“Thank you,” she said gently. “That will be all.”
The maids curtsied again and moved on with their tasks. Hazel stood for another moment in the doorway, staring at the empty table as if Greyson might somehow materialize out of the sunlight. Of course, he did not.
The footman stepped forward, bowing politely. “Your Grace… shall I bring breakfast? There is fresh bread from the ovens this morning.”
Hazel let out a soft breath, smoothing her skirts. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I might as well have some.” She lifted a hand with a small, helpless gesture. “Seeing I am in no rush anywhere.”
The footman hid a smile, rather politely, but Hazel caught it.
I must be more obvious than I meant to be.
She took her place at the table, folding her napkin over her lap. The footman set down a plate with warm bread, fruit, and a small pot of tea. Hazel poured herself a cup and tried to focus on the quiet comfort of breakfast. The first bite of bread had barely reached her lips when the butler appeared at the doorway.
“Your Grace,” he announced with a touch of apology, “you have visitors.”
Hazel blinked. “Visitors?”
The butler stepped aside.
Patience and Chastity swept in like spring breezes, wearing bonnets and enthusiasm.
“Hazel!”
“There you are!”
Hazel nearly dropped her teacup. “Girls? Again?”
Chastity swept forward with dramatic purpose. “Yes, again. We require your assistance today.”
Patience nodded, curls bouncing. “Desperately.”
Hazel blinked. “With what, exactly?”
Chastity clasped her hands as though delivering tragic news. “I must have a new bonnet. My current one is simplyunacceptablefor the spring promenade.”
“And,” Patience added, “Chastity needs new fabric for a gown. Something elegant. Something breathtaking. Something that will make certain gentlemen faint.”
Chastity swatted her sister. “Not faint, just take notice.”
Hazel set her teacup down carefully. “Girls…”
Patience leaned in. “Will you come with us, Hazel? Please?”
“Yes,” Chastity added, “we value your advice very much. Why, without it, we’d end up dressed like a pair of confused tulips.”
Hazel couldn’t help but chuckle.
“That is not at all what we agreed to say,” Patience muttered.
Hazel opened her mouth to decline gently, but decline all the same. She wanted to stay home today, to stay near the front hall, near the study, anywhere she might hear the door open. Her fingers brushed unconsciously against the sleeve of her gown, the arm that had heldhisbook all night next to her in bed. A warm ache rose in her chest.
She wanted to see him, because she had so much to tell him, but the maids said he’d gone into town as well as to his mother's. He had affairs to settle, duties and responsibilities to take care of. He could be gone for hours, maybe even more.
Chastity drew closer, tugging Hazel’s arm. “We promise it will be enjoyable.”
Patience clasped Hazel’s other hand. “Please? We’ll even let you choose the muffin flavors afterward.”
Hazel looked between their hopeful faces, and her resolve softened. Greyson was unlikely to return any time soon. And even if he did, she would come home eventually. And perhaps it would be easier to bear her own impatience if she filled the hours with cheerful company rather than pacing hallways like a lovesick heroine in a gothic novel.
