“Nonsense.”
Loretta dropped her lashes, closing her eyes against his protest. Even if he thought he loved her now. He did not know her. He would leave England again and remember her only as the pathetic duchess she’d become. A woman who’d failed at love time and time again.
* * *
The next morning,as the sun barely crept above the horizon, Loretta Brookes, Duchess of Prescott, stood and watched out her window as Mr. Thomas Findlay mounted his horse. She presumed his luggage and valet would follow him shortly.
Or perhaps they’d departed earlier.
Frost hung in the air, hovering over the dormant meadows, but most of the snow from earlier had melted.
He’d miss spending Christmas, only five days away, with his daughter and grandson, presumably because of her. Because she’d been a coward.
He’d not told her goodbye. When she’d finally mustered the courage to push his arms from around her, he’d gone silent for all of a minute.
He’d not pushed for her love.
Her heart flinched, feeling nearly as cold as the window pane.
What had she done?
Holidays can be rough
He’d awakened something inside of her. And although she’d wanted to ask his daughter of his destination, or why he’d chosen to make an early departure, she’d felt too foolish to do so.
Instead, she would assist Sophia in planning all the upcoming festivities. With just two days until Christmas, Loretta had promised to meet Sophia to go over the meals and decorations that would be put out on the following day, on Christmas Eve. It was considered bad luck to put them up sooner, and the Prescott family did not need any more bad luck.
She wrapped her scarf twice around her neck and embarked on the brisk walk to the manor. She ignored the section of the path she’d taken with Thomas just over one week ago, choosing a slightly longer route instead, and concentrated upon the task ahead of her today.
The elaborate family dinner would follow Christmas Eve services. Although most gentry families preferred venison, Prescott had favored turkey. Loretta wondered if she ought to mention this to Sophia. Did it even matter anymore?
They had not celebrated last year.
Sophia had scheduled an outing for tomorrow morning, on Christmas Eve. They were all to go in search of evergreens and holly and rosemary. Surely, the babies were too young to participate.
All the young people would don their warmest coats and hats and mittens for the brief outing. It was a shame the snow had mostly melted, or they could have made gone sledding down the hills or ice skating on the pond.
They would bring greenery back and hang bows and garlands throughout the house. Wassail must be prepared for the carolers who would surely come visiting.
An even larger party would be held on Christmas night. Many neighbors and villagers would be invited.
She wondered what Thomas would be doing on that magical night. Had he already made plans to sail away? If he did, she hoped the weather was not too violent.
A pang of some unwanted emotion washed through her.
He ought to have stayed. A part of her wanted to run and hide from him, but the other part could never put him far from her mind.
Loretta increased her pace when a frigid gust of air penetrated the material of her long woolen coat.
Why had she pushed him away?
With the death of her husband and oldest son, and Harold’s disappearance, she’d experienced tremendous change over the past eighteen months.
But Thomas.
His companionship had not been tragic. It had been… comforting. His manners, his habits, they were all so very different from hers. Was different such a horrible thing?
She liked the affection he’d shown her. Even now, she craved his touch!
