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)
“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.”