“Five Mile House!I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… running a coaching inn, being a landlady!I’d wager you even enjoy the chores.”
“That is preposterous,” Gemma said firmly.“No one could enjoy laundry day.”
“Perhaps not laundry day,” allowed Lucy, who had done her own stints at the washtub.“But everything else…I thought you’d jump at the opportunity to cease working so hard on this place.”
“Perhaps I would have, once.”Gemma smoothed her skirts and sat in the chair to allow Lucy to put up her hair.
Lucy came over and began to plait the heavy mass into several thick braids to coil at the nape of Gemma’s neck.“It’s strange.Life here is so very different to life in London.”
“I know what you mean.I thought I should die of boredom when we first arrived, and that I would miss my friends so much—but there’s no time for being bored when there’s so much to be done, and after all, it’s hardly as though there’s less fascinating tittle tattle in a small town than there was in London.People here know absolutely everything about one another!And now that we’re corresponding, I am forced to admit that my London friends aren’t truthfully very interesting when one gets right down to it.”
Gemma snorted.“Nor mine.Endless rounds of drinking, debauchery, losing money at cards, racing carriages at breakneck speeds and betting on brawls.But your life in London when we go back needn’t be like that, Luce.You deserve a debut, and a Season, and a chance to?—”
“To exhibit myself on the Marriage Mart like Mr.Cartwright’s prizewinning calf?”Lucy made a face.“I suppose.”
“To find someone who will give you the future you deserve,” Gemma corrected.“And allow you to take your proper place in society.”
“Is that how your debut worked out?”Lucy gave her an arch look in the cheval glass.
“No, and I want better for you,” Gemma said firmly.“You deserve to find happiness.”
Lucy pushed in one last hairpin and patted the top of Gemma’s head.“I’m not convinced that a London season is the path to happiness, but…you deserve to be happy too, you know.”
“I will be,” Gemma promised with a bright smile.“As soon as I bring Lord Stonehaven up to scratch and get one of his precious rocks on my finger!”
An hour later, long after Lucy had run down to the courtyard to greet the mail coach, Gemma was still thinking about that conversation as Lord Stonehaven held her hand to help her over a fallen log in the old growth forest near Kissington Manor.
They were both wearing gloves, as was proper.Perhaps that was the reason his touch felt as impersonal as brushing against a stranger in the street.
But Lord Stonehaven wasn’t a stranger.He was a man she was coming to know as kind, thoughtful, serious about his studies yet able to laugh at himself.
She liked his face; it was quite a nice face.He was tall and had good shoulders, stronger and less stooped than one might expect of a scholar.He had all his own hair and teeth.
So why couldn’t she feel anything when he touched her?Why couldn’t she fall in love with him?
Falling in love was hardly a prerequisite for marriage, she reminded herself as she tripped over an exposed tree root and Lord Stonehaven steadied her.Despite what her father had believed.It had never really formed a part of Gemma’s plans.She only knew that the closer she drew to achieving her goals, the more guilty she felt for using this gentleman for her own ends.
She stumbled over yet another patch of uneven ground and cursed silently, vowing to pay more attention to her surroundings before she ended up with a broken ankle.Perspiration trickled down the back of her neck; her corset chafed where she was growing damp and overheated under the many layers of clothing ladies were expected to wear at all times.
A stiff breeze swept through the woods, shaking branches and rustling leaves.Gemma sighed in delight as the fresh air cooled her heated cheeks and wafted against the back of her neck.
“We should go back,” Lord Stonehaven said abruptly, his nice face creased with concern.“I had not realized quite how rugged the terrain would be.This area of England has some of the steepest hills, due to the formations of the band of chalk that threads through the downs.You are fatigued.”
“Nonsense,” Gemma huffed, holding her hat onto her head with one hand to fight the breeze that seemed determined to rip it off her and send it swirling down the hillside in a flutter of lavender ribbons and silk violets.Her white cotton muslin gown was sprigged with posies of embroidered violets, which looked very well with the purple of her spencer.
All of which looked ridiculous when paired with Wellington boots, but there she was.“I’m faring perfectly well, thanks to the marvelous footwear you gifted me.”
Lord Stonehaven drew her to a halt with one gentle hand on her elbow.He gazed down at her, his long, angular face softened by his slight smile.“The cave I wanted to show you is still some little distance away.”
Even as her heart sank into her ugly boots, Gemma put on a determined smile.“Wonderful.Lead on, your lordship!”
“You are most agreeable, Lady Gemma.A kinder lady I have yet to meet.”
It was difficult not to grimace at this overestimation of her character, but Gemma managed it by glancing around the glen in which they’d paused.
They were on the estate of the Duke of Havilocke now, she knew, though she had never explored in this direction before.The manor house lay somewhere behind them, grand and imposing even in decay.The woods they walked in were older than the house, the forest canopy so dense it nearly blocked out the gathering blue-gray rainclouds rolling across the late April sky.
They were going to get wet, she realized fatalistically.Thank goodness she’d brought an umbrella that doubled as a walking stick.
