“Go and find his lordship, Moody. Ask him to join us,” Eustace instructed him.
Hetty leaned forward and poured out two cups. She cut him a piece of cake and placed it on the plate.
Eustace stirred his tea. “So very nice to have company.”
Hetty didn’t like the way he looked. As if he would prefer to doze in his chair than talk to her.
Moments later, Guy walked into the room. He sat in a wing chair. “I’ve been to visit the tenant farmers, Eustace,” he said, taking a cup and saucer from Hetty with a nod of thanks. “They all suffer great difficulty with leaking roofs and not enough to eat.”
“As is the case for the rest of England.” Eustace stirred his tea. “The Prince of Wales is a charming fellow, but a spendthrift, and there’s no help from his father, for he is mad. Lord Melbourne’s Tory government is coming under enormous criticism, but they’re doing their best.” He took a sip of tea. “I don’t consider it polite to discuss these matters in front of Horatia.”
Guy folded his arms and frowned.
“This cake is first rate. Please pass my compliments to your cook when you return, my dear,” Eustace said.
Rather disappointed not to be part of the discussion, Hetty passed Guy a plate. He looked annoyed. If she’d hoped to lighten the atmosphere between them and make things better, she’d failed.
When the tea things were taken away, Eustace leaned back and yawned behind a hand. “Horatia, take Guy for a walk to the lake. I feel in need of a nap.”
Eustace had clasped his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes before they left the room.
The gardens greeted them with the smell of damp earth, the rustle of wind through the leaves, the call of birds, and the hum of insects. Guy opened the gate at the bottom of the parterre garden and stood aside for her to pass through.
“Where did you learn to ride astride?” Guy asked her as they strolled together.
Hetty picked a bay leaf from the tree and held it to her nose, breathing in its aromatic fragrance. “In India. A servant taught me to ride when my parents traveled into the higher country for the rainy season. Life was more relaxed there.”
“How long were you in India?”
“I spent my nursery years with Aunt Emily in England. Then I was sent to join my parents in Calcutta. It was different to England, but the English created a society as close to England’s as they could make it. We enjoyed our tea, and they drank gin to keep malaria at bay. Cricket and polo matches were enormously popular. Not a heathenish existence by any means. It was every bit as strict as English society.” A small community rife with scandal and rumor as she remembered it.Much like the ton must be.
The fountain was empty except for rotting leaves at the bottom. They skirted around the lime walk which was so overgrown as to be impassable, walking over the lawns toward the glimmer of water. The breeze had lost its sharpness, and the grass no longer crunched underfoot. It was unlike Guy to be so quiet. “Winter is losing its grip,” she said to fill in a long pause.
“It should be pleasant here in the spring.”
“It’s glorious. The trees with new leaves and every bush blooms with flowers.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Have I done something to annoy you?”
He turned to face her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. She startled at his touch. He was so physical. Englishmen weren’t so, at least not the ones she knew. His eyes implored hers. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I do,” she said without hesitation.
His eyes searched hers. “You believe that I am who I say I am?”
“That you are Lord Fortescue? Of course, I do.”
The deep timber of his voice sounded sincere, but more than that, she’d never detected any sign of deceptiveness in his manner.
“Merci.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I hate living under a cloud like this. I feel… helpless. Something I’m not used to.”
“You must be patient. Eustace has written to your sister—”
“It’s not that, for this will be settled in time. It’s a matter of trust.”
“If you could just see it from Eustace’s point of view, Guy—”
