And through it all, she scarcely exchanged another word with Ethan. Mostly because others monopolized his time, and her own heart still reverberated with the echo of his words.
Make more friends. Embrace your name and beallegra—happy. Ye were born for happiness.
Mmm, Allie generally considered her name to be ironic. She was renowned for many things, but cheerfulness wasn’t one of them.
And yet, Ethan’s call to action would not let her be—to seize the day and experience the joy of fully living while she still could.
In short—carpe diem.
It was a ludicrous sentiment. Melodramatic and hollow. A school boy’s chant.
And yet . . . the more time Allie spent with Charswood, the more her future stretched before her in a long, monotonous expanse.
She could clearly see what a life with the earl would entail—a house to call her own, financial security, autonomy during the earl’s lifetime, and the freedom to forge whatever life she wished once she was widowed. A life where Kendall would not intrude. One that would require no emotional vulnerability or risks. Charswood would never coax her to place her tattered heart into his open hands.
It was the sort of future she had long desired. Not exact, but close.
Close enough to have Allie tentatively reaching for it.
And yet, she hesitated. Because when set beside the bright warmth of Ethan Penn-Leith, that future appeared lonely, chill, and barren. A sterile existence. One devoid of children and laughter. Of affection and human touch.
What was she to do?
The day before their scheduled departure, Allie joined Lady Isolde for a leisurely stroll along the woodland walk north of Muirford House.
“So ye will be leaving tomorrow?” Lady Isolde asked, spinning her parasol on her shoulder. Warm Scottish sun peeked out between the scudding clouds.
“Yes. Kendall has discussed business and politics with Britain’s rich and powerful to his heart’s content and is now anxious to return to London and reap the benefits of all that socializing.”
Lady Isolde pursed her lips. “May I ask an impertinent question?”
“Of course,” Allie grinned. “I adore impertinence.”
Lady Isolde smiled widely in return and looped her arm through Allie’s. “Hah! That is the answer of someone who is destined to become my bosom friend.”
Allie barely stifled a surprised inhale.
Another new friend? Two in as many months? She could scarcely countenance such bounty.
“Is that your question?” Allie asked. “Because your sentence wasn’t one. Nor was it impertinent.”
Lady Isolde laughed. “Nae, my question is truly an impertinence.” She pulled them to a stop along the path. “Is your brother less churlish in private? Or is Kendall’s boorishness rather thoroughly ingrained?”
Allie huffed a startled laugh.
Madonna.
How to answer that?
“My brother is . . . complex,” Allie began, slowly. “The twin of my childhood was a kind, shy boy. However, the Kendall I knew as a child is long gone. And given the man he has become . . . well,boorishis rather the politest adjective I would use to describe him.”
Lady Isolde pinched her lips together. “I rather feared that might be your answer.”
“Why is that?” Allie asked, motioning for them to begin walking again.
“I was hoping to coax you into staying on at Muirford House. I would dearly love your company.”
“And you were wondering if my brother would permit me to stay?”
