A footman held out a chair and Charlotte took a seat as Victor resumed his.
Thank goodness she had not allowed herself to be delayed further, or her husband may question her walks and their duration.
She hadn’t exactly lied to him because she did walk to the mill and back. Victor just did not need to know her destination.
Would she need to rise even earlier? Would Melcombe be willing to meet her earlier?
Was it even necessary that he did? She was the one who chose the colors for the wool, gave instructions on how to mix the dyes, and designed patterns for the weavers. Melcombe rarely objected to her suggestions.
It was something that she must think on.
“Perhaps you could take me around the estate later, since you enjoy walking,” Victor offered.
“I would be happy to. There have been improvements since you were here last.” She was proud of the house outside as well as the inside, and she wanted to prove to Victor that it hadn’t been a mistake leaving her here for four years.
A footman placed a cup of tea before her.
“Are you not going to eat this morning?” he questioned, just as he had yesterday.
“I usually break my fast earlier, before I walk, but I can wait and eat with you,” she offered. It would be no hardship to put off the meal longer.
“Or I could rise early with you so as not to disturb your schedule,” he offered.
Goodness, that would ruin everything.
“That is not necessary, Victor,” she offered sweetly. “I do not mind eating after I have walked.”
He studied her for a moment, and she waited for him to press the issue, but he did not, for which she was grateful. There was too much she needed to accomplish without him being the wiser and while he still slept.
Charlotte took a deep breath and then a sip of the tea as she glanced at the newssheets. The papers lay at his elbow. She missed reading the news from London and hadn’t gotten a chance yesterday. It appeared she wouldn’t today either. Perhaps later in the day, after Victor had vacated the breakfast room.
Victor glanced at her, and then at the papers and back again. Picking them up, he handed the stack to her.
“Have you read them all?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her.
Disappointment stabbed at her. Charlotte took the papers and set them aside. It would be very rude to read while he was still at the table. She lifted her teacup to her lips again and considered her next words, except, she had nothing to say.
This was very odd. In the four years that Victor had been away, she had never been at a loss for words when writing to him. Sometimes she wrote sheets and sheets of news of her life and Willanton, omitting anything that might cause him to travel here. She was certain that much of what she had conveyed to him was quite boring and inconsequential given the type of life he lived in London, but she had wanted to assure him that all was well and that there was no reason for him to ever visit.
His letters had been equally long, and she read each one more than once.
The worlds they lived in were quite different and she was beginning to wonder if they could ever possibly suit.
“Itwillnotbotherme if you wish to read the newssheets,” he offered.
A lovely blush formed on her cheeks. “No. I will read them later.”
“If I were in London and the news was new, I would be reading the papers.” If she were reading, he’d have more of an opportunity to study her.
He’d been suspicious when she was gone again this morning, but taking a walk was rather innocent. He was simply suspicious of everything right now.
Charlotte bit her bottom lip and placed her cup in the saucer. “Are you certain that you do not mind?” she asked after a moment.
“No,” he assured her with a smile.
As he expected, Charlotte turned to the society pages first. It was what his mother and sister always read, and he suspected that it was the same for all females.
