He hurried to the sideboard, and after a moment’s deliberation, took only two sausages.
As she set down her cup, Honoria’s brows drew down. “Are you ill, Colin? I had the cook prepare extra sausage.”
“Simply not very hungry this morning.” His stomach rumbled, announcing his lie.
Avoiding any further interrogation from his sister, he ate his meager breakfast as quickly but neatly as possible. Anne, for her part, sipped at what must surely by then have been an empty cup.
Once finished, he escorted Anne outside the house, suggesting they stroll in the garden.
Fragrant buds scented the air, and pride swelled that he’d chosen their path wisely.
“I love these flowers.” She stopped before the pink roses.
“If memory serves, you found one lying on the hill by the lake the other day. An odd place to find such a bloom.”
Pink surfaced on her cheeks.
He returned his gaze to the path before them, ashamed of the wicked satisfaction her embarrassment brought him. “I believe we have roses at Blackthorne Manor, but they remain in the flower beds, or when cut, in vases.”
Apparently, the satisfaction outweighed the shame.
She jerked her hand from his arm. “You know very well I made that up about the rose, and the grass stains on my gown were from falling on the steep incline.”
“I do. But I also understand the need to save face and present a composed image. I only hope we can be honest with each other going forward.”
Long moments passed as they ambled side-by-side along the flower beds. Silence took up residence between them, uninvited and stubborn, and he prayed it wasn’t a sign of trials yet to come.
“Your home is called Blackthorne Manor?”
He startled at her question. But at least she had broken the charged silence hovering over them. “It is.Blackthorne isn’t as grand as Overton House, but I hope you will be comfortable there.”
“Overton House. That’s an interesting name. Is it your father’s estate?”
Pleased she had slipped her hand back onto his arm, he nodded. “About five miles to the north of Blackthorne. Close enough to make calls but far enough for privacy. It will be ours someday.”
When they’d reached the end of the flower garden, Colin led her toward a hedge maze. “Come.” He gave a gentle tug to her hand. “There’s a small observatory in the middle. See it just peeking above the tops of the hedges?” He pointed to a covered structure.
Her eyes lit with excitement, and she lifted her skirts, then raced forward without him. “I’ll beat you to the center.”
His plan to get her alone and away from prying eyes fell apart, and for a moment he stood watching as she disappeared around the corner of the maze.
Not to be outdone, he raced after her, with a slight advantage. Intrigued by the hedge maze when Honoria first married Burwood, he had memorized each turn and dead end, and although Anne had also been a guest at the estate, Colin hoped she hadn’t explored the labyrinth too closely.
Precisely as he hoped, he caught up with her as she turned a corner leading nowhere. She pulled up short against the wall of shrubbery, then spun toward him.
Flushed from exertion and out of breath, she pressed a hand to her midriff.
A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he took a step toward her. “I believe I have you cornered, and unlike yesterday, the situation is in my control.”
Her eyes widened, and she tried to dart around him, but he easily blocked the narrow passage. “I’ve been wondering all morning about those freckles on the bridge of your nose.”
She stepped back toward the hedges. “My . . . my freckles?”
“Um-hmm. There is one in particular that fascinates me.” With one long stride, he bridged the gap. “For example, I have the most ridiculous desire to kiss it.”
With another step back, she met the unmoving hedge.
“As I said, cornered.” Taking another long step, he closed the distance. “Now, about those freckles.”
