It was as if that kiss, which had perhaps not been a real kiss at all, had destroyed their friendship.
But now he had come after all.
Alone.
And he had found her alone. Yet when the earl had suggested that he and Frances join them on their walk outside, Viscount Whitleaf had conspicuously not grasped at the chance of having company. He had said nothing. And Frances seemed to have believed that Susannawantedto spend a few minutes of this last afternoon alone with him.
Didshe?
She and Frances had intended spending the afternoon walking all about the lake. Just the two of them. The earl had said at luncheon that he would leave them to enjoy each other’s company since they were soon going to be separated for a while again.
Viscount Whitleaf’s arm, Susanna noticed, was not quite relaxed beneath her hand. There was a certain tension in the muscles there. He did not speak for a while as she directed them across the terrace and diagonally across the lawn toward the woods, where the wilderness walk began.
She could not help remembering the silence in which they had walked more than halfway from Hareford House to Barclay Court the day they met—not quite two weeks ago.
But there was a different quality to this silence.
It was almost impossible to believe that just two weeks ago she had not even met him—except once, briefly, when they were both children.
“There it is,” she said, breaking the silence at last as she pointed ahead to where a clearly defined path disappeared among the trees. “The wilderness walk. It winds its way through the woods and over the hill to a small bridge across the river, and then it follows the river past the waterfall to the lake and continues all around it to approach the house from the other side.”
“A long hike,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Are you up to it?” he asked her.
“I have always loved walking,” she told him.
“I have too,” he said. “I have been on walking tours of the Scottish Highlands and the Lake District. I intend to try North Wales one of these days.”
“Mount Snowdon is said to be quite breathtaking,” she said, “and the whole country rugged and beautiful.”
“Yes,” he said, “so I have heard.”
The path was well kept and allowed them to walk comfortably two abreast. There was an instant feeling of seclusion as tree branches offered shade overhead and tree trunks closed in around them like pillars in a cathedral. A number of birds were trilling out a summer song from their perches above.
“I would be interested to hear about your walking tours,” she said.
He did not answer for a while, and she was aware that his head was turned toward her. She kept looking ahead.
“We can do it this way if you wish,” he said softly at last. “We can find topics upon which one or both of us is able to converse eloquently and at some length. And when we have reached the end of the walk and arrived back at the house we can each congratulate ourselves on the fact that we allowed not a moment’s silence to descend between us after the first few awkward minutes. We can take a cheerful farewell of each other and that will be it. The end of the story.”
She did not know what she was supposed to say. He had asked no question.
“Yes,” she said.
“Itiswhat you wish?” He bent his head closer to hers, and she risked turning her own to look into his eyes, darker than usual in the shade of the trees, only a few inches from her own.
It was her undoing.
“No,” she said, not knowing exactly what she meant but quite certain that she did not want to chatter politely with him about inconsequential matters when this was their last time alone together.
Ever.
“No,” she said again, more firmly, and she smiled fleetingly and turned her head to look ahead along the path once more. “But in what wayarewe to do it, then?”
“Let us simplyenjoythe afternoon and each other’s company. Let us laugh a little,” he said. “But real enjoyment and real laughter. Let’s be friends. Shall we?”
