“As you may have surmised, I have taken the lease of Humberton Hall, and wished to introduce myself to the neighborhood.” He gave a short bow and extended the bouquet he’d picked. “It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Lady Courtenay.”
Something odd flitted over her face as she took the flowers. Surprised, wistful, perhaps even regretful—it was gone before he could decipher it. “Thank you, sir,” she said, then paused. “Won’t you come in? I’ve already sent for tea.”
The Pomeranian followed at her heels into the drawing room. Richard had always preferred large dogs, like Hercule, but he had to admit this little one was charming as he bounded obediently onto a cushion obviously meant for him next to the sofa. Lady Courtenay arranged the flowers in a vase on the mantel, then seated herself on the sofa. Richard chose a chair opposite, where he had the best view of her.
“So.” She gave him a polite smile. “You’ve taken Humberton Hall. Are you pleased with it?”
“The house is a bit dreary, but that will be remedied soon enough. I like the situation very much.”
“The locals call it Tumbledown Hall,” she went on. “Is it? I’ve not seen it in a few years.”
He smiled. “Tumbledown? It is not so bad. Perhaps you will return my call and see for yourself.”
She gave him a sharp look, but a maid brought in a tray with tea, and that provided a few minutes of distraction as she poured for both of them and offered a slice of cake, which he declined.
“How quiet you must find this rustic corner of the world, after all you’ve seen.”
He shook his head. “I find it very beautiful here.”
“And yet you were away from it for so long.”
“Ah, yes.” He sipped his tea. “I left in the year Twelve, and expected to return within a year and a half. Bonaparte, unfortunately, did not respect this plan, and his... misadventures in Russia caused great turmoil. I was forced to travel ever eastward, returning by a southern route that took far longer than expected.”
“It’s no concern of mine what you decided to do!” She looked startled by the vehemence of her own statement and took a hasty sip of tea. “Of course, I am relieved you were unharmed by the wars.”
“On the contrary,” he said, pleased. “I am gratified that you noted my extended absence. I thought of you nearly every day of it.”
She didn’t look at him. Her eyes moved over the windows, the fireplace, the chandelier, the carpet. The dog came and sniffed at her skirt, but she didn’t seem to notice until the Pomeranian gave a little bark, and Lady Courtenay started so violently, she spilled tea into her saucer.
“Goodness. Louis, behave,” she scolded the dog, whose ears drooped before he went back to his cushion.
Richard said nothing as she appeared to wage some internal battle, taking a deep breath but then not speaking, turning her cup around on the saucer before setting it down, clasping and unclasping her hands. Finally, she seemed to reach a decision, and turned toward him.
“Sir Richard,” she began, “there is something I must address. You may have formed a... a false opinion of me.”
“Oh?” He also put aside his cup. “If so, I most heartily apologize.”
“No.” She gave an aggravated little shake of her head. “It was my fault. When we first met, years ago, I behaved... very unlike myself. It was scandalous, and presumptuous, and not at allmy usual manner. I understand why you might think otherwise, after our... second meeting, a fortnight ago. I had no thought of seeing anyone at the pond, I assure you.”
He nodded soberly. “I see. You believe I have come here today anticipating that you will once again invite me into your bed.”
She closed her eyes as a deep, mortified blush stained her cheeks.
He sat forward. “If that is the case, allow me to put your fears to rest. I have no such thought. I came here today purely to make your acquaintance—in full, this time. Yes, I was... charmed by you four years ago.”Bewitched, more like.“And I was elated to discover you lived so near the house I expected to take.”
Now her face was bright red. “I apologize profoundly?—”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied.
“I solemnly promise never to trespass on your property again.”
He smiled. “But I have come to invite you expressly to do so. You must make free of my pond as often as you desire.”
“Then it would not be trespassing,” she pointed out.
“And thenyouwould not continue to beg my pardon, and we would all be much happier.”
Finally she laughed, although she choked it back at once. Richard grinned. He liked her laugh, perhaps even more than he had four years ago. She sat back and regarded him more thoughtfully, a trace of smile still curving her lips. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
