Rubbing a hand over his face, Garrett exhaled slowly. Of course. She’d experienced a devastating rejection earlier this summer, and his toying with her merely piled on to her insecurities. He thought to knock on her door to offer comfort, but reason told him this would surely backfire upon both of them.
The weeping, however, went on and on. It was mournful and oh, so pitiful.
Dragging himself from her door, Garrett entered his own chamber instead. He could not go into her room, could he? Surely her maid attended her?
Marcus had laid out his dressing gown and night shirt but thankfully was not awake to wait upon him in person. Relieved, Garrett tended to his own ablutions and climbed into bed. The barely audible crying tormented him mercilessly. He knew, though, that if he were to go to her room, were to attempt to comfort her and be discovered, there would likely be a great deal more cause to weep. And both of them would be crying then.
He wished the effects of the whiskey he’d consumed earlier hadn’t worn off. That would have at least allowed a semblance of sleep. Diving under the pillow in an attempt to block the pitiful sounds from next door, Garrett didn’t drift off until just before dawn.
WHEN GARRETT FINALLY…
When Garrett finally descended the next morning, the sun had long since risen, but his hosts and their guests had yet to vacate the morning room. The countess sat checking items off a list while the earl perused one of London’s broadsheets. Garrett had barely sat down with his plate when Lady Sheffield informed him she had planned a large garden party for that afternoon. Guests from all over had been invited. Glancing out the stately windows, Garrett caught glimpses of servants rushing about with flowers, baskets, and linens. Others busied themselves setting up chairs and tables on the lawn. For a moment, he wondered idly if anyone would notice if he were to duck out of the day’s entertainment. He would not, though. He had made the blasted decision to be amiable.
And there was this particular lady…
He turned away from the spectacle on the lawn and perused the faces at the table. Although most seats were occupied, Lady Natalie was absent. He refused to recognize the twinge he experienced as guilt or disappointment. He’d acted in her ownbest interest. Surely, someday she’d be grateful to him. And yet…his food now tasted little better than sawdust.
Just as Garrett thought he was going to have to make some sort of conversation, the clatter of a coach arriving outside halted most of the normal breakfast chatter.
If it had been a service vehicle, it would have driven around back. The ancient contraption could only mean additional guests were arriving. Garrett forced himself not to wince visibly. Although he’d been treated graciously thus far, he couldn’t help feeling wary.
Just then the Baroness of Riverton pushed her seat back and rose to her feet quickly. “Oh, it’s Penelope and Abigail! I am so glad to see they are arriving safely.”
Taking his time, the baron stood up beside his wife. Garrett had conversed briefly with Riverton yesterday. Although a quiet, henpecked man, he was a rather affable sort. “My apologies, Lady Ravensdale. You were aware the girls were coming, weren’t you?”
As dawning recollection caught up with the lady of the house, she rose as well. “Oh, yes, Lord Riverton, we discussed it yesterday. With this afternoon’s festivities, I forgot about the girls’ arrival.” Looking around, she added, “I had hoped Natalie would be present to welcome…” Catching a footman’s eye, she said, “Leo, would you please have Tinsdale fetch Lady Natalie?” She addressed the servant graciously. The Spencers were uncommon in the courtesy afforded to their servants. It was something Garrett was coming to appreciate about this unusual titled family.
The earl, at his wife’s nudging, gave up on his newspaper and with something of a scowl, excused himself from the table to welcome the new arrivals. Garrett remained seated and determined to finish drinking his coffee. As did Lady Sheffield beside him. They could watch the flurry of activity through the windows.
After observing the other breakfasters either leave to greet the arriving ladies, or perhaps to their own devices, Lady Sheffield turned her attention to Garrett. She had a curious gleam in her eyes and did not look to be uncomfortable in his presence this morning. He was grateful for this.
“I understand you have saved your mother’s paintings? It is true?” she asked.
Damned if anybody’s business remained private anymore. That being said, it wasn’t often anyone mentioned the late Countess of Hawthorne—if ever. “You had an acquaintance with my mother, Lady Sheffield?” he asked. He would not satisfy her curiosity immediately.
Obviously delighted, Lady Sheffield nodded. “We came out the same season. I was fortunate enough to have been invited to view her artwork at your grandparent’s townhouse that year.” She shook her head mournfully. “My brother, Arthur, attended with me. Shortly after the showing, your father swept her away to the country.Didyou manage to save her paintings? It would be such a shame if they perished along with yourdreadfulfather.”
What could he say to this? Whatcouldone say when a person referred to one’s father as dreadful? Even if said fatherwas, in fact, dreadful? “I did. They have been safely tucked away upstairs for a few years now.” And then, acknowledging her other statement, he continued, “My fatherwasa dreadful man. I knew they would be in peril if I left them in his care.” Reaching for the pot of coffee, he gestured to her cup. She lifted it, and he poured hot liquid to the rim before refilling his own. “I feared he might destroy the paintings out of spite. They were left specifically to me.”
“Your mother was a very sensitive lady, my lord. I never did fathom how her father could allow such a match.” A flash of sadness crossed her face, but she covered it. “Oh, dear me! Such a long time ago, but looking at you now, it feels as though itwere yesterday.” And then she smiled at him in a motherly sort of way, the wrinkles at her eyes creasing deeply. “Your mother did manage to produce a handsome son, though! And clever, too, I am discovering.”
Garrett stared at his coffee, a strange lump forming in his throat. God damn this emotion. “If you’d care to see the paintings, I’d be happy to show them to you. I must inspect the crates before travel anyhow. I plan on doing so tomorrow morning, if you’d care to take a peek.” He stared into the dark richness of his coffee, the warm cup cradled in his hands as he made the offer. He hadn’t yet looked at the paintings himself. Knowing the contents of the crates, he’d done his best to ignore them. He’d avoided them, in fact.
Lady Sheffield clasped her hands together in childish delight. “Oh, that would be delightful, and Lady Natalie has expressed an interest in them as well. If you wouldn’t mind, I will bring her along with me.”
Garrett studied her face for indications that she was matchmaking. “If she wishes, I am amenable.”
At that very moment, a tired and drawn Lady Natalie entered the room with a scowl. “If she wishes what?” she asked.
Oh, hell, the night had been worse on her than he’d thought.
Garrett stood and pulled out a chair for her gallantly. “I’ve invited Lady Sheffield to view the paintings left to me by my mother tomorrow morning. Would you care to join us?” He asked with as much charm as he could muster. He did not like seeing her so defeated. Especially when he was at fault. He would not take all the blame, however. He’d leave some of that to the Duke and Duchess of Cortland.
A spark of interest lit her eyes, along with a fleeting smile. “Oh, that would be lovely, thank you.” She followed her gratitude with a dainty little yawn. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
Garrett lifted the coffee pot and gestured to her cup. She held it out for him to fill and then added cream and sugar.Forgetting her manners, she relaxed her elbows on the table and took a deep sip of the hot brew.
Garrett studied her. Her eyes were neither red nor swollen. Her hair and dress were as pristine as ever. There was a tiredness to her face, however, no amount of dressing up could cover. As she drank the coffee, she appeared to relax.
