“I must admit, you seem a trifle distracted this afternoon, Miss Mossant.” The lieutenant’s kindly words pricked her conscience yet again.
She turned to look up at him. The man’s appearance was unique in that she’d never seen such bright orange hair on a person before. “Please forgive me, sir.” He also had brilliant blue eyes and an easy smile. An abundance of freckles blended in with his weathered complexion. “I haven’t slept well,” she added, which was surprisingly true.
He patted her hand where it sat on his arm. “Perhaps the walk today can rectify that. I’ve always found the outdoors a good antidote to sleeplessness.”
“Do you experience difficulties sleeping?” A mild curiosity surprised her.
For the first time since meeting him, she saw something other than kind pleasantness cross his features. Ah, the haunted look of a man who’d been to war. This time, she patted his arm comfortingly.
“On occasion,” he said.
Perhaps Rhoda had overlooked this gentleman too easily as a prospective husband for Emily. She needed to reconsider.
Certain misgivings had formed at the thought of Emily marrying Lord Carlisle, bearing his children. Unease settled in her gut. She didn’t wish to see Justin White with Emily but didn’t examine too closely why.
She set out to discover more about the military man while they meandered through the garden. Yes, perhaps the red-haired man would be a better match indeed.
Throughout dinner, Rhoda attempted to ease the awkwardness that had been stirred up earlier that day. She asked about Little Finn and Lady Harriette but even so, a tension had developed between Cecily and herself.
She hated it. She hated that her miserable outlook on life affected the friendships she held dearer than anything else in the world.
When the ladies removed themselves to the large drawing room, Rhoda drew Cecily aside, so the others could go before them. After they’d passed, the two strolled at a more leisurely pace.
“I’m sorry. I hate when we are out of sorts. I’m consumed with worry over—” She shook her head, utterly overwhelmed. She didn’t even know what to call all of it. “Can you forgive me?” Rhoda genuinely needed to repair the rift that had arisen between them.
Cecily nodded, but her expression held concern. “I hate being at odds with you as well. I feel as though I’ve been away from all of you for so long that we no longer truly know one another.” She glanced down at her fingernails. “You didn’t return any of my letters.”
More guilt. “I’m sorry.” Rhoda didn’t know what else she could say. She’d so wanted to confide her worries and fears to Cecily but dared not. “I’ll do better in the future. It’s just that…”
Cecily sighed. “I know. Well, I don’t really know, but I can only imagine some of what you went through with St. John’s death. I just wish you’d talk to all of us about it. About your feelings. We love you, you know. Nothing you’ve done can ever change that.” And then she stopped and took Rhoda in her arms. “Don’t shut us out,” she whispered.
Rhoda squeezed Cecily tightly, doing her best to hold back tears. “I’m trying not to. And I love all of you, too. I’ll do better with my correspondence in the future. I promise.”
Both girls held on for a few more moments before Cecily stepped back and dabbed at her lashes. “I have a better idea than that. Why don’t you return with Stephen and me to Southampton? If you’re with us, you won’t need to deal with all of this betting and whatnot in London. You won’t have to do anything rash.”
Rhoda hadn’t considered simply not returning to London. But even as she felt tempted, the thought of her two younger sisters and mother came to mind. She couldn’t allow them to be exposed to the scandal alone. Not after she’d run away.
And her mother was going to insist upon returning to London once the house party wrapped up.
“Coleus, Hollyhock, and your mother are welcome as well,” Cecily added, as though reading her mind.
Only her mother would never abide missing the entire Season.
“I’ll think about it.” Rhoda offered in light of their new understanding.
The gentlemen didn’t spend much time over port, instead choosing to join the ladies after less than half an hour. When they strolled in, Coleus began plucking away at the pianoforte, causing Sophia to stand up and suggest, “Let’s play Sardines!”
Rhoda wasn’t really in the mood for games, but it wouldn’t be fair for her to not show any enthusiasm. After all, she’d helped Sophia cook this scheme up.
Emily played Sardines unusually well, and if she could get a particular gentleman alone for a short while, in a confined space, hope was that she could bring him closer to some sort of an offer.
The plan had been for her to get Lord Carlisle alone.
But would Emily really do it? Could she?
Did Rhoda want her to?
Truth be told… She did not.
