Why did she feel the need to protect this man, someone who looked as if he could have bested Napoleon and his army with one hand tied behind his back? She hadn’t the faintest idea. But as he took a bite of the creamy concoction, and his eyes closed in bliss, she found that she would do it again, and gladly.
Chapter 12
The following morning, Lady Tesh joined the small party for the morning meal. Normally, the viscountess preferred to breakfast in the comfort and solitude of her own room before joining them. So it was a sight indeed to see her, fully dressed in brilliant purple, a feathered turban perched upon her head, hands heavy with all manner of jewels, feeding small pieces of ham to Freya.
Lenora was an early riser herself, and so she found only humor in the colorful, energetic display the woman presented. As she looked across at Mr. Ashford, however, she could tell by the way he squinted at his great-aunt, his eyes tight at the corners, that he could well do without the added assault on his senses.
“Peter,” Lady Tesh called out, eyeing the man’s sparsely filled plate, “you simply must try the sausage.” She speared one such plump item, the tines of her fork piercing the casing and sending juice streaming across the pristine table.
“Thank you,” Mr. Ashford managed, lifting his steaming cup of coffee, “but I’m well supplied for my needs this morning.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Tesh declared. “A strapping man like you needs sustenance. Lenora,” she said in strident tones, “tell my great-nephew that he needs proper sustenance for today’s expedition.”
Lenora blinked, her fork suspended halfway to her mouth. The bit of egg on the end of it quivered as all eyes swiveled her way. “I’m sorry, where are we going today then?”
“Why, the Elven Pools, of course.”
“The Elven Pools,” Lenora repeated blankly.
“Certainly. You mentioned you wanted to visit your old haunts. And today is the perfect day for the Elven Pools. Just look at that sky.” She pointed her fork at the window, the sausage still speared on the end. Lenora eyed it with fatalistic horror, certain it would go flying off the end any minute to pelt Mr. Nesbitt, who sat at her side, in the face.
The image was so ludicrous that she nearly laughed.
Margery spoke then, distracting her from her musings. “Oh, Gran, what a splendid idea. Lenora and I haven’t been in an age. Not since…” Her voice trailed off, and she turned dismayed eyes to Lenora.
It took Lenora a moment to understand her friend’s reaction. When she did, however, it hit her with stunning force. A loud clatter filled the room. She stared down at her fork blankly, the silver tines winking up at her beside the now chipped plate.
Quick as a wink, a footman was at her side, sweeping the damaged tableware away, replacing it with a fresh plate piled high with all her favorites. But at the sight of the steaming eggs, the scone, the plump sausage, her stomach flipped in protest.
“I say,” Mr. Nesbitt spoke into the agonized hush, “are you ladies well? You both look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
An apt description. For the specter of that long-ago day hung over Lenora now, all the more powerful because of her forgetfulness…and her desperate wish to have kept it forgotten.
“I’m afraid,” Margery murmured, “that when last we were at the Elven Pools, my cousin Hillram proposed to Lenora.”
There was a thick silence, broken only by a low curse from Mr. Ashford.
Everyone looked his way, including Lenora.
“What was that, Peter?” Lady Tesh demanded.
The man flushed. “Burnedmy tongue,” he muttered. “On the coffee.”
Lenora could not fail to notice, though, that he was quick to down the rest of the beverage. Nor did she fail to see that his cool blue eyes were focused with disturbing intensity on her.
“Gran,” Margery said low, “perhaps the Elven Pools can wait for another day.”
“Nonsense,” the older woman declared, feeding Freya some egg directly from her fork before spearing a second piece. “The anticipation of such a thing will only make the going worse.”
“Then mayhap we might forgo the trip altogether,” her granddaughter ventured.
Lady Tesh turned outraged eyes on Margery. “Forgo the Elven Pools? Do you forget the importance they played in the love affair between Synne and Ivar?”
“Of course not, Gran. And I know your records of the history of the Isle are important to you. Perhaps, in this case, I can take over the illustration duties—”
Lady Tesh slashed a hand through the air, cutting Margery off. Unfortunately it was the one holding her fork. Fortunately Mr. Nesbitt was quick, and managed to duck out of the way of the bit of egg that came flying off the end. This time, however, Lenora didn’t have the slightest temptation to laugh.
“I won’t hear another word about it. It’s Lenora or nothing.”
