Once they were seated with their lemonades, Mr. Collingsworth asked. “How is Lady Charlotte faring? I was sorry to hear about her accident.”
“She’s doing better. Thank you for asking,” Richmond said.
“Please do give her my best, Your Grace.”
“Of course.”
After an awkward thirty minutes of stilted conversation, Emma was glad to be heading back to the Hall. She didn’t understand Richmond’s standoffish behavior. Did he not care for the vicar’s son? Ben Collingsworth was universally liked, and it was apuzzle that the duke had apparently taken a dislike to him. Never had drinking lemonade been such a chore before.
When they reached the manor, Richmond handed them down.
“Thank you for escorting us today and for our gifts, Your Grace,” Julia said.
“It was my pleasure, Miss Julia.”
Sophia kissed his cheek. “Thank you, brother,” she said before joining Julia walking into the manor.
“Your Grace, is there something amiss?” Emma asked.
“Not at all, Miss Bainbridge. Why do you ask?”
Emma wasn’t about to suggest that the duke’s behavior had been rude, so she shrugged. “No reason. You were unusually quiet on the ride back, that’s all. I’ll see you at tea.”
Chapter 11
Another week passed, and after spending the morning reading with Charlotte, Emma and Ava walked along the path to the dower house, breathing in the cool September air. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and she was happy to be outside. The intense heat of August had finally gone. A refreshing breeze blew wisps of hair that had escaped her bonnet around her face.
“What a glorious day for a walk,” Emma said.
“I agree. It’s nice to be out of the manor for a bit,” Ava said.
Although Emerson Hall was a grand manor with plenty of rooms, it seemed smaller every day the duke was in residence. Her breath quickened, and her insides fluttered whenever he looked at her. She had to escape those intense stares, and as they walked toward the dower house, she would check with Millie how Mr. Bishop was feeling today.
The last time she inquired about him, Millie told her his wound had festered, and he’d developed a fever, but thankfully, he was recovering.
She still wondered why he was staying in the cottage, but as time went on, the reason no longer mattered. She had not asked Edgerton about his guest, mostly because she didn’t think he’d tell her anyway. She was just glad that Mr. Bishop was doing better.
She knocked on the door, and Millie pulled it open. “Good afternoon, Miss Bainbridge,” she said with a curtsy.
“Good morning, Millie. How is Mr. Bishop today?” Emma asked.
“Improving every day,” the maid said.
“I’m so pleased to hear that.”
“He’s outside in the garden enjoying the sunshine today if you wish to say hello.”
“Thank you, Millie. Perhaps, a quick hello will suffice,” Emma said as she and Ava walked around to the back and found Mr. Bishop sitting on a bench. His dark hair was combed back from his face, and his brown eyes were full of life, so much better than their dullness last week.
“Miss Bainbridge, this is a wonderful surprise,” he said, rising from the bench and giving her a bow.
“Oh, please do sit, Mr. Bishop. I only stopped by to see how you’re faring?”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“You’re looking well today. Does your wound still pain you?”
“I hardly notice it with you here.”
