as much amusement in my theatrics as I did in his teasing.
Since childhood, I had rarely tried to win another’s approval; I had never
felt the need nor the desire. Pretending to be someone or something other than myself displeased me. Worse, the efforts left me exhausted. A season of trying to prove myself a gentle and mannered lady had fatigued my senses, and without even procuring me a bearable proposal.
No, there had been quite enough pretending on my part to last a lifetime. Mama’s advice was as worn as the boots rubbing against my smallest toes—they had passed well enough, but they had not enabled any true victories. I would not succumb to the idea that one season of failure would make me into a spinster, nor would it necessitate my wedding Mr. Braithewaite.
My lips tugged. The fact that Mr. Windham found my antics enjoyable brought hope. Was there not a possibility of enjoying myself and finding a match, if not at Haven’s Landing, certainly somewhere else? I would not be bullied into waking next to Mr. Braithewaite and seeing his blank smile each morning across the breakfast table. No lady deserved such a fate, even one willing to sacrifice much for her younger sisters.
Juliet’s letter flashed into my mind, and I released a quick breath. I thanked the heavens for her and her words. If it hadn’t been for Juliet’s pleas for my happiness, I might have accepted Mr. Braithewaite.
I walked the length of the stables, inspecting each of the horses. The groom remained near the entrance, allowing me space to wander from horse to horse. I settled on a brown mare, situated beside a finicky white stallion.
“I can see you have endured much,” I said, stroking her nose through the slats of the stall.
The stallion kicked a leg against the dividing wall, emphasizing my words all the more. I giggled, and the mare ignored his call for attention, craning her neck over the barricade to place her cheek next to mine.
Poor Mr. Braithewaite, newly appeared in horse form, had come to take his vengeance on this lovely, unfortunate mare. She, however, did not seem the least susceptible to falling for such a creature. I hoped that if I faced such a man again, I might handle it with her same grace.
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