Gilbourne looked as though he wished to argue—or rather, he looked like a reluctant guardian who thought he ought to argue—but desperately preferred the option of doing exactly as she’d suggested.
He gave a curt nod and matched her low tone. “Very well. Return straight after the competition. I’ll have the carriages ready.” He inclined his head toward Aunt Stapleton. “Stay well, godmother.”
“And you, dear boy,” Aunt Stapleton replied with obvious affection.
Gilbourne stalked off without another word.
“He means well,” Matilda said quickly.
“No, he doesn’t,” Aunt Stapleton said with a fond chuckle. “Except to me, and apparently, also to you. I admit I am pleased to see the both of you getting on as well as I’d hoped when I devised this plan.”
“He didn’t want to be my guardian?” The reminder turned the warm feelings in Matilda’s stomach into acid.
Aunt Stapleton’s expression was kind. “He doesn’t want to allow anyone at all into his life, much less past his defenses. A ward is good for him. He came to a pie competition.”
“For five minutes,” Matilda pointed out.
“Five more minutes than I’d ever dreamt,” said Aunt Stapleton, shaking her head in wonder. “I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe my eyes. Everyone who recognized him was shocked to see him in public.”
Was that it? Matilda wondered if Gilbourne had interpreted the stares as surprise at seeing a reclusive lord emerge from his cave, or if he believed they were simply gawping at the puckered ruin of his face.
She supposed both could be true at the same time.
“He never attends any public event?” she asked.
“No social events,” Aunt Stapleton clarified. “He claims there’s no point dancing with debutantes when he doesn’t intend to take one as his bride. The truth is, he never leaves home at all, except to attend the House of Lords. Coming here to collect you is probably the first time he’s missed a session of Parliament since the day he first took his seat.”
“He must resent me very much,” Matilda said softly.
“You are the best thing that has happened to him. Like most people, Titus wishes to avoid embarrassment. What he fails to understand is that the answer is not avoiding life altogether. Nor is dedicating one’s days to taking care of every citizen in England except for himself.”
“He’s involved in many initiatives?”
“He’d be chair of every committee, if they let him. My godson thinks that if he throws himself deeply enough into his duties to Parliament, it will fill up the emptiness inside. But human beings are social creatures. We all need other people. Including Titus, and including you, my dear.”
“I’m trying to make friends,” Matilda assured her great-aunt. “And I will do my best not to embarrass Lord Gilbourne.”
“I know, darling. Anyone should count themselves fortunate to be your friend. It’s time you step out of your nest and experience—” Aunt Stapleton winced as if a rocket had exploded overhead. She clapped both gloved hands to the sides of her head, cringing in obvious pain.
“Is it the megrim?” Matilda asked in dismay.
Her great-aunt had always suffered debilitating megrims, but could usually depend upon a month or two’s reprieve between each agonizing attack. The most recent one had struck only a few weeks ago.
Aunt Stapleton squinted in obvious pain. “I’m sorry, love. I must return to my room at once and lie down in the dark with some laudanum if I’m to have any hope of traveling home tonight.”
“I’ll walk you there,” Matilda said immediately.
“Don’t be silly, you’ve only just arrived. You and Gilbourne stay and see who wins the competition. I’ll expect a full recounting in a letter, as soon as you arrive in London.”
Matilda and… Gilbourne?
Either her great-aunt hadn’t heard Matilda whisper for the earl to return to the peace and quiet of his own room, or Aunt Stapleton had simply forgotten that small detail due to the severe pounding of her head.
Matilda certainly wasn’t going to set her aunt straight now. She had no intention of quitting the festivities a moment sooner than absolutely necessary. Besides, Matilda had a chaperone, which made it all right. Buttons never trailed more than a few yards behind.
“If you’re certain, Aunt.” Matilda kept her voice low and calm, so as not to jar her aunt further. “I don’t mind walking you to your room. I can rub your neck for you.”
“No, darling, I’m certain,” Aunt Stapleton said firmly. “Have a good time and make some friends. Try to talk Gilbourne into doing the same. I’ll write to you as soon as I’m back in Shropshire.”
