With a faint smile and a nod at the landscape, she added, “Besides, it is difficult to feel anything but grateful when faced with such beauty.”
Oliver felt his own Avebury Park outshined Hardington Hall, but there was no denying that the Nelsons’ gardens were finer and more expansive. The formal gardens wrapped around the backside of the building and featured everything a floral enthusiast longed to see; even as summer stretched into autumn, they were a riot of color and a testament to their gardener’s skill.
But the view ahead of them was equally grand. Rather than building the home closer to the view they wished to see, the Nelsons’ ancestors had molded the land to be as they wished it. A vast stretch of carefully manicured green stretched out from the gardens and met a pond ringed with trees and shrubbery that was no more natural than the house beside it. Yet knowing that did not diminish its beauty. Especially when the sky could not decide between clouds or clear, blocking out much of the light except for great shafts that peeked through the white, dappling the land in gold. Those ensconced in their lawn games hardly gave it any notice, focusing instead on their scores, while he sat beside Miss Sophie, reveling in its beauty.
Oliver’s eyes drifted to his sister, who stood among the other young ladies. A polite smile was fixed on her face, but the expression was too tight to be natural. Miss Hettie Nelson and Miss Phyllis Thompson batted the shuttlecock between them, and when it flew in Lily’s direction, she swung and missed, eliciting groans from the other two. Then Miss Caswell was there, giving Lily a commiserating smile before teasing the others back into good temper. From his vantage point, Oliver could not hear their conversation, though exuberant snatches drifted towards him from time to time. Lily retrieved the shuttlecock and batted it with her battledore, launching it back into the fray with a brittle laugh.
“Can you tell me what is amiss with my sister? Lily has been sedate ever since the fishing excursion, and I cannot discover the reason for it, but I doubt someone as observant as you has missed the cause.”
Miss Sophie ran her hands over the cover of her book, her eyes drifting far from him. “It is not my secret to reveal. If your sister wishes you to know what has happened, then she will tell you.”
Oliver straightened, his brows pulling tight. “Was someone cruel to her? Tell me what occurred, and I will make it right—”
Miss Sophie grabbed his arm as Oliver moved to rise to his feet and tugged him back.
“Do not make a scene,” she said, her hand resting on his arm for several long moments before she flushed and pulled away. “There is nothing for you to do but be the brother you’ve always been.”
“Surely there must be something more.”
“You speak as though your role as adoring brother is nothing, but I assure you that giving her your love and acceptance is no little thing. She knows you and your parents cherish her, and that will do more than anything else to lift her spirits.”
Oliver held Miss Sophie’s gaze for a long moment, his heart desperate to delve deeper into the mystery rife in her words. He wanted to understand both her and Lily better, but he could not bear to hound the lady when her eyes begged him to leave things be. In the end, the only option was to trust Miss Sophie’s assurances on both fronts.
Giving a nod, Oliver turned his attention back to the party, and the pair lapsed into a comfortable silence. There was no denying the pleasure to be had in a conversation with Miss Sophie, but Oliver was coming to understand that silences could be equally enjoyable. It was peaceful in a manner that Oliver only felt when in the presence of his family, and he could not help but bask in the sentiment.
“I have missed you during my morning excursions.” Miss Sophie’s words were soft enough that Oliver nearly missed them, and when he cast his gaze towards her, her cheeks pinked in response.
Oliver shifted in his seat and attempted to speak lightly. “Surely it is better without my interference. I fear my clomping steps frightened away most of your intended subjects.”
Miss Sophie’s gaze fell to the grass, her fingers fiddling with the blades, and Oliver fought to keep from itching his arms at the guilt skittering along his skin. Four days. Four wasted mornings spent staring out his bedchamber window, knowing exactly where he wanted to be but couldn’t. Interminable hours as he waited for the time to tick by. No matter how strong his convictions, his heart would not let Miss Sophie go.
“I do get more done alone, but it is more enjoyable with you there,” said Miss Sophie, raising her eyes to meet his.
They were the blue of a clear afternoon sky and shone with that sweet heart that beat in her chest. His stomach shifted uneasily at the thought that he’d ever believed her to be anything but the honest creature she was. She was not her mother.
Yet her gaze did hold an invitation. A question. A hope. They held the same sentiments Oliver felt thumping in his chest as his heart reached out for hers, begging him to cast aside reason and take Miss Sophie as his own.
And Oliver straightened as he realized the horrid truth. He had toyed with her affections.
His mother and Lily were prone to blazing red cheeks, but Oliver rarely blushed. Yet now, he felt his face heating as his conscience called forth all the condemnation he deserved. Despite the warmth of the summer day, a chill swept through him, making his heart shiver as he realized that he’d behaved like a cad. He was not free to feel anything towards Miss Sophie other than the friendship he had offered her, and seeking her out so constantly gave rise to hopes doomed to be crushed.
Never was there a greater fool than Oliver Kingsley. There were reasons why men and women did not pursue friendships, and the evidence was slapping him in the face now.
He sucked in a breath and spoke before he could think better of it. “I need to apologize, Miss Sophie, for I have acted rashly, and it is clear to me that it isn’t appropriate for me to seek out your company in private as I have. I hope you will forgive me.”
Miss Sophie flinched, a flash of pain lighting her eyes, though she tried to hide it behind an impassive expression. But even without any outward signs, Oliver felt her heartache and knew it was his doing.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she murmured.
“There is…” But words failed him as Oliver struggled to know what to say. What could he say? He ought to leave it all unsaid, but Miss Sophie deserved some explanation. Simply disappearing from her life was cowardly, and she deserved better.
Dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, “I know I raised your expectations.” Oliver paused and cringed at that. “I raised both our expectations, and it was cruel of me to do so.”
Sucking in a deep breath, he met her gaze again. “I am not free, Miss Sophie. No matter how I may wish it different. I cannot turn my back on Miss Caswell or my family.”
The breath in her lungs stilled as her eyes filled with sparkling tears. Drawing in her lips, she bit on them and nodded. Clearing her throat, she gave a tight smile and spoke in a strained but conversational tone.
“My sister Amy wrote today to ask me to stay awhile with her,” she said with a brittle brightness. “As diverting as my trip to Bristow has been, she requires my assistance, and I fear I cannot wait until the house party is finished.”
