Leticia started to deny it, but her words caught somewhere between a smile and a sigh.
“Come,” Lady Eastbury said, steering her gently back toward the parlor.
Leticia glanced toward the door, but he was already gone. The garden beyond shimmered in sunlight, unchanged. And yet, nothing in her life was as it had been only days ago. The kiss had unsettled more than her heart. It had rearranged her expectations.
“Let’s finish our tea,” her aunt said lightly, though her eyes lingered on Leticia a moment longer. “There’s more to discuss than ribbons and reputation.”
Chapter Thirteen
The carriage turnedup the gravel drive toward Ashcombe Hall, its wheels crunching a rhythmic welcome as the great house came into view. Gabriel waited at the top of the stairs, not as a soldier or distant aristocrat, but as a man receiving guests. His presence, steady and watchful, made Leticia’s pulse leap.
The carriage drew to a stop. Gabriel descended the steps and reached the carriage just as the butler opened the door.
“Lady Eastbury. Lady Salisbury. Welcome to Ashcombe Hall.” He offered his hand to Lady Eastbury, but she waved him off with a familiar smile.
“Help my niece first, Lord Ashcombe. I’m perfectly steady.”
Leticia accepted his hand, her fingers curling against his palm. A moment of stillness caught her. It was absurd, how something so formal could feel so intimate.
“Lady Salisbury,” he said softly.
“My lord.”
Lady Eastbury stepped down behind her and gave Gabriel a keen look. “That tea you sent was perfectly chosen. A fine blend of jasmine and oolong, my favorite, though I haven’t found it in years.”
Gabriel turned to Fenton. “I believe I have my butler to thank for that.”
Fenton bowed. “It was my pleasure, my lady.”
Leticia’s cheeks warmed. The bouquet of cream roses he had sent, without any note, only his seal, lingered in her senses. They weregraceful, restrained like him. She had pressed one bloom between the pages ofCamilla, as though she could pin down the memory.
As they crossed the threshold into Ashcombe Hall, sunlight poured through arched windows, warming the stone floors. The faint scent of polish and lavender wrapped around her. For a heartbeat, she felt as if the house itself had taken a breath.
They were shown into a drawing room, where a tea tray sat already prepared. Lady Eastbury thanked Gabriel for the invitation and the thoughtful gifts.
“You’re too kind,” she added, eyeing the porcelain teapot. “This tea is a favorite of mine.”
Gabriel cast a look at Fenton. “Entirely his recommendation.”
Lady Eastbury smiled. “Well played, Mr. Fenton.”
Leticia’s gaze lingered on Gabriel. “You’ve made the place warm.”
He tilted his head. “It remembers laughter. I’m only coaxing it back.”
The words tugged at her, as though he spoke not only of the house but of himself.
Lady Eastbury settled into a high-backed chair. “And doing it well, I daresay. My sister and I visited Ashcombe Hall often in our younger days.”
Leticia turned, startled. “I don’t recall you mentioning that.”
“I imagine I didn’t,” her aunt replied with a wistful smile. “Your mother was far better at managing memories.”
A ripple of curiosity rose in Leticia. Her mother and Ashcombe Hall. What else had been left unsaid?
Gabriel crossed to the window. “Would you care to see the portrait gallery?”
“Lead on,” Lady Eastbury said. “Though I warn you, I may correct the footmen if they get any names wrong.”
