However, after he took his leave, he reached the bottom of the staircase leading to his room and had a change of heart.
Or rather, his feet had other ideas when he heard the sound of strange female voices heading in his direction.
It wasn’t that he was scared of ladies. On the contrary, he liked women very much.
And perhaps just as importantly...they liked him.
But right at this particular moment, the idea of making small talk and answering the inevitable questions about his travel, his time with the military, his plans for the future…
The thought was unbearable.
And so he did what no good soldier should do.
He ran.
Well, he walked as quickly as his injured leg could carry him. Once outside, the glaring sun beat down on him and there were voices everywhere he turned. He heard male voices talking and laughing near the stables. The sound of high-pitched voices drifted from the gardens.
He picked up his pace as he headed away from the great house.
People were everywhere. Guests were swarming his property. What he wouldn’t give for a moment alone. Some time to take in all that had happened these past few months.
When he reached a fork in the path, he had to make a decision. To head to the right toward the chapel or to the meadows to his left. The chapel was likely deserted but if he went there, he would feel compelled to visit his father’s grave in the neighboring graveyard.
His stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of facing his father—or rather, his father’s headstone.
He ran a hand through his too-long, disheveled hair.
He wasn’t ready.
He glanced down at his travel-worn clothes, scrubbed a hand over the stubble he had yet to shave. No, his father would not have appreciated a visit from the new Marquess in such a condition.
The thought brought with it a hint of a smile. He and his father had always butted heads when it came to tradition and what was expected of him. They’d fought fiercely from the time he was old enough to speak.
But they’d loved just as fiercely, and that was what had him moving to the left, avoiding the inevitable.
He’d had some time to deal with the fact that his father was gone. Yet it was one thing to understand his father had died, and another to see his grave.
Just being back here and not hearing his father’s booming voice the moment he’d arrive…
He sighed as he kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, his pace slowing now that he wasn’t running away from the party guests.
He couldn’t imagine any of those guests would venture this far from the main house, not unless they were one their way to a hunting party or out for a ride. But it was too early in the day, and from what he could tell, most everyone who was awake was in no hurry to wander the grounds.
He tipped his head back to revel in the sunshine, the fresh air, the breeze that kept this day from being unbearably hot. He spotted a rarely used shed in the distance. It was a bare-bones structure the farmhands used to keep out of the sun when it was hot or to shelter from the wind when it was cold.
Right now it looked like the ideal place to catch up on some sleep.
After all, his mother wouldn’t let him escape this party forever. No doubt she was already planning some sort of grand celebration for the return of the prodigal son.
He gave a snort of amusement at the thought as he pushed aside the rickety door to the shed, walked into the dark shadows of the interior and—
Fell.
“Oof!” He tripped over something and went sprawling. His hand hit the wall and he managed to just catch himself before he fell flat on his face, his leg wrenching painfully.
“Ow!” The something he’d tripped over squeaked in surprise. Soft weight pressed into him. Warm and sweet, the smell of summer flowers wrapped about him.
A girl.
For a moment, all was a dark sea of awkward limbs and fumbling hands until he was seated upright, and the girl he’d tripped over was...in his lap.