“You must not blame Winnie,” Walter said desperately.
“Who else should I blame? She is a wicked, wicked woman. I am sorry I ever met her!” He was shouting now.
Walter again raised his hands. “No, no, I assure you. There is nothing amiss here. Do not act hastily, sir, I implore you.”
“Step aside, sir! Winifred, your father’s book room, immediately.Winifred!You are not attending!”
It was true. Winnie was standing as still as a statue, gazing into space with a shocked expression on her face. She appeared quite oblivious of him as he yelled at her, ordering her to be hauled before her father like a misbehaving child. Then he stomped away.
And still Winnie had not moved. Some part of Walter wanted only to take her in his arms, to hold her… so help him, to kiss her. He wanted so badly to kiss her, to feel her sweet lips under his, her body pressed against him, yielding to him… but he must not. If there was any chance of recovering the situation with Lomax, he must take it. He could not forgive himself if he had destroyed her one opportunity for happiness.
“Winnie?” he said gently. “We must follow him… try to make him understand. Your father will listen, I am sure. We can still salvage your betrothal, if we hurry. Will you come?”
She said nothing, merely gazing at him unseeingly, lost in some world of her own where he could not reach her.
“Winnie?”
She neither moved nor spoke, so he reached for her hand. The instant his fingers met hers, she jumped, as if stung, but he kept hold of her.
“We must go and talk to your father. Come now.”
Unresisting, she let him lead her away, through the woods, past the orchard and lily pool, through the flower gardens and into the house. He heard voices at once, Lomax’s angry and raised, together with the lower murmur of Sir Hubert. The book room door was open, and Walter drew Winnie inside, pushing her gently forward with one hand on her back.
“Ah, Atherton!” Sir Hubert said with obvious relief. “I am sure you can clear this up very quickly. Lomax thinks you and Winnie were kissing, but that cannot be right, I am sure.”
“No, indeed. He is quite mistaken.”
“I know what I saw,” Lomax said, lifting his chin and glaring at Walter.
“There was no kiss,” Walter said firmly. At least he could say so in absolute truth, even if they were only moments away from doing so. “We were… The thing is, Lomax, Winnie and I are old friends… like brother and sister, you might say, so she confides in me. She was… concerned about something that had happened between you, and I was reassuring her that… that everything would be fine once you are married. I was merely smoothing the way for you, if you like.”
“Smoothing the way,” Lomax spat. “What nonsense! You were seducing her… or she was seducing you, more likely. She is a harlot!”
“Now, I will not have my daughter spoken of in such terms,” Sir Hubert said, frowning. “Whatever happened, I am sure there was nothing in it. I can vouch for what Atherton has said… they are exactly like brother and sister. There has never been anything at all romantic between them. I am sure you have nothing to worry about, Lomax.”
“I heard raised voices. What has happened?” Lady Strong’s soft, feminine tones were a welcome addition to the charged atmosphere in the book room.
“Your daughter has behaved with wanton impropriety,” Lomax said, rounding on her. “I had hoped that she had been correctly raised to be a lady, but I see now that it is not so. She is a very wicked girl and I want nothing more to do with her.”
He made at once for the door. Lady Strong cried out distressfully, and grabbed his arm.
“No, sir, no! I am sure there is some mistake. Sir Hubert, help me to convince him. You must not go, sir, indeed you must not! Do not leave poor Winnie broken-hearted. Pray let us talk about this.”
He pushed roughly passed her into the hall, while she, still clinging to his arm, and Sir Hubert on his other side, followed. Walter heard Lomax order his carriage, and then the three voices rumbled on, the Strongs trying to urge him back into the book room and Lomax, in tones loud enough to be heard all over the house, insisting that Winnie was beyond redemption and how could he possibly marry such an evil woman?
“Winnie?” Walter said softly. She had not moved an inch, had not spoken, had not changed her expression. “I am sure he will come back. He will not leave. He loves you, so he will come back.”
But she said nothing.
More voices were heard in the hall… Lily, he thought, and Hebe. Then the carriage crunching over the gravel and pulling up. More pleading voices and angry responses. The carriage door slammed, and the horses started forward. The sound of the carriage grew faint and then disappeared altogether.
Silence.
“Well, he has gone,” Sir Hubert said tiredly, as they came back into the book room. “A little excessive before breakfast, if you ask me.”
“How can you even think about breakfast!” Lady Strong wailed, on the edge of hysteria. “Winnie is ruined, and whatever is to become of her now?”
“Winnie?” Walter said again. He took her hand again, gently stroking the back of it with one thumb, and again she jolted into awareness.
