“None, Captain,” Annabelle replied. “Upon consideration, I suppose I’ve led a sheltered life, but not an unhappy one. My father made sure I had a broad education. As a child, I had an excellent governess, and my maid, Hattie, has been like a mother to me.”
“Do you have a favorite pursuit?” Evie asked. “Do you ride, play the pianoforte, perhaps, or do needlework?”
“Actually, I do recall riding a pony when I was little, though I’m not sure where that was,” she replied, frowning. “But my answer must be no, I do not ride. I play the pianoforte rather poorly, but I play anyway because I enjoy it. Needlework is not a favorite pastime, but I pick it up on occasion. I enjoy walking and I love to read. I read a lot, and all kinds of books. My father encouraged it, and he had quite an extensive library. Nothing compared to Myddleton’s of course.”
“You have that in common with our sister, Louisa,” Clara said. “She always has a book in her hands.”
“Your brother mentioned her to me.” Annabelle glanced at Julian. “She and her husband are not here, though, I understand.”
“Louisa is in an interesting condition,” Grace explained, “so she and Maxwell thought it best to remain home.”
“Ah, I see.” Annabelle nodded. “And there is also another brother, I believe.”
“Josiah.” Aldous shifted in his seat. “He’s an artist. Lives in London, prefers it to the country.”
Annabelle’s eyes widened. “An artist. How fascinating. What does he paint?”
Aldous smiled. “Portraits, mostly.”
“Really?” She appeared to ponder a moment. “Are any of them on display here?”
“No. At least, not yet. He specializes in private commissions.” Aldous’s gaze flicked briefly to Julian. “He’s in great demand, apparently.”
Immediately, the image of the duchess arose in Julian’s mind. He suppressed a smile and wondered, vaguely, where Her Grace was. In her room, most likely, given that His Grace had obviously awoken and vacated the library.
The sound of Annabelle’s laughter shifted Julian’s focus back to the present, where he watched and listened as the conversation continued around him.
It wasn’t possible, he thought, a short while later, to love someone you hardly knew. Someone with whom you’d spent so little time. It simply wasn’t possible. So, whatever had taken up residence in an empty corner of his heart couldn’t be love. But perhaps it was the prospect of it, or even the precursor to it. Watching Annabelle Fairfax with his family for these past twenty minutes had convinced him that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She was genuinely animated, her cheeks sweetly pink, eyes bright as she listened, hands moving as she chatted. Not a hint of nerves or shyness remained.
She belonged with them. She belonged withhim.
Smiling to himself, his gaze drifted away from Annabelle and met that of his mother. She responded to his smile with one of her own and gave her head a slight shake. But it wasn’t a contradictory message. Rather, it implied an understanding of what lay behind Julian’s recent excursion to London, and perhaps an acknowledgment of what now lay in his heart. At that same moment, as if calling an end to their meeting, the luncheon gong sounded a cacophonous summons.
“Will you be joining us for luncheon, Miss Fairfax?” Grace asked, rising to her feet, with everyone else following suit.
Julian hoped she’d say yes, but expected a refusal, which came instantly.
“It’s exceedingly tempting,” Annabelle replied, “but I really must return to Miss Caldridge. I promised not to leave her alone with her task. It has, however, been an absolute pleasure to meet you all. Thank you so much for your kindness and hospitality.”
Aldous gave a nod. “The pleasure is ours, Miss Fairfax. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
“No doubt,” Grace added, with a quick glance at Julian.
“Indeed.” Julian moved to Annabelle’s side. “If you’ll excuse me, Mama, Papa, I’ll escort Miss Fairfax back to the gallery, or wherever Miss Caldridge happens to be. I won’t be long.”
Chapter Fourteen
From excitement todespair to joyfulness, what a day it had been! Annie could hardly make sense of all that had happened thus far, and the day was not quite over yet. She was still with Julian Northcott, still beside him, as they headed down the hallway toward the gallery.
He spoke. “May I call on you, Miss Fairfax?”
At last. The question she had wished for, hoped for. He had asked it softly, almost whisper-like, exactly as Annie might have imagined if she’d been daydreaming about him in a moment of solitude. But this was no daydream. The actuality of it almost robbed her of the ability to reply. It also unsettled her a little, though she couldn’t quite fathom why.
“Yes sir, you may,” she replied, near breathless with anticipation. “I would like that very much.”
“Then I’m already looking forward to it.” Wearing a slight frown, Julian cleared his throat. “The thing is, I fear I cannot call on you till Monday. The reason I’m at Myddleton House is because I was invited to my uncle and aunt’s party, which, of course, begins tomorrow and continues till Sunday. I could arrange an invitation for you, but given that you are in mourning, I’m not sure it would be appropriate.”
“It would not, sir, but thank you,” Annie replied, with a shake of her head. “Monday is perfectly fine. I’m already looking forward to it as well.”
