“Really.”
“All’s well that ends well, I suppose one could say.”
“One could indeed.”
Lured by the beautifully drawn map, he stared at the arrangement of land. “This isn’t quite the same as today, though, is it?”
“No, there have been some changes.” Holly came to stand beside him. “There was a huge flood in…um…” she frowned, “maybe a hundred years ago or so, I can’t recall the exact date. And that changed the course of the river here.”
He watched her as she touched the blue water where it separated Myrtle Manor and Rosewood Park. “There’s now a pretty waterfall, since it goes over part of the granite ledge that runs through our properties. You can see some of the rocks in the forest.”
“And this is exactly where it was before?”
Curious, Holly turned and glanced at him. “I suppose so. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered.”
“Hmm,” she shrugged, then ran her finger along the edges of the river. “I think it moved that way, but that’s only because I recall my sister Cherry telling me that some of the plants in this area were probably a result of the sediments in the soil.” She sighed. “It is interesting, of course, but Cherry does tend to go on about anything that’s green and grows, well past the point where any ordinary person has lost interest.”
“This would be the sister who has just wed, I think you mentioned?”
“Yes. I expect she’s now happily planning all the spring plantings at Belcaster, their ducal residence.” Holly grinned.“But they’ll be here for Christmas, I hope, if the snowstorms aren’t too severe.”
Nodding, Richard’s gaze returned to the map. There wassomething…something about the course of the river. In this map it wound past Forest Grange land, then meandered around the small country house that was already named Myrtle Manor, and on to become the edge of Rosewood Park.
It nibbled at the edges of his brain, an irritating feeling that he was seeing something important, but not really understanding it properly.
He was about to say just that to Holly when the door opened, and two figures walked in.
“Miss Trease, Mr Hawkesbury…Mr Blackstone,” intoned Ferguson, bowing slightly, as he led the gentleman into the library and made the introductions.
Holly straightened. “Good afternoon, sir.” She crossed the room and curtseyed politely.
“Mr Blackstone.” Richard gave a gentlemanly nod of greeting, receiving a similar gesture.
“Mr Hawkesbury.”
The dark gaze immediately returned to Holly, making Richard’s skin crawl a little. He fully understood, and agreed with, Lady Hazel’s comment. This was not a man to be left alone with a lovely young woman.
“I understand you visited Myrtle Manor this morning, sir. I trust you found Mr Harry Chalmers well?”
Holly’s question was a casual one, but Blackstone seemed to pay close attention to it. “Unfortunately, Miss Trease, I didn’t find him at all. The gentleman was not at home.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, to be sure. To travel in this weather only to arrive at an empty house? Most disappointing for you.” Holly’s words were perfectly cordial.
Blackstone’s lip curled. “Indeed. Most disappointing.”
“I must assume then that Harry wasn’t expecting you, sir. It has been my experience that he is always on hand to welcome guests…”
“I will bow to your assertion, Ma’am. Mr Chalmers was indeed unaware of my impending arrival, so yes, I cannot lay the blame on his head.”
“A wasted trip, though, sir,” offered Richard. “A disappointment, especially given the storm.”
Blackstone turned his head toward Richard. “I wouldn’t say wasted, sir.” His lips curved a little. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
Holly came to his side, and it was all he could do not to take her hand. That expression on the other man’s face was not one of pleasure or amusement. It was barely even a smile. But it did send a ripple of unease up Richard’s spine, and he was very glad Holly stood close.
But before anything else could be said, there was a tap on the door and Ferguson’s head appeared around the wood.
