Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Instead, we rode horses and had a picnic. He was an excellent companion and as I had laid in bed last night, I realized I laughed more that day than I had in a very long time. As lovely as the day had been, I did wonder when or if I would be introduced to Emma. His not doing so yet could only mean I had not met his qualifications. Perhaps that was a bit harsh, but it was all I could think. It was hindering an otherwise perfect day.
“Have you ever seen so many Tudor roses in one place?” Whitney exclaimed with glee. Her hands were clasped together as she looked reverently on at the roses she had just come across. I would admit that I knew little of roses, but I did enjoy them. Deciding to focus on Whitney, I turned and walked back down the small path toward her.
“Which are the Tudor roses?” I asked.
Whitney frowned at me. “You can’t be serious. With all those books you bury your head in, you have read nothing of roses?”
Whitney was not one to read, so she did not understand the love of novels or the difference in a story and a book meant to educate. “I read novels that take me to another place and time. They give me an escape from the reality in which I live. I do not read books on botany. I have little interest in that sort of knowledge. However, it is clear that you do. Father had some books in his library that I believe you would find enjoyable. There aren’t any specifically about roses, but there are a few about the flower gardens of the English countryside.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Truly?” she asked as if the idea had never crossed her mind. She had never been one for stories, even when she was young. I tried to read to her and she never made it through one complete story before falling asleep.
“Yes, I should have thought of bringing you one before now,” I said, realizing all along I had been placing the wrong book in her hands.
“You did try to convince me that books were magical and I never agreed. One can’t blame you for not thinking of me when you found the garden books.”
“It could also be I was terrified you would ask me to read them to you and then I would be the one falling asleep after but a few pages,” I teased her.
Her laughter was always good for my soul. It had been since we were young. Whitney’s amusement faded quickly as she stared out across the back yards toward the trees. “I think I saw someone,” she said, studying the exact location of the path that led to the cottage.
There was no sign of someone there now, but that did not mean Emma wasn’t hiding just inside. Would she come out with Whitney here? I glanced at my sister and had to quickly decide if her meeting Emma was something that should happen.
Although I trusted my sister, I knew only what I had come to in my own imagination. I did not know the exact details of Emma’s being here, but I did know her last name was Compton. The rest took very little imagination. For if Ashington had a younger sister, she would be the daughter of Nicholas’s mother and not here at Chatwick with Ashington being hidden in a cottage.
“Tis but the breeze playing with the branches,” I told her and then took her hand to lead her somewhere else before Emma resurfaced.
“No, it was very clear. There was a little girl just inside the tree line. As if there was a path hidden.” Whitney continued to watch the area for another sighting.
“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.