Again, an image of bloodstained sheets drifted into his mind, and Drake shoved it away with the same vehemence he had used the last time. “How did you find your way over here?”
A faint blush came to her face as she averted her gaze. “There’s a gap in the hedge. My sisters always sneaked over here to visit with a friend when her father still owned this townhouse. I’m sorry.”
“There is no need. I was merely curious,” Drake assured her, relieved to hear that it was an easy way for her to return home. Easy and safe. “I shall see you outside.” He gestured toward the door, then stepped forward and held it open.
Lady Leonora hesitated, but then nodded. “Very well.” She moved forward, her gaze upon his as she stepped closer, then past him and out into the corridor.
As they walked, Drake was careful to maintain a minimum safe distance between them. He could not say why, but the trust she had placed in him was something he did not want to lose. He could not recall the last time someone had trusted him. Not in this way.
The wind outside was icy, and Drake felt a sudden impulse to offer her his coat. However, he stopped himself and did not even hold back the branches as she made to step through the hedge.
In an odd way, he felt more gentlemanly than he ever had in his life. Perhaps a true gentleman would not simply save the lady, but instead help her save herself.
Chapter Eight
A Watchful Grandmother
As Leonora carefully picked her way back into her parents’ townhouse, she felt a bit calmer than when she had left. The sky was darkening, and more and more guests were returning home. She caught a glimpse of Louisa and Phineas gazing at each other lovingly, and for a moment, it made her smile. She wished them well with all her heart, and although she certainly would miss Louisa, Leonora was happy to see them leave, to embark upon a new, happy life.
Together.
Bidding her family good night as though nothing had happened, Leonora headed upstairs to her chamber. Fortunately, her absence had not been noted, her family too caught up in the celebrations.
A few quick steps carried Leonora to the window, her gaze shifting over the darkening sky, catching glimpses of red and orange and purple. She trailed her gaze over the gardens, shadows springing up here and there until they flew along the hedge and to the gap through which she had passed twice today.
Glancing over her shoulder, Leonora looked at the new notebook she had yet to use. It was still empty, even after all this time. However, thus far, Leonora had not found the courage to note down any new observations. After all, observing those around her only frightened her these days. In truth, however, she ought not look at others now, ought she? She ought to look at herself. Was that not what Lord Pemberton had said?
Before she could change her mind, Leonora snatched up the notebook and put quill to paper as she sank down into the softly cushioned armchair by the window. Countless times before had she sat here and allowed events to replay in her mind, to note down as precisely as possible what she had observed. Only now, she was trying to lay down her own reaction to everything that had happened today, beginning with her sister’s wedding celebration, the many attending guests and then her flight to her neighbor’s townhouse. Indeed, she had fled her family’s home and sought refuge in a stranger’s house. Was there any sense in that?
Exasperated, Leonora shook her head. A part of her wanted to fling the notebook across the room, but she held herself back, knowing that giving into her emotions would never allow her to find her way back to a time when the world had still made sense. And so instead, Leonora continued to write down everything she had felt, everything she had observed about herself. Of course, she could not be completely objective, but she did her utmost. She wrote and wrote, and although her emotions ran rampant, occasionally bringing tears to her eyes, after a while Leonora found something soothing in the familiarity of writing down her thoughts. It felt good to have that part of her back. It felt reassuring, and it gave her hope.
A sharp knock on her door made Leonora flinch, and she dropped her quill. Bending down to pick it up, she called for the person on the other side of the door to enter.
With Louisa no longer under their roof, Leonora was not surprised to see Grandma Edie hobbling into her chamber, closing the door behind her. “How are you tonight, my dear?”
Rising from her seat, Leonora offered it to her grandmother, then set the notebook and quill back down on her vanity. “I’m quite well, Grandma. How are you?”
An amused chuckle drifted from her grandmother’s lips as she settled into Leonora’s chair. Then her gaze drifted out the window and came to linger upon the dark hedge and the house beyond.
Leonora felt a shiver run down her back, wondering if her grandmother had seen her leave or possibly return. No one had said anything, but with Grandma Edie, that did not necessarily have to mean anything.
“Has he made many changes?” her grandmother asked, returning her gaze to Leonora. “Lord Pemberton? Does the house now look greatly different from the way it did when dear Sarah lived there?”
Leonora sighed, then sank down onto the edge of her bed. “I should’ve known,” she mumbled, unable not to smile at her grandmother. “How do you know? Did you see me leave?”
A mischievous grin came to her grandmother’s face. “I did not; however, I did notice your absence.”
“Then how do you know I went to see him?” Leonora asked, belatedly realizing that she was confirming something her grandmother had in fact not known.
Grandma Edie heaved a deep sigh, her pale eyes slowly wandering over Leonora’s face. “I believe he’s good for you. You seem more…at peace whenever he’s nearby.”
Leonora felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. “I wish I knew why. It doesn’t make any sense. Why him?” He was a stranger—as Leonora had told herself countless times—and yet, she had left the safety of her home to seek him out. Alone. Unchaperoned. Yes, if it became known what she had done, her reputation would be in tatters. She would be ruined. Nevertheless, had the man himself not posed the greatest danger? If he had wanted to, he could have harmed her in any possible way. Still, she had felt safe with him or at least as safe as she could these days. Her reaction to him puzzled her for it followed neither logic or reason nor any sense of predictability. She did not know what to make of him or rather herself.
“Does it matter?” her grandmother inquired with a raised brow. The look on her face clearly stated that she believed it did not. “He has proven himself to you, has he not?”
Leonora nodded, remembering all those moments at Windmere Park when she had felt overwhelmed by the situation confronting her. And each and every time, Lord Pemberton had swooped in out of nowhere, doing exactly what she needed him to do, saying precisely what she needed him to say. Yes, he had proven himself to her.
Never had he given her any reason to fear him, to think him less than honest. The truth, though, was that neither had others. In fact, only one man had ever disappointed her, shocked her, hurt her. Of course, she was wrong to always assume the worst of men in general; however, without knowing her attacker’s identity, there was nothing else she could do in order to protect herself. She needed to be distrustful and cautious. Yet, she did not want to be. She never had been.