Trey scratched his chin. “Yet, in a way she does. There is something in her eyes that speaks of a hard life.”
“Are you saying Louisa could be the Danvers’ daughter and never drowned?” Trevor asked.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Trey nodded.
“Then why has she not been with her family all these years?” Hawthorne wondered.
Trey shrugged. “Perhaps she lost her memory all those years ago instead of when you hit her with the carriage?”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Trevor rolled his eyes. “If that were the case, she would not have acted so distraught when realizing she did not have a memory.” He grumbled and turned to mount his horse. This was how gossip began, and he wouldn’t have any more of it. “Gentlemen, I grow weary of this discussion. I’m heading back to the manor with or without you.”
Chapter Nine
Louisa clipped afew more dead leaves before turning her gaze in the direction where the men had ridden off. She didn’t expect them to return anytime soon, but still…it was nice to watch nonetheless. Lord Hawthorne seemed very friendly, but not at all familiar. He thought he knew her, but she doubted he did. Although handsome, he didn’t spark her memory at all. It surprised her to think he actually flirted with her, yet it was still Kenbridge who held her attention.
Trevor.
His brother had called him by his given name, a name she hadn’t heard until today. Now she couldn’t stop repeating it in her mind. What a glorious, masculine name. Dreamily, she sighed. If only she were a true lady, he might look at her as a woman. Instead, all he saw was a servant—or the vagabond he’d rescued.
When she caught herself not focusing, she snapped her attention back to the rose bush.Dawdling is not tolerated. Yet, the raspy voice from the dark recesses of her mind that disturbed her from time to time slowly diminished and peace settled over her. Although she received the impression she hadn’t been allowed leisure time in her past, she was given more freedom to do so now. Her work still had to be done, but at least her mind could create another world for her dreams.
Still, it didn’t stop her from wishing she were someone else. The vision she’d had about being at a ball as a young girl—or at least witnessing it—seemed so real. She’d love to have that kind of life, even if she were the personal maid for the lady of the house.
So lost in her dreams, she didn’t realize what she was doing until Mrs. Fitzwilliam gasped. Louisa jerked alert and glanced at the woman whose wide eyes were directed on the flower bush in front of Louisa. She swung her attention to what she’d been cutting. A sob gushed from her throat. All around her feet littered the beautiful flowers she’d cut to shreds.
“What have you done?” the other woman shrieked as she yanked the clippers out of Louisa’s hands.
She groaned. “Please, forgive me. I—I—I wasn’t watching. I didn’t pay attention—”
“Obviously.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam rolled her eyes. “I’m relieved you only destroyed one bush instead of the others in his lordship’s garden.”
“As am I.”
“What in heaven’s name were you thinking?”
“I was not thinking, which is clearly my problem. I daydream so often.”
“Daydream?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. I shan’t do it again.”
Mrs. Fitzwilliam placed hands on her beefy hips. “Woolgathering should not be done while we are working. This is probably why you ruined his lordship’s meal last night.”
“Actually, it was because I confused the herbs.”
“If you are ever going to prove yourself to us and his lordship, you have to focus.”
Louisa nodded. “I understand. Again, please forgive me.”
The other woman handed the clippers back to Louisa and nodded at the next bush. “See if you can trim that without cutting every last flower.”
“Thank you.” She walked around the shredded rose bush to find another one. Against her legs rubbed something soft and furry. Startled, she jumped away and looked down, thinking she’d see a rodent. Instead, a gray kitten mewed and gazed up at her.
“Oh, look what I found.” She scooped the kitten in her arms. The animal purred and rubbed its face against her arm. She turned to the other woman. “I didn’t know his lordship had cats.”
Mrs. Fitzwilliam narrowed her gaze on the kitten. “They are all kept in the stable, to keep the mice away from the grain. This animal is probably one of those.”
Louisa petted the soft fur. “The kitten does not look as if he’s been fed properly.”
