“If Miss Brinton has been out of the house at all,” Lord Williams said, “I am certain she has discovered it. It would not surprise me if she has been out each morning to enjoy a walk before the rest of us have even opened our eyes.”
I didn’t allow myself to be flattered by his insight into my habits; I was just business, after all. “I have seen the garden. It is quite formal, but it fits the estate perfectly.”
Lord Williams eyed me.
“Oh, there is another garden,” Miss Perrin said. “Walled and filled with roses. It’s quite wild.”
“Elisa,” Lady Cox said, shaking her head.
Miss Perrin fell silent.
My father entered and, after introductions were made, small talk ensued. I walked to him. “Father, I received a letter from Louisa. Alice still has a fever but seems to be improving.”
His brow furrowed with concern. “She still has a fever? Can I see the letter?”
“Oh.” I slid the letter behind my back. “Louisa had things to say of a private nature.”
“Of course.” My father nodded.
“Take care of yourself today. With Alice getting better, it wouldn’t do for you to fall ill.”
Lord Williams stepped beside me. “Mr. Brinton? Are you ready?”
Saddle oil and cologne floated to me on the air, the smells of what might have been had we both been different people. The scents of what would never be. “You are welcome to accompany us, Miss Brinton,” he offered.
I glanced at the party behind him and found Lady Cox glaring at me. “I thank you, my lord, but I doubt Lady Cox and Miss Perrin would like it. I do not wish my presence to inconvenience you more than it already has.”
“Your thoughtfulness knows no bounds,” he muttered before turning toward the others. “Good day, ladies.” With a nod to his mother, he and my father left the room.
“He is such a handsome man,” sighed Lady Cox, suddenly next to me.
“Hm,” I responded noncommittally.
“Do you disagree, Miss Brinton?”
I shrugged. “I do not think it matters what I think of Lord Williams.”
Lady Cox smiled in the most cat-like way. “Yes, I believe you are correct. You do know that he and my daughter are practically engaged?”
He was exactly like Edward. I was lucky to have escaped. “I offer you my congratulations.”
“Nothing is official, but I hope the matter will be resolved quickly.”
As did I. “There is nothing as bothersome as waiting.”
“Very true.” Lady Cox moved next to her daughter and spoke a few low words to her before turning her attention to Lady Williams and Mrs. Hargreaves.
Miss Perrin approached. “I am so glad you are here, Miss Brinton. There are not many ladies in the neighborhood with whom I can associate in good conscience. Lord Williams is most attentive, to be sure, but one does miss the companionship of another female, does one not?”
“Quite true.”
“But you must have many good friends at home, I suppose.”
“I have one friend with whom I am very close. We have known each other all our lives and I hope soon to call her sister. But life would be very dull if there were room for only one friend.”
She graced me with one of her dazzling smiles. “Oh, yes. You said it perfectly.”
We stood in silence, listening to the older ladies’ chatter. Everyone seemed to fit so naturally together. Even Mrs. Hargreaves and Lady Cox had their own routine of insults and rebuffs. I had no place in their small circle.
But it was possible we would be here for at least a few more days. It would be prudent to make some effort. “Have you always resided in the neighborhood?” I asked Miss Perrin.
“No. We moved here only a month ago, when Mama married Sir Timothy.”
She and Lord Williams had formed an attachment quickly, then.
Of course, they had no doubt spent more time together than he and I had, and he had drawn me in easily enough. “Are you pleased with the area?”
“I suppose one could call it charming, but to own the truth I find it a little oppressive. If not for Lord Williams, I might have returned to live with my sister near Portsmouth. Sometimes I think I shall die if I don’t feel a sea breeze on my face. But, of course, that is just an exaggeration, for I have not passed on yet.”
I nodded and, as casually as I could, asked, “Are you very attached to Lord Williams?”
“Oh, yes. He is the very best of men. One could do much worse than Lord Williams, but I don’t believe one could do much better, even if he is only a baron.”
Although she did not speak of him as a woman in love might, her response left no doubt that when he asked, she would accept.
Let him find the love he’d so argued for at the party. I would certainly not stand in the way. “It is not my place to do so,” I said, “but I wonder if we can prevail upon Lady Williams to invite you to dinner. Perhaps your mother. . . .”
Miss Perrin beamed. “That is a wonderful idea. We have no engagements tonight. Then you can perform for us. I myself am not very musical, though I have one song Lord Williams gifted me a few weeks past. Oh, it is not learned as it ought to be. I hope he does not request I sing it for him.”
Lord Williams had given her music? No wonder Lady Cox was in expectation of a union. “How kind of him.”
“He is the soul of generosity. Mama, Miss Brinton has thought up a wonderful idea.” She left me to go to her mother.
Twenty-Seven
A few hours later, I headed away from the river to a lane of trees at the end of which stood a small gate. Once I reached the gate, I pushed it open and stopped under an arbor of white roses. This, then, was the garden Miss Perrin had been speaking of. Blooms of pink, red, white, yellow, and variegated strains stretched down the path before me, their nodding heads beckoning for someone to smell and admire them.
My garden had never looked like this. It’s how it should have looked, though.
Moving down the path, I strolled past trellises and along twisting lanes, the roses making way for mums, asters, lilies, and some flowers I had never seen before. I touched the overhanging leaves of maples and vines as I passed under them. Everything was vibrant without being overwhelmingly so.
This is where I should have been spending my days. I imagined walking in the garden early in the morning when the smell of dew mingled with the aroma of the flowers, when the garden awakened under the first rays of the morning sun.
“Miss Brinton.”
I started up from where I’d bent to inspect a flower, its textured petals soft and delicate. Lord Williams strode down the path toward me.
“You are supposed to be gone all day.” I glanced behind him, but he was alone. Father. Something had happened. “My father—”
“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.”