His smile in response was warm, genuine, and wholly his own—not an echo of the man she’d lost, but something new and equally compelling. “I may have lost my aristocratic polish in Ireland, but I gained a certain clarity about people’s characters.”
“So, it seems,” she agreed, finding herself relaxing in his presence despite the lingering unease from her encounter with Lockwood. “It’s not an entirely unwelcome change.”
“No?” His eyes held a tentative hope that tugged at her heart.
“No,” she confirmed softly. “It isn’t.”
The orchestra struck up the opening notes of the final waltz, and Lucien offered his hand. “I believe you promised me this dance, Lady Courtney.”
As she placed her hand in his, Courtney was acutely aware of Lockwood watching them from across the room, his cold gazeassessing. Whatever game the baron was playing, whatever he thought he knew about Lucien’s past in Ireland, she would not allow him to use it to hurt Lucien or his daughter.
Some things were worth protecting, even when one’s own heart remained uncertain.
“So, I did, Lord Furoe,” she replied, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. “So, I did.”
Chapter Ten
The carriage rockedgently as it wound along the coastal road, and Courtney leaned forward to catch her first glimpse of Danvers Hall through the window. The Dorset countryside unfurled around them in a tapestry of emerald fields and wild hedgerows, the late summer light bathing everything in golden warmth. Beside her, Ava-Marie bounced in her seat, her small face alight with excitement.
“Are we nearly there, Lady Courtney? Will we see the sea?” The little girl had been asking variations of this question since they’d left London two days prior.
“Almost there, darling,” Courtney replied, smoothing a wayward curl from the child’s forehead. “If I remember correctly, yes, you can see the sea from the house. It sits on a cliff overlooking the water.”
As they crested the final hill, the hall and grounds came into view, and Courtney’s breath caught in her throat. Five years had done little to change its weathered stone facade, the ivy climbing its walls perhaps a bit more abundant, the gardens somewhat less tended. But it was still the place where she and Lucien had spent countless summer days, where she had first realized she was in love with him.
“Goodness, it’s bigger than our London house. It looks like a castle,” Ava-Marie said in awe, pressing her small nose against the glass.
“It’s so big you can get lost in it,” Courtney said. “There are meadows where you can run, and a path down to a small cove where we can swim when the weather is warm enough.”
“I love swimming,” Caitria said. “I shall swim everyday while we are here. I’ll teach Ava-Marie.”
Courtney wondered if that was Caitria’s way of saying Ave-Marie was hers to look after? Was she going to have a problem with the young woman where Ava-Marie was concerned? She couldn’t blame her. Caitria had been a mother to Ava-Marie.
“I’d forgotten how big their estate is,” Julian said. “I’m looking forward to riding and swimming with you, my love,” he said, picking up his wife’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“Thank you both for coming with me.”
“What are big brothers for but to ensure my sister is chaperoned properly?”
Serena laughed at Courtney’s stricken look. “Not too properly, I suspect Courtney is hoping.”
Her brother didn’t reply as Courtney’s face heated. She turned to look out the window.
A memory washed over her unbidden. Lucien pulling her by the hand down that same path, both of them laughing as they raced toward the water. She had been wearing her oldest dress, one she didn’t mind ruining with salt water, and he had rolled up his trousers to wade into the surf beside her. They’d been so carefree and innocent then, before his departure for Ireland, before the years of believing him dead.
“Papa says there are ponies,” Ava-Marie said, her green eyes, so like Lucien’s, wide with anticipation. “He promised I could learn to ride.”
“Your father loves horses,” Courtney replied, grateful for the distraction from her memories. “He taught me to ride properly, you know. When I was younger, I was terribly afraid of falling.”
“Were you?” Ava-Marie looked skeptical, as though she couldn’t imagine the composed Lady Courtney being afraid of anything.
“I was,” Courtney admitted with a smile. “But your father was very patient. He chose the gentlest mare in the stables and walked beside me for hours until I felt confident enough to ride alone.”
What she didn’t share was how those lessons had led to long rides across the estate, galloping side by side over open fields, stopping to picnic by the stream that marked the estate’s eastern boundary. How Lucien had taught her to jump fences, his pride in her accomplishments warming her from within. How he had stolen kisses from her for the first time after one such ride, both of them windswept and exhilarated.
The carriage began its descent toward the hall, and Courtney caught sight of two figures waiting at the entrance. Her heart sped up at the sight of Lucien and she also spied Mr. Roberts, the new estate manager whom Lord Wolfarth had recommended after Lucien’s father had been forced to dismiss the previous one. Her heart quickened at the sight of Lucien, still unaccustomed to the miracle of his return despite the weeks that had passed since the scandal at Farah’s ball had been resolved.
“Look! There’s Papa!” Ava-Marie cried, waving enthusiastically though the men couldn’t possibly see her through the carriage windows.
