“Alas, we leave for London tomorrow. We intend to see out the rest of the season there.”
“London?” Louisa squealed, almost knocking over her chocolate. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Winston said.
He smiled at her, though his eyes remained on Lord Duskwood.
“You’ve been cooped up here too long. You should see Hyde Park and Vauxhall Gardens and…well, everything.”
Lord Duskwood’s expression tightened by a degree. “That’s sudden, Your Grace. You gave no hint you intended to decamp from Greystone when we spoke at the club.”
“It is sudden,” Winston agreed, “but our social obligations cannot wait. And I’ve been neglecting legal matters that need attention.”
He stirred his tea and looked across at Adeline. “You’ve no objection, I trust?”
Adeline kept her voice steady. “Of course not. London will do Louisa good.”
Lord Duskwood made a show of fastening his gloves. “Then I shan’t detain you from your preparations. I’ll wish you a safe journey.”
“Very kind,” Winston said.
His Lordship bowed to Adeline. “Miss Wilkinson.”
His glance lingered half a second longer than courtesy required.
“It was a pleasure, as always.”
“And to you,” she said, rising.
Louisa waved as he strode back to the stables, mounted and rode away. When the sound of hooves had faded, she turned to her father.
“Why didn’t you let him stay for breakfast? I like him.”
“He talks too much before noon,” Winston said. “And he comes too often. Besides, I did not bar him from breakfast.”
“You as well as barred him,” Louisa said. “But I enjoy his company. You’re only cross because he likes Adeline.”
“Louisa,” Adeline said quickly, “that’s quite enough.”
But Winston only raised an eyebrow at his daughter.
“You’re sharper than most grown men I know,” he said.
Louisa beamed and soon began to hum. The breakfast table was silent except for that noise. Adeline thought of the previous evening. Of Winston’s vulnerability before her.
Not the mere. That’s what he said, and there was such terror in his voice. I suppose because Louisa was sleepwalking towards it.
But something told Adeline there was more to it than that. The sound of his voice in that moment was that of a haunted man. She surreptitiously watched Winston over the edge of her teacup. Or tried to. Whenever her eyes flitted to his like a butterfly to a flower, she found him already looking at her. And at every contact, he turned away, firming his jaw and clearing his throat.
We cannot pretend we have been nothing to each other. That we have not frolicked in a hayloft. Shared each other’s bodies.
“Why are you red in the face, Miss Wilkinson?” Louisa said. “It is not that warm today.”
Adeline choked on her tea. “The tea is hot, and it warms me from the inside,” she said as Winston offered her a handkerchief.
She dabbed spots of tea from her chin, meeting his gaze.
“Oh, look! Butterflies!” Louisa said, standing and craning her neck to follow the progress of a pair of fluttering marsh whites that gamboled through the air overhead.
