“I’ve heard of it,” Julian shook his head, “but no, never frequented the place.”
Josiah waggled a brow. “I highly recommend it. It’s rather exclusive and the entertainment is of the highest quality. The ideal place for a gentleman to drown his sorrows, in fact. Fancy it?”
“Oh, what the hell. Why not?” he replied, capitulating to a rare desire to throw caution to the wind. “Lead on, Joe.”
*
Less than aweek later, Julian was back at Highfield.
“So unfortunately, no, I didn’t actually see the young lady,” he said, having just given his mother a trimmed version of events, “but I’ve been assured she’s in good health.”
Grace smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t a wasted journey, dear. You do look rather tired, though. Perhaps you should take a day or two to rest. It wouldn’t do to have you falling ill.”
“I’m fine, Mama,” he replied. “But the city was brutally hot and the air foul. Not a drop of rain fell the entire week I was there. It was exhausting. Believe me, I’m more than happy to be back in the cooler and fresher climes of Yorkshire.”
He didn’t tell her about the shadow of disappointment that had accompanied him back home. That, and a vague sense of failure. It might not have been a wasted journey, but neither did it yield theresult he’d hoped for.
The responsible side of him told him he was being foolish. Maybe Archibald Mason had been telling the truth. Maybe Annabelle Fairfax was, indeed, traveling abroad. Julian could wait, of course, to see if she responded to the message he’d left with the solicitor. But for how long? How long was reasonable? How long wasunreasonable?
In a little less than a month, he’d be in Miss Aitken’s company once more, this time at Myddleton House, his uncle’s Derbyshire seat. And it seemed likely a decision would have to be made at that time, if not for his sake, then for Miss Aitken’s.
Grace’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Oh, by the way, a letter arrived for you, dear. Two days ago. I put it in your room. Very pretty handwriting! I should imagine a response will be required.”
The intonation in his mother’s voice was clear. So too, it seemed, was the timing. To wait for any kind of response from Miss Fairfax was futility at its finest. There was no expectation, no inevitability. Common sense demanded he set foot on the path that had recently been laid out for him. A path clearly defined and certainly more suited to his status.
“Thank you, Mama.” He stood, ignored the slight ache beneath his ribs, and straightened his shoulders. “I’ll go and read it right away.”
Chapter Ten
Ferndale Grange
On this particularmorning, prompted by Lancelot’s operatic solo, Annie had left her bed and opened her window to cloudless skies and the freshness of a mild breeze. She breathed deep through her nose, relishing the air, while giving silent thanks for the fine, sunny day she had wished for. For today, she intended to venture a little farther into the wilds of Derbyshire. Well, at least to the top of the distant ridge. She’d reached the foot of it a few days ago, but a sudden feeling of isolation had prompted her to glance back at Ferndale. Only the roof and chimneys had been visible, which added to her angst. She’d then wavered between attempting to climb the hill or turning back. In the end, she’d turned back, a decision she’d quickly regretted, for it left her with a sense of defeat. Still, it wasn’t as though the hill was about to disappear.
Today, she would not be defeated, nor would she even turn to look back till she’d climbed the hill. Besides, her curiosity demanded to see what lay on the other side. She could quite easily get the answer from Janet or Amos, but she preferred to retain the enticing sense of mystery this morning’s walk promised.
Breakfast first, though, and one that brought back a memory the moment she stepped into the kitchen.
“Oh, my goodness. This looks so much like the one I remember from when I stayed with my aunt.” Annie seated herself at the kitchen table and bent to examine the little figures on her eggcup. “I’d almost swear it’s the same pattern.”
Janet looked over from where she stood at the stove. “I have four of them. They belonged to my mother.”
“They’re lovely,” Annie replied, a faint blush warming her cheeks as she recalled her conversation with Julian Northcott. Specifically, her embarrassing ramble about her childhood memory of egg cups and speckled brown eggs. She looked up to find Hattie’s gaze on her and knew, instinctively, that they were both thinking the same thing. Annie gave her head a slight shake as her eyes flicked briefly toward Janet.Please, do not mention him.Hattie smiled a quick smile and acknowledged with a brief nod. “So, what do you have planned today, pet?” she asked, glancing at the window. “It’s a fine one, by the looks of it.”
“I’m going for a long walk,” Annie said, following Hattie’s glance. “And yes, it’s a glorious day.”
Soon after, having fed, washed, and dressed, Annie paused on the front doorstep to tie the ribbons of her bonnet. “Splendid,” she muttered, gazing up at the cloudless sky. “Absolutely splendid.”
“Keep your bonnet on and take this as well.” Hattie handed her a parasol. “The sun does dreadful things to the complexion. What do you have on your feet?”
“My walking boots, of course.” Annie lifted her skirts and pointed a foot. “I’ve worn them for every one of my walks. They’re very comfortable.”
“Stop fussing, Hattie,” Janet said, folding her arms. “Let the girl be on her way. She’ll be perfectly fine.”
Ruffy, his tail wagging furiously, yapped his apparent agreement.
“Yes, Hattie, stop fussing.” Annie bent to pet the terrier, who had accompanied her on all her walks so far. Or, at least, part of them. More often than not, the dog would abandon Annie to pursue his own path, returning home in time for his dinner, dirty, panting, and inarguably happy. “Besides, if the boots do begin to hurt, I shall simply remove them and my stockings and continue barefoot.”
Hattie gasped. “You’ll do no such thi—”
