He folded his arms and regarded her with impatience. Was she supposed to just answer his questions as if she were in a schoolroom?
She folded her arms and regarded him just as impassively.
“It rains. When it doesn’t rain, the sun is shining. At night, it’s dark.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, and might have become a smile, but it disappeared too quickly to tell.
“Is it windy?” he asked. “I understand there are periodic gusts.”
“In early spring more than now.”
“The area’s not prone to storms?”
“Periodically,” she said. “Like the one yesterday, but not overly so.”
“What about birds? Have you noticed any odd patterns in their flight?”
“Are you ever going to answer any ofmyquestions, Montgomery?”
When he didn’t answer, she unfolded her arms, frowned at him, and gripped both sides of her skirts.
“No,” she said, a touch of exasperation in her voice, “I’ve never seen any odd patterns in the flights of birds. They simply fly.”
He studied the ground as if he were taking all the information she gave him and putting it into a mental book.
“Why do you want to know? Is it because of your balloon?”
He turned and walked away without answering her.
She followed him to the entrance, but Montgomery only glanced at her as if her presence surprised him.
“What is it, Veronica?” he asked impatiently.
She took a step back. “Nothing, Montgomery. Absolutely nothing.”
He disappeared into the distillery, leaving her standing there.
She turned and began to walk back to Doncaster Hall. The façade in place since the day she became Montgomery Fairfax’s bride was in danger of crumbling. If it did, all her fears would come spilling out to be met, head-on, by all her doubts.
Until that moment, her marriage had had a hint of promise to it. She thoroughly enjoyed the marriage bed, whether or not she was supposed to, and anticipated spending nights in Montgomery’s arms. She’d thought they might be able to establish some sort of relationship, some friendship as well.
Evidently, she’d been thoroughly naïve.
He’d made no secret of wanting to return to Virginia. He wanted to go home. He wanted to surround himself with people who loved him, who understood him. God knows she didn’t understand him, and as far as loving him?
Who could love Montgomery Fairfax? He was arrogant, impossible, secretive, and silent.
Yet didn’t they both want the same things? He wanted to be home, and so did she. She wanted to stay there, in her country,not far from people who’d once known her. She felt tied to the land, to the history, to the people.
She didn’t want to go to Virginia. She’d no wish to travel to America. She didn’t want to be surrounded by strangers. Living with her uncle Bertrand’s family had been bad enough. She’d only met them twice before going to live with them, both events being strained visits between her mother and her brother, and barely tolerated by the two spouses.
When she reached the top of the arched bridge and glanced back, it was to find Montgomery standing in the doorway, watching her. A borrowed Scot, Mr. Kerr had called him.
A man so filled with pain she could feel it even from here.
Chapter 16
You were unkind, Montgomery.Caroline’s voice censured him.
