I am deeply sorry Miss Baxton and I stole some of your precious candies. I went home and could not sleep from the guilt. And so, here you are. These should last you at least three days. Try not to overindulge.
Hannah
The bright smell of lemon wafted up to him as he opened the bag and popped one into his mouth. The flavor settled on his tongue as he let out a sigh, picking up Margaret’s letter.
I cannot wait to see you again.
He crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it to his desk as he strode to the door. But he did not stop at his room, nor his small library. He made his way to the front entrance, flinging the door open and nearly running across the lawn. He loosened his cravat even as the pond came into view. Once free of his necktie, Noah tossed it to the grass, and then his jacket, and then his shirt. One by one, his garments littered his path until he was stripped to his breeches and standing on the edge of the water. He took a running start, his bare feet pounding against the wooden boards of the small dock—and when he reached the end, he took a leap.
The water roared about his ears as he floated down into the crisp, cool deep. He let himself descend until his foot touched the bottom, then used his foot to push against it and propel himself to the surface. He broke free, gasping from the cold yet refreshing water, and shook his head.
Noah swam a few laps back and forth across the water. His muscles burned, but his need to do something to tire himself became overwhelming. So he swam until every part of him ached. The sun had dropped low on the horizon by the time he swam to the edge, ringing out his hair as he stepped onto the grass.
He sat down, flinging himself onto the grass and closing his eyes as his chest heaved.
Was he an imbecile? Had Margaret fooled him? What else had he not seen in their six months together?
He lay there, staring up at the sky. It was colored in reds and pinks and oranges, like a band of flames streaking across the heavens.
And then Hannah came into his mind. The girl with hair like fire. His friend and confidant. A safe place to tell his fears and insecurities.
Noah sat up with a groan, his muscles tight and sore. He collected his clothing as he trudged back to the dower house, tucking the items beneath his arm as he went. Poor Egerton would not be pleased with the state of Noah’s rumpled clothing upon his return. He tried to shake out his jacket and lay it neatly over his arm in an attempt to save the older man some trouble.
Noah was making his way to his bedroom to change when he paused at his study door. The last light of day peered through the windows and landed in a narrow slit across his desk, highlighting the lemon drops from Hannah and letters from Margaret.
I cannot imagine someone having such a personal relationship and then doing what she did to you.
Noah took measured steps to his desk, his eyes never leaving the letters. He hadn’t thought much of what Hannah had said before, but she had been there when Margaret refused him. She had heard the words Margaret had said.
Before he could overthink his actions, he snatched a candle from the mantel, then strode to the kitchen to light it. When he returned to his study, he took the crumpled letter from his desk, knelt beside the unlit fireplace, and placed it on the cold stone. The flames on the candle danced, and Noah brought it closer to the paper, tilting it forward until it licked the edges. It took a moment for the small fire to catch, but when it did, Noah watched as all the words Margaret had written to him went up in flame, until it dwindled to a speckling of ash.
Goodness, that felt good.
He stood and grabbed another letter, put it into the fireplace, lit it, and let it burn. And then another, and another, and another.
Until all the lies were gone.
Chapter 13
Hannahgazedupatthe gray sky, inwardly praying it would not rain. Every moment she had to herself was precious. Or, rather, every moment she had alone with friends. This was the third occasion Hannah spent time with Sarah—and she was an utter delight. They would laugh and smile until Hannah’s stomach ached, and whenever she had to leave, it was always with reluctance. Hannah could only hope that Sarah liked her as well. It was possible she was only being polite.
“You seem in much better spirits today,” Sarah said as they walked through the yard. It was what they did to avoid the prying ears of her mother. While kind and jovial, Mrs. Baxton had a bit of a penchant for gossip. And after her near misstep with Hannah and the bee, Hannah could not afford any more sensitive things being relayed to her mother.
Hannah nodded as she loosed her hold on Sarah’s arm. “Yes, my mood has greatly improved.”
“Did anything happen with Lord Noah?” Sarah giggled.
“No,” Hannah said, laughing despite the slight twinge in her stomach. Sarah was under the impression that there was something between the two of them. “Noah is only a friend.”
“You cannot hide anything from me.” Sarah grinned. “You are quite smitten. And why wouldn’t you be? Lord Noah is one of the most eligible bachelors in Warthford. And well beyond.”
“Then why do you yourself not seem interested?”
She gave a light shrug. “He and Miss Lewiston were assumed to be headed to the altar. And once she left, you two seemed to take up quite quickly.”
Hannah stopped and turned to her. “But it isn’t like that. Noah and I are not romantically involved.”
“And if he offered for you, would you say no?” Sarah’s brow arched with amusement.
