“Perhaps fairies then,” I replied, remembering how she would search for the Fae so ardently when she was younger.
Whitney turned to look at me then and I was relieved her focus had shifted. “Fairies, Miriam? Truly? Do you think I am still but ten?”
Grinning brightly, I took her arm and looped it with my own. “I do fear that I will never see you as you are for you will always be the little girl who followed me everywhere.”
“That may be so, but I am no longer a believer in the Fae. I moved on from that fantasy years ago,” she assured me.
I sighed, as if that knowledge was truly heartbreaking, as I led her out of the garden. “Tis a shame you lost your youthful sight. Now you may never catch a glimpse.”
Whitney laughed again and thankfully seemed to have forgotten the girl in the trees. We turned toward the east corner before I chanced a quick glance and standing there watching us retreat was Emma. She lifted her little hand when I caught sight of her then she was gone once again.
“I could use some tea,” I said, making conversation as I kept moving toward the front of the estate.
“Oh yes, I do hope they bring the raspberry tarts again. Those were divine. I could have eaten a dozen,” Whitney said hopefully.
“I’m sure they can be requested,” I told her.
“And the cucumber sandwiches were lovely. It is so indulgent having tasty morsels when we ask but for tea,” Whitney said.
Aunt Harriet typically only asked for sandwiches with tea or biscuits if we had company. Typically, she preferred her chocolate with her tea. The array of food that had arrived with tea when Whitney had requested it had been all she could talk of when I returned late that afternoon. It was the most fascinating thing she had seen since our arrival.
When we reached the front of Chatwick Hall, Ashington was walking the path back toward the house from the stables. He looked as if he had just returned from a ride. His gaze found mine and he paused to wait on us to reach him.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I trust you’ve found things to occupy yourself today,” he said.
“Quite! The rose gardens are truly spectacular and I do love your Tudor roses,” Whitney replied with enthusiasm. I was thankful she left out the sighting of the little girl in the forest.
“I will admit I know little of roses. Those were my mother’s passion. However, I also enjoy spending time in the gardens. It is rather peaceful,” Ashington told her.
His gaze shifted back to me then. The silly way my body reacted to his attention startled me yet again. The more time I spent with him, the stronger my reaction seemed to be. Although I was aware of his secrets and almost positive his interest in me had little to do with any attraction to me, I was very attracted to him.
“Has your day been enjoyable?” he asked me then.
“Yes, very much so. How can one not enjoy yet another day of sunshine and the beautiful countryside,” I quipped, trying not to let it show that I had, in fact, missed him. I loved time spent with my sister but upon seeing Ashington, I felt a pang at the idea we would be leaving tomorrow and seeing him would no longer be a daily occurrence.
“Indeed,” he agreed, but his eyes seemed to say much more. Perhaps it was my imagination or my wishful thinking, but it did feel as if he might have missed me as well.
“We were just going to have some tea,” Whitney told him. “Would you join us?”
His gaze stayed on me a moment longer than necessary when he finally looked toward my sister and smiled. “Tea sounds perfect. I’m parched,” he replied.
“Lovely. I’m ever so hopeful it arrives with raspberry tarts today as it did when I requested tea yesterday,” Whitney told him.
The corner of his mouth curled up with amusement. “I can make sure it does, in fact, arrive with the tarts,” he assured her.
Whitney released my arm to clap in delight. “Wonderful!”
Ashington was making it more difficult by the second not to fall in love with him. It was a ridiculous idea and I was very well aware of it. He had secrets and I knew about them, even if I did not know the specific details. Until I was given the explanation of Emma Compton, then I had to remain sensible. Keeping my head about me when I was with him must become my focus.
Chapter Thirty
Earl of Ashington
“Miriam’s a peculiar girl, I am quite aware, but I dare say she has a most unique way of looking at life. Never a dull moment with her,” Alfred said after his third glass of port.
The ladies had all retired for the evening and we had made our way to my study after leaving the dining room. The fortified Portuguese wine seemed to have loosened Wellington’s tongue. Dinner had been as enjoyable as the previous meals with his wife and nieces. Miriam and Lady Wellington often entertained us all with their quips and stories. I had found I looked forward to meal time while they were in residence with me.
“She has a way that causes her to stand out amongst the crowd. I find that rare indeed,” I replied honestly. Miriam’s beauty was one thing, but her quick mind and determination to succeed for her family was quite another.
“Her mother is nothing like the girl, and her father was an arse. I never cared for the man. Most of Miriam’s life I spent in New Orleans. Until her mother requested that I put her out into society, I hadn’t seen Miriam since she was a wee thing of perhaps two years of age. Whitney, I had never met at all. I find that a failing on my part. I just don’t care much for my sister. She’s a hard woman. In her youth, her vanity made her oft times cruel.”
I was sure the port had caused this information to come forth, but I was grateful for it. Any insight into Miriam’s life was indeed something I desperately wanted. Admitting to myself it was not solely for the sake of Emma but for me as well. Miriam Bathurst might easily make me love her. I was finding I thought of little else but her at all moments of the day. Whereas I had not expected or desired such a reaction to my future wife, I now believed I couldn’t accept anything else.
“She was a twin you know,” he continued. “Twas a boy. Exactly what that arse of a father wanted. A male to carry on the title. The wee thing didn’t last long at all and my sister, as spiteful as she is, was broken for some time after. Losing a child is difficult on any mother. I fear Miriam has been neglected from her earliest days on this earth. A child should have the love of their parents. To see the young lady she has become, who loves her sister so deeply she would do anything while she herself lived her life without the love of her parents, it is truly remarkable.”
Miriam had said her father had wanted a son, but she hadn’t explained it so very clearly. Perhaps she didn’t want to see it laid bare before another. The simple fact that she had turned out so utterly lovely without her mother giving her the nurturing she must have longed for gave me hope for Emma. However, there was another part of me that ached for Miriam. The little girl who needed her mother’s love and attention yet received none of it. How heartbreaking it seemed.
“Listen to me carrying on so. Port makes me melancholy. Always has. It’s time I retire for the evening and leave you to some blessed silence,” Wellington said with a slight slur in his voice. He swayed slightly as he stood.
“Wellington,” I said standing up. “My intentions with your niece are noble. I was drawn to her for all the qualities you mentioned tonight. I do see the rare gem she is. Rest assured, I would not have brought you all here if I wasn’t serious about getting to know Miriam and what is most important to her.”