Forgetting her ribbon, she turned and all but fled to the loneliness of her room. Had he mistaken her tears for unwillingness? Revulsion?
There was no sleep to be had that night.
At dawn, Leith rode into Glasgow on the fastest mount in Ardraigh Hall’s stables as if he could outrun last night’s memory. A dozen excuses flailed his conscience. He’d had too much Virginia brandy, and then as he was faced with a Virginia beauty, his ironclad defenses had scattered like billiard balls. The tears in Juliet’s eyes had told him his attentions pained her, and she’d fled like he was doing this morning after a long, tormented night. Absenting himself, he’d give her room to collect herself and reestablish the hedge between them.
God, forgive me.
The plea was nearly as jarring. He had no recent memory of asking forgiveness, yet he owed her and the Almighty that. For some uncanny reason she made him want to be better than he was. Different than he’d been. But the truth remained. She’d never wanted this marriage, and he had no right to expect more than a contract as he’d once stated. The best, most sincere apology he could give her was to remove himself from her presence.
52
He whom love touches not walks in darkness.
Plato
“Sister, you seem unusually preoccupied this morning. I hope you’re not worried about Minette’s malady.” Loveday’s query nearly made Juliet miss a stitch as she worked her embroidery. “The leading Glasgow physic is attending her, remember.”
Juliet was worried that Minette’s ailment seemed to have worsened. Her sister, Édith, was never far from her thoughts of late. Though Minette had said no more about her, the puzzle of her disappearance haunted.
But far more than this beat about her beleaguered brain. She could hardly share her concerns about last night and Leith. The very memory made her lightheaded if not lighthearted.
When she hesitated, Loveday pressed, “You’re not skittish about the Paisley ball, are you?”
Juliet looked up from her tambour frame to the window she sat beside. On a clear day she could see Paisley’s chimneysacross a vast expanse of parkland. “I’ve not much time left to worry about it, you mean.”
“Time enough for the mantua-maker to finish our gowns. A spring engagement is lovely to look forward to.” Loveday turned coquettish. “As is a spring proposal.”
For a moment Juliet forgot her misery. “Has Niall asked you?”
“I expect he might declare himself after the ball.”
“And judging from your rapturous expression, I don’t have to wonder at your answer.” Juliet’s eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t have to do with a certain stillroom and garden, does it?”
“Such doesn’t hurt, but in truth he’s always been first in my affections. I just wanted to be sure it was best for us both.” Loveday leaned over and lifted a meowing Hobbes onto her lap. “There’s only one thing the matter. He’s not fond of cats. They make him sneeze.”
“Poor fellow,” Juliet replied.If only my situation were as simple.
“I’d like to wed before Father leaves for England.” Loveday ran a hand over the cat’s silky back. “Speaking of gardens, let’s go out and walk in yours. ’Tis much too pretty to stay indoors.”
A quarter of an hour later, they did just that. Bella and Cole were gamboling down gravel paths ahead of them while a small army of gardeners sheared and rolled and cultivated the lawn and flora all around them.
“Look.” Loveday gestured to a bench where Father and Zipporah sat watching the swans upon the lake. “Lovebirds abound.”
With a small smile, Juliet returned her attention to Bella, who stood beneath a flowering cherry tree, reaching for a blossom on her tiptoes, while Cole made a clumsy effort to climb its trunk.
“Nay, Master Cole.” Loveday removed him from the danger as Juliet plucked some blossoms for Bella and tucked one into her dark hair.
They walked toward the central fountain, then paused when a footman appeared, announcing Loveday had a caller. Soon Niall arrived as her escort, leaving Juliet and the children alone. Might Loveday receive a proposal before the ball and not after?
Juliet looked toward the wilderness and deer park. Where exactly had Havilah been laid to rest? The twins were too young yet to visit with any understanding. But when they were older, she hoped to take them there and bring flowers, honoring their mother’s resting place.
Hand in hand with the twins, Juliet walked toward the summerhouse, lush foliage and blooms pressed against the glass. This was the very place the Royal Vale gardener had told her about months before. Never had she imagined she’d stand here and literally see it for herself.
“’Tis summer inside,” she told the wide-eyed twins as they entered the glassed-in space perfumed with oleander and camellias and exotic blooms she had no name for. Cole found the pineapples fruiting in large clay pots, returning Juliet’s thoughts to Arthur, the chimney sweep. Such a tragic chasm between him and her stepchildren.
“Mrs. Buchanan.” The summerhouse gardener gave a courtly little bow. “’Twould seem your hands are a wee bit full at present.” He chuckled good-naturedly as Cole began playing with a daisy grubber, while Bella only had eyes for stone lambs beneath an orange tree.
“Let’s go see the live lambs,” Juliet said with a smile, steering the twins outside again. “And leave Mr. McFee to his fine work.”
