Harriet felt a flash of irritation. There he was again, behind his wall, the sardonic, distant Lord Vane she had always known. As though the man who had spoken to her in the darkness, who had admitted to regrets and sleepless nights, had never existed at all.
"As you wish," she said coolly. "I shall endeavour to forget the entire conversation."
"That would be best."
They ate in silence after that, the easy rapport of the previous night replaced by something stiff and formal. Harriet told herself this was preferable as this was the relationship she knew how to navigate.
But some small part of her, a part she refused to acknowledge mourned the loss of whatever had begun to grow between them in the dark.
***
The journey to Fordshire Park took longer than expected.
The roads, despite the innkeeper's optimism, were in deplorable condition. Sebastian's carriage, larger and better sprung than Harriet's hired vehicle, handled the ruts and puddles with reasonable grace, but progress was still agonisingly slow. They had agreed, without discussion that Harriet would travel in Sebastian’s carriage while her hired conveyance followed behind but this arrangement meant spending several hours in close proximity with nothing to do but stare out the window and pretend the other person didn't exist.
It was, Harriet thought, going to be a very long journey.
For the first hour, they maintained their silence. Harriet watched the countryside roll past,green fields turning to brown mud, bare trees stark against the grey sky and tried not to thinkabout how aware she was of Sebastian's presence across from her. He had a newspaper, produced from somewhere, and was ostensibly reading it, though she noticed that the pages turned with suspicious regularity.
"You're not actually reading that," she said finally, breaking the silence more out of boredom than any desire for conversation.
Sebastian looked up. "I beg your pardon?"
"The newspaper. You've turned three pages in the last minute. Either you're the fastest reader in England, or you're using it as a shield."
"A shield against what?"
"Against having to speak to me, I imagine."
Sebastian folded the paper with deliberate care and set it aside. "Would you prefer that I speak to you?"
"I would prefer not to spend the next three hours in suffocating silence. But if that is the alternative you favour, I shall endeavour to accommodate."
"Always so accommodating, Lady Harriet."
"I try."
Something flickered across his face, amusement, perhaps, or exasperation. It was difficult to tell with Sebastian. He had perfected the art of revealing nothing while appearing to reveal everything.
"Very well," he said. "What shall we discuss?"
"You might tell me about these business matters with my father's solicitor. You were rather vague on the subject last night."
"I was vague because I don't know the details myself. Thornton's letter mentioned only that my presence was required to resolve some outstanding matters related to your brother's estate."
"Richard's estate?" Harriet frowned. "What could that possibly have to do with you?"
"I don't know. That's rather the point of making this journey…to find out."
"But you must have some idea. You were Richard's closest friend. If there were matters left unresolved…"
"There are always matters left unresolved when someone dies young." Sebastian's voice had gone flat. "That's rather the tragedy of it. All the things left unsaid, undone, unfinished."
Harriet fell silent. She had meant to press him further, but something in his tone made her hesitate. He was not, she realised, being deliberately evasive. He genuinely didn't know what awaited them at Fordshire Park, and the uncertainty was bothering him more than he wanted to admit.
"Richard trusted you," she said quietly. "Whatever this is, I'm certain he would have wanted you involved."
Sebastian looked at her, and for just a moment, his mask slipped. She saw surprise there, and something else, something that might have been gratitude, quickly suppressed.
