Abby snorted. “Nonsense, Billy. Who would have . . .” She trailed off, going still, and listening. “By God, the boy’s right. But how? Those ruts were as deep as ditches. It must have taken loads of stone to fill them!”
Rose squinted down at the road passing underneath the wagon wheels. It was too dark to see much, but instead of the usual creak and groan of the wheels rumbling over the craters, there was only a low, steady crunching sound, as if they were driving over a deep, even layer of gravel. And while their progress up the drive wasn’t precisely smooth—their old, dilapidated wagon never offered a smooth ride—she also wasn’t gripping the edge of her seat in a desperate attempt to stay upright, so neither was it the bone-shattering assault to the backside it usually was.
“You don’t suppose . . .” Abby began, her voice lowered. “Could it be that—”
“The Duke of Grantham had it repaired?” Of course, it had beenhim. He was the only person in all of Gloucestershire who could have gotten such an onerous job done in the few weeks since they’d left Hammond Court.
At Christmastime, no less.
But why? And when? It must have been after their sleigh ride yesterday, of course, or else she would have noticed it when they—
No. They hadn’t come down the drive at all yesterday. Max had taken another route. Otherwise, she would have noticed that it had been repaired.
It had been his idea to approach from the east side, past the stables, and into the kitchen courtyard. He’d said it was to save the sleigh’s runners from the rutted road, but that couldn’t have been the reason, because the drive must have already been repaired by then.
Had he not wanted her to see it? But why?
Unless . . . had it been a surprise?
Her throat closed, and tears sprang to her eyes.Why, of all the people in the world to show her such an unexpected kindness, must it behim? Why must it benow, when she’d just made up her mind to banish him from her heart forever?
She didn’t want his kindness. Notnow. She didn’t want to be beholden to the Duke of Grantham for a single thing.
Worse, it didn’t even make any sense! He’d told her himself he was going to tear Hammond Court to the ground. Why had he bothered to repair the drive, then? What did it matter if it were smooth, once Hammond Court was gone?
Was it all part of his ruse? But what would he have to gain by—
“Oh, my goodness.” Abby seized Rose’s arm. “Rose, look!”
They’d reached the end of the drive. Billy brought the wagon to a halt, but none of them alighted. They all sat there, mouths open, staring up at the house. It was as dark as the sky above it, but Billy raised the lantern, and a soft curse fell from his lips as the light passed across the front of the house, catching on the dull glint of smooth, shiny glass.
“The broken windows.” Rose covered her mouth with her hand, hardly able to believe what she was seeing.
The damaged windows that looked down upon the drive were gone. Every cracked pane, every jagged edge, every sagging casement had been removed, and a new, sturdy window put in its place.
Max hadn’t just seen to the drive. He’d taken care of the windows, too.
She set the lantern carefully onto the seat of the wagon, her hands suddenly too shaky to hold it steady. For a long time, no one said a word, but finally, Abby stirred. “Come inside, Rose. You’ll catch your death sitting outdoors in the cold in that thin silk gown.”
Abby climbed down from the wagon and held out her hand to Rose, who took it without a word and allowed Abby to lead her to the front door.
The length of rope was gone. The old doorknob and plate were back in their accustomed places, but they’d been scraped free of rust and dirt, and polished until they gleamed a glossy black in the lantern light.
She reached out and ran her fingertip over the smooth iron plate, but she made no move to open the door, afraid of what awaited her inside.
Because he wouldn’t have stopped at the door. Even after such a short acquaintance, she somehow knew that once Maxwell Burke made up his mind to do something, he wouldn’t rest until it was finished.
“Standing out here in the cold isn’t going to change anything, Rose.” Abby gave her a gentle nudge. “Open the door.”
It was an odd feeling, stepping over the threshold and slipping inside after so many weeks away. She’d never been gone from Hammond Court before—not even for a single night—and the strangest sensation seized her as she passed into the entryway.
It was as if she were trespassing. As if this were someone else’s home, and she no longer had any right to be here.
But then, itwassomeone else’s home, wasn’t it? It belonged to Max now.
“Why, Abby?” she whispered, tears once again rushing into her eyes. She was exhausted and heartbroken, and she couldn’t make sense of any of this. “Why did he do it?”
“I can’t say, dearest.” Abby gave her a helpless shrug. “Perhaps he doesn’t intend to tear it down, after all. Perhaps he’s made up his mind to keep it, and live here.”
