“I am sorry,” he said softly.
“For what?” she asked sharply. “For being happy as I am? Notallwomen crave marriage above all else, you know.”
“That was not my meaning,” he said. “But I would not wish to intrude more deeply into your pain. My guess is that you keep it strictly to yourself, and we all need secrets.”
She gazed at him, dismayed. And could not prevent herself from lashing back.
“And doyouharbor secrets, Colonel Ware?” she asked.
“Very much so,” he said, surprising her. “One always hopes they will go away if one presses them deep enough.”
She stared at him. Regrets over some of the atrocities of war, perhaps? She would not ask. His next words seemed to confirm her suspicions, though.
“You believe I must have had an idyllic life here,” he said. “You are right about that. Until I was eighteen, that is.”
He had left home to take up his commission at that age.
She waited, wide-eyed, for him to continue, but he did not do so. Sarah had come dashing into the courtyard from the north wing, flushed and disheveled, several steps ahead of Owen.
“Winnie,” she cried as she came. “You ought to have come too. We wentriding, even though I am not suitably dressed. Owen said it did not matter. He put a sidesaddle on one of the horses—the sweetest mare I have ever seen. I did not feel at all unsafe on her back. Of course, Owen did hold on to a leading string so I need not fear having the horse gallop away with me. We rode partway along the carriage path to the lake, and the children spotted us from the hill and came dashing down to watch. They were ever so envious.”
“I fear I might be spending much of my time here for the next week or so giving riding lessons and leading rides,” Owen said, though it did not sound as iffearwas the appropriate word. He was smiling indulgently at Sarah, who was looking her age now that she was not concentrating upon being a grown-up lady.
And so any hope she had of spending time alone with Owen took another hit, Winifred thought. He was going to be busyentertaining the children. And serve her right again for wanting him all to herself.
—
There were times over the following week when Nicholas fervently wished Devlin and Gwyneth had not invited Joel Cunningham and his family to come at this particular time. Or that he himself had not suggested these two weeks for the visit of the Havilands. It could have waited until later in the summer, though everything at Ravenswood did tend to revolve around the summer fete.
He could not stop himself from making comparisons.
Therewasno comparison between the two relationships. Owen’s with Winnifred Cunningham was a close friendship, perhaps a romance too, perhaps not. His with Grace Haviland was more of a formal courtship, with the prescribed end more or less written in stone.
He made the comparisons anyway.
Owen and Miss Cunningham were having a marvelous time of it, playing vigorous, noisy games with the children. Stephanie was usually with them too. The children, like those everywhere, never seemed to run out of energy. Neither did the adults who chose to play with them. Mrs. Cunningham often joined in, as did her husband when he was not working. Gwyneth and Devlin as well.
But not Grace. Nicholas was strolling on the terrace with her and her mother one afternoon when the older children were involved in a vigorous game of ball with Owen and Winifred. Stephanie had drawn Awen and Susan and Emma and Samuel apart to one side of the lawn to play a game that involved holding hands and chanting while they moved around in a circle until, at the end, theyall fell down with a collective shriek. Owen called for Nicholas to come and join his team, which seemed to consist of a minority of one as everyone else was firing the ball at him. Stephanie invited Grace to join the circle game.
Nicholas grinned. “Rescue is at hand, Owen,” he called, and stepped onto the grass. “Brothers united.” He turned to smile at Grace.
But she had not moved. “Not today, Lady Stephanie,” she said. “I am wearing the wrong dress, and my shoes are unsuitable.”
“We will go inside away from all the noise,” Mrs. Haviland said quietly, probably intending to be heard only by her daughter. But Nicholas heard too.
He hesitated for a moment but then stripped off his coat and strode onto the battleground to cheers from some of the children even though he was about to be their adversary. He proceeded to have a grand time.
On another day most of the children dashed off into the wooded area that bordered the river west of the meadow for a game of hide-and-seek. Owen and Winifred and Stephanie went with them. Gwyneth and Mrs. Cunningham would have gone too, but they were expecting Lady Rhys.
“Come too, Nick and Miss Haviland?” Owen called.
“Delighted,” Nicholas said. “Grace?”
“It would be impolite of me not to be here for Lady Rhys’s visit,” she said.
So Nicholas went without her.
He invited her one morning to join a ride with two of the children who had proved they were safe on quiet mounts without his having to walk alongside making sure they did not slide off. He knew that Grace was an excellent horsewoman and thought shemight enjoy the exercise, though it would not move at a pace to which she was accustomed. She said no. She had promised to accompany her mama and Lady Stratton to the shop in the village.
