“I know. Try, though.”
Bridget wrinkled her nose, thinking. “I suppose I might fall over a loose cobblestone.”
“Reasonable,” Lewis said. “What else?”
“I might…” She trailed off, considering. “I suppose there might be a carriage accident.”
“Do you find that very likely?”
“Not especially. I fear that I am not very good at this. I do not often imagine that misfortune will befall me.”
“Many people do not. That is where my grandmother is different. She worries to excess,” Lewis explained. “She would look at this same street and imagine every misfortune that might occur and many that could not possibly transpire, and those fears would haunt her endlessly. The poor woman is a prisoner to her thoughts, unable to do anything except linger on them repeatedly.”
Bridget inhaled sharply. “How horrid!” she exclaimed. “To not even…to not even enjoy a day as beautiful as this one without being frightened!”
“Yes,” Lewis replied grimly. “And yet she cannot.”
“She must be so, so lonely,” Bridget murmured. “So frightened all the time.”
“She is,” Lewis agreed. “But I think that you might be good for her. She likes you.”
“I am surprised to hear you admit that.”
He laughed wryly. “Well, I can understand why. The truth is that I have underestimated you, though. I shall not make that error again.”
Bridget smiled. “You are learning and changing, no matter how much you might wish to deny it.”
Lewis shook his head. “And deny it I shall.”
“I will persuade you to believe me,” Bridget said.
He chuckled. “We shall see, my wife. If anyone is capable of that, it will be you.”
CHAPTER 30
The weeks passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Bridget accompanied Lewis on his daily trips to visit his grandmother, and despite the odd tremor or anxious, darting look, the Dowager Duchess seemed to do well enough with the inclusion of Bridget in her life. Bridget, too, became increasingly comfortable with his grandmother. She practically sparkled, her eyes always bright and her voice pitched with delight when she spoke to his grandmother.
He should have been delighted, but Lewis found himself uneasy with this new development. Lewis could not decide precisely why it all made him feel as though there was a great hole in his chest, aching and ugly, but it did. Bridget was not supposed to meet his grandmother for some time, but she had forced her way into the woman’s life. Worse, things had not gone badly.
It made no sense.
“Oh! I love the flowers,” Bridget said. “And the vase is quite tasteful!”
Lewis, who had been lost in thought, snapped his head in his wife’s direction. “Flowers?”
While she and his grandmother had spoken to one another, as if they were old friends, he had completely lost the thread of the conversation.
“Yes,” Bridget said. “Evelyn has placed a new vase of flowers in the room. I had suggested it during our last visit.”
His grandmother and Bridget were already using one another’s Christian names. Lewis glanced at the vase, which he realized hadnotbeen there on previous visits. His eyes snapped to his grandmother who beamed at Bridget.
“Yes,” she said. “I do like them. They add some cheer to the room.”
Bridget nodded vigorously. “Would you consider having a small garden inside the townhouse? It occurs to me that you do well with small, steady changes. Plants change at a slow and steady pace, so perhaps a garden would help your delicate nerves.”
“A thoughtful solution.”
“Do you expect her to garden?” Lewis asked.
