But she crushed it at once. Nothing had happened.Almostwas not enough. He had stopped himself. Even more so, he had proved himself capable of restraint. She ought to be grateful for it. The very idea that he might come to sit beside her because of some mad impulse, because of one moment behind a kitchen table… it was ridiculous.
“Matilda?” Evelyn’s voice broke gently through her thoughts. Matilda blinked, realizing her sister had asked her something.
She flushed. “Forgive me, I did not catch that.”
Cordelia leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “She is lost in her thoughts. Dreaming away while the rest of us carry on. Tell us, Matilda, what captivates you so?”
Matilda stiffened. “I am hardly?—”
“A lady need not explain herself.” Greyson Thornhill’s voice cut across the table, low and commanding. He had not raised it, but it carried, nonetheless. He sat like a statue of marble, but his gaze was sharp, steady and protective in a way that startled her. “One is permitted to let the mind wander, is one not?”
Cordelia blinked, surprised into silence. Hazel smothered a smile into her teacup. Evelyn gave Matilda a fond look, while Mason let out a laugh.
“Careful, Thornhill, you’ll spoil her.”
Greyson’s steady gaze lingered, and though Matilda’s instinct was to retreat, something in his composure made it impossible to refuse.
“Well,” she began, choosing her words with care, “I was admiring the roses. My sister has cultivated such a variety of them, you see. Cream, blush, even a striking yellow. I was wondering how many years it must take to tend a garden so well.”
“A practical thought,” Greyson said, inclining his head slightly. “It does not surprise me. You strike me as a woman who notices details others might overlook.”
The unexpected compliment stole her breath for a moment. She smoothed her napkin across her lap, uncertain how to respond. “I do not know if that is so, Your Grace.”
“It is,” he said simply. “Most speak of roses only to praise their beauty. Few ask what labor lies behind them.”
Cordelia gave a soft laugh. “Good heavens, listen to the two of you, so solemn over roses!”
Mason added with mock gravity, “I believe I just heard Greyson Thornhill pay a compliment. Matilda, you should feel honored. He rarely wastes words.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Do hush, Mason.”
But Matilda hardly heard them. Greyson’s attention remained fixed upon her, and she was relieved to speak without having to be on guard all the time.
That was how she found herself speaking again, more easily than she had expected. “I think there is comfort in such things. In knowing something may bloom again next year, if given patience. Do you keep roses at Callbury?”
“Of course. The gardens are tended with strict care. We encourage symmetry. Nothing is left to chance.”
She nodded, lips curving as though in admiration. “That must look very fine.”
“It does,” he said, and though his eyes held hers, his voice was as cool and even as ever.
Her smile faltered for just a heartbeat. Something in his unwavering composure left her oddly restless. She lifted her cup again, stalling. “I confess I like when the garden looks a little wild. As though it has a mind of its own.”
Greyson considered. “Unruly gardens require twice the discipline.”
“Ah,” Matilda said softly, forcing another smile.
Yet even as she answered, her mind betrayed her, slipping back to a memory of a very different conversation, one laced with smirks and barbs and quick retorts. Jasper, needling her until her cheeks flushed hot, always dancing just on the edge of impropriety. It was infuriating, but alive.
Greyson’s voice called her back. “You think otherwise?”
“I… perhaps,” she said carefully. “Sometimes it is pleasant not to have everything in order.”
He inclined his head gravely, as if weighing her words. “An interesting perspective. Do you read much, Lady Sterlington?”
Matilda inclined her head. “I do. More than is fashionable, I am afraid.”
His expression did not change, but there was the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes. “A useful habit. Better than idle chatter, at least. History, philosophy?”
