How was Lord Gray this morning? Had he slept at all? Many nights I wondered as much, having awoken to his coughing throughout the night. How much time did he have left? His home had been a haven for my mother, but a source of misery and pain for me. Perhaps I should feel grief knowing his illness was worsening, but I felt so little emotion, no hope other than for Clara’s future. If she was happy, and we were together, then nothing else mattered.
“Is it morning already?” Clara’s voice was hoarse with sleep, her eyes still closed.
“Just barely. It appears it will be a rainy day.”
“Good. Then the men will have to stay in,” she answered.
I peered out our window, listening to the pitter-patter of rain hitting the glass. She was right. I could hardly avoid Peter today. But at least indoors we would not be alone together. Perhaps then I would not kiss his hand or run wild on a hill or loosen my tongue and tell him even more of my secrets.
“Perhaps I will go down,” I whispered. Being up early meant I could excuse myself later. “Will you sleep another hour?”
“Or two.” Clara rolled over, tightening her covers around her.
The only person in the drawing room was Lady Demsworth, who looked disheveled with a messy braid and a loose morning coat about her shoulders. I’d known her to be casual in company, but this was quite unusual. What had prompted her to rise so quickly without first dressing?
“You’re awake early, Miss Moore. Is everything all right?” she asked as I entered the room. Only a few candles were lit along with the hearth at the back of the room.
“Quite. I fear I’ve overslept these past few days. I am finally well enough rested. Might I ask you the same question? Are you well?”
Lady Demsworth yawned politely. “A tree was struck by lightning in the night. It felled a fence and loosed a herd of cow. A few of the horses got out as well, likely scared by the storm. Mr. Beckett alerted Ronald a few hours ago. He is fortunate to have so many dear friends staying with us. All four men have gone out to assess the damage. I am sure they will also assist our servants in repairs and in rounding up the animals. Ronald never could sit idly by. As for me, I could not sleep for worry of the cost if he cannot recover the animals and mend the necessary repairs on his own.”
“Heavens.” But weren’t the Demsworths wealthy? Why would Lady Demsworth be so distraught over the cost? At any rate, I had not expected such severe news. “I am terribly sorry to hear it.”
“Ronald will get it sorted out. I am sure I worry for nothing, but I am his mother. It is my life to worry over him, being that he is my only child.”
“Of course you worry. That is natural. He is fortunate to have you, Lady Demsworth.”
She sighed, brushing her skirts and thin coat. “Forgive my appearance. If you are awake, the others will soon be joining you. I should go and be properly dressed.”
“Of course,” I said as she stood. I wanted to tell her I did not mind one bit if she dressed properly or not. Given the circumstances, there were more important things to worry about. She did not have to pretend or put on a face with me. But before I built up the courage to speak, she’d gone.
Left alone in the drawing room, I moved to a chair facing the window. Raindrops slid down as though racing for a finish line, and for some reason, between the crackling of the hearth and the flashing of lightning, I thought of Peter.
Was he out there in this storm?
Was he safe?
The women gathered in the breakfast room one by one as the storm began to dissipate. More candles were lit to combat the dreary bleakness outside. We ate together without the men, who were taking a stressfully long time to return.
“Should we worry over them?” Beatrice paused before taking another bite of ham.
“I think not,” Lady Demsworth replied in a tone that failed to reassure the group.
Mr. Gregory appeared in the doorway. “My lady?”
Everyone at the table turned to the butler.
“Sir Ronald and his company have rounded up a good majority of the herd, though a few head have been lost. And all the horses were found, excepting the colt.”
“Oh no.” Lady Demsworth lifted a hand to cover her face.
“Summer’s colt? Winter?” I blurted without thinking.
“Yes,” Lady Demsworth answered, surprised, before turning to the butler. “How long has he been away from his mother? Could he even have survived?”
“There is no way to know for sure, but I think, barring any injury, he could have. Is there anything else, my lady?”
“Please keep me informed. Thank you, Mr. Gregory.”
