“Then how did you become my lady’s maid?” Catherine prompted, hoping she was imaging this too.
Miss Larson shook herself and snapped her attention to Catherine. “What was that, my lady?”
She shouldn’t press; she was already toeing that line too closely. But her gut told her to press on. Just in case... “You said Mrs. Morgan wouldn’t let you be a lady’s maid; there was someone else; did she work for Mrs. Oakheart?”
Miss Larson frowned. “I did?” She shook her head again. “Mrs. Oakheart was already married by the time I came to Thornwood...There was another girl...?” Her frown deepened, and she pressed her finger to her temple. “But, I cannot recall her clearly.”
The ghost had warned Catherine she would be next. Both her and Miss Ashton had their hearts carved out. Could this forgotten maid be the ghost? Impossible. Improbable. Dangerous to even consider.
“Don’t trouble yourself. It wasn’t important.” Catherine waved away the question as one would bat at a fly. “Why don’t you advise me the best way to style my hair. Lord Thornton promised to take me out in his two-seater today.”
“Oh splendid, I have just the idea.” She clapped her hands together and got to work.
* * *
Catherine knockedon the double doors to Edward’s study. Though they had an appointment, she still held her breath. An unintelligible reply that could have been “go away” or could have been “come in”. She’d decided today she would be bold, and she eased the door open just enough to slide in. Edward sat at his desk, as he had the day before, his shirt unbuttoned and his cravat untied. The bags under his eyes were bigger than before, and it didn’t appear he had changed clothes since yesterday. Had he not slept at all?
“Just set the tea things over there,” he said and waved his hand toward the edge of his desk, where a tray with an untouched sandwich and teacup rested.
Catherine froze on the threshold. Edward must have forgotten about his promise. Maybe today wasn’t a good day for a carriage ride. Of course, he was busy. Should she say something or slink away without a word?
“Umm. Edward?”
He glanced up. “Oh, Catherine. I wasn’t expecting you...The carriage ride, darling, I am so sorry. I nearly forgot!”
He stood up and walked around the desk, approaching her in a few quick strides. In a blink, he was upon her and her shoulder blades collided with the wall as she backed away, unthinking.
She put up her hands, waving them in front of her. “No. I can see you’re busy. Perhaps another time...” She inched toward the door.
“No, don’t go.” He grabbed her wrist. She tensed.
He let her go as if burned. Catherine exhaled, ashamed. He’d grabbed her so suddenly. She wanted to explain, but how could she admit the truth: that she lied to him in order to escape a worse fate?
She forced a smile, but it must have looked more like a grimace because Edward’s brows pulled together tightly.
“I’ve been a terrible husband. After you fainted the other day, I should have been more concerned with your wellbeing than these damn wild dogs.” He looked to the window where a rare stream of light peeked through. Then his gaze pinned her in place once more. “I’ve been meaning to take you on a tour of Thornwood since we arrived. The paperwork can wait, and I made you a promise after all.”
Edwardcalled for the two-seater, and while that was prepared, he went upstairs to change and wash. Catherine went outside to wait. The feel of warm sunshine on her face, and the scent of fresh grass eased the knot in her chest. She could do this; she would be the kind of wife worthy of Edward. She had to be.
The driver came aroundwith carriage moments before Edward emerged on the front steps looking refreshed and every inch the hero from a novel, as he had when they first met. Edward held out a hand for Catherine to take and helped her into the carriage. When she could see his hands, when she could brace for his touch, it was easy. She could almost pass for normal. The space in the carriage was snug, and they had no choice but to brush elbows. This was the first time they’d be mostly alone since their wedding day. She drew in her arms as close to her body as she could as her face flushed at the possibilities. Would he take them to some secluded spot and kiss her? Would he want more? She wasn’t sure what to think.
“A bit cozy. I hope you don’t mind.” Edward gave her a smile, which she returned, but now her gut was twisting.
With a flick of his wrists, Edward got the carriage moving, and the dappled gelding tossed his mane, and they were on their way. They winded down country roads as Edward pointed out the different sights. He gestured to neighbors’ homes: Mrs. Oakhearts, Mrs. Rosewoods, the local pub called The Fairy Bride, and the shops in the village square. Further out were farmhouses of tenant farmers, the reverend’s cottage, the widow and her spinster daughter, and on and on, he filled the silence with chatter about Thornwood.
“These woods connect all the way to the back end of Thornwood Abbey,” Edward remarked as they rode along them.
Eyes stared at her from the mist, and Catherine turned her head away. There was nothing there. It was just some woods. Nothing to fear from trees. She let his voice wash over her, and little by little, the tension in her shoulders relaxed. The scent of pine and mud, the kiss of the sun warming her skin, it was all so lovely. In novels, heroines went for enchanting tours with their lovers. She’d imagined what it would be like, but this was even better than what she could have imagined. She craned to get a look at the patches of wildflowers growing on the roadside. She’d never seen them before. She turned to ask Edward to stop for a moment and look at them. As she did, she saw his arm raised.
She flinched, anticipating a strike.
“I thought I would put my arm around you, but if you would prefer I didn’t...” he asked.
She was spared from answering when an old woman stepped into the road and flagged them down. Edward had to pull hard on the reigns to avoid colliding with her. The gelding roared his displeasure as they came to a shuddering halt. Catherine lurched forward in her seat and grasped onto the front of the carriage to save herself from being flung forward and out.
“Lord Thornton! Thank goodness you are here. My husband, he’s gotten trapped under his plow.” The old woman came over, reaching for Edward with wrinkled hands.
He looked up to the sun up above, to Catherine, and then to the old woman. “Where is he?”
