“I was searching for him,” he smiled, “but I found you.”
Della softened right in front of his eyes, her eyes heavy lidded and her lashes resting on her barely flushed cheeks. Her smiling mouth fell into something more demure, almost shy.
“In the stables?” Mrs. Goldsmith blurted. Andrew had briefly forgotten there were other people in the room.
“Yes,” Della admitted. “David would tell me of all of the adventures he went on, so I had snuck out as he always did. I’m not sure I even remember how I ended up there, but we had the kindest stable boy back then, and he let me brush the horse’s mane.”
“That’s what she was doing when I found her,” Andrew told the rest of the table. “Brushing the mane of a horse twice her size. She had to stand on a wooden box to even reach the horse’s neck.”
“That’s what I remember.” Della laughed again, this one a soft, nostalgic chuckle. “You were but a year older than me, but so much taller. And you were so worried I’d fall.”
He was. That moment began his mission of keeping Della from harm. David had never thought to include Della in their games. Andrew had, though.
She was as good at seeking as she was hiding, but he always, always found her.
Chapter Ten
It was towardthe end of breakfast the next morning when Andrew asked the question that Della had been dreading.
“So, what are we to do about this inheritance of yours?” He wiped invisible crumbs from the corners of his mouth with a napkin, and Della wondered, not for the first time, how anyone could look so dapper this early in the morning.
He’d dressed more casually today, forgoing his coat in favor of only his ivory shirtsleeves and a light-blue waistcoat. He’d spilled porridge on the tails of his cravat, so he’d simply unwound it from around his neck. There was truly no end to the improprieties he brought to this house.
Della loved it.
“Let’s... discuss that another time,” she managed to say once she looked away from the slice of bare skin at the base of his neck where his shirt draped open. She tried to convey her meaning with her facial expressions, widening her eyes and shifting in the direction of the dining room’s open door, but she could feel his confusion.
It was just the two of them at the moment, but anyone could walk in or walk by, and Della didn’t know how to explain this to anyone else. She didn’t know yet what there was to explain. The subterfuge made her intensely uncomfortable, and she was no good at keeping secrets. The only secret she’d ever kept was the illness that hadeventually become public knowledge, and the resulting alienation was enough to make Della avoid hiding anything from anyone ever again.
“Meet me in the library,” she whispered across the table. “You leave the table first, then I’ll follow.”
She thought this was an excellent plan, but then she remembered he had no idea where the library was. He seemed to be poised to say just that, but she continued on.
“Right down this corridor, third door on the left.”
He nodded. She waved her hands in a motion that indicated he should commence phase one of their plan and leave the room. A moment too late, she realized that was an incredibly rude thing to do. Della blamed him for that, though. He was forever making her too comfortable. Too safe for her own good. Her manners went the way of her good sense, vanishing at the first sight of him.
Andrew smiled, his lips just barely curling up enough to make his dimples appear. Wordlessly, he stepped back from the table and departed. He was rather stealthy, actually. Must have been all that hiding and seeking they’d done as children. It had made him sneaky and made her adept at hiding herself.
Della stood, trying to make as little noise as possible. The chair had other ideas, scratching against the dining room floor as if its only purpose was to produce a horrible sound. She stayed still for a moment, both to stretch her tightened limbs and to determine if anyone heard her moving about. Everyone in the house was always so attentive, and it felt like betrayal to be avoiding them all like this. There simply wasn’t another choice. She couldn’t throw their very livelihoods into upheaval, not until she knew the facts. Right then, it was all just speculation. The whole ordeal was made of overheard whispers in the night.
Walking on the tips of her toes, Della left the dining room. She looked both ways at the door and hauled her shawl higher up on her shoulders. The hallway was always drafty, and she found that herelbows just could not bear the touch of the air.
Della kept her head down the entire way, but she acknowledged that was beyond foolish. It was not as if they were in a crowded ballroom, and she could pass by a stray partygoer without being recognized. If anyone saw her, she’d say she needed a novel from the study. Or that she’d decided to take a walk about the house instead of outside in the gardens. She’d lie and say that something about the absolutely perfect weather outside was unamenable to her.
Even as she praised her own quick thinking, she didn’t need it. She made it to the library without seeing a soul, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she opened the heavy door and gently closed it behind her.
“I am sorry for speaking so openly,” Andrew said. “I should have known you wouldn’t want everyone to know.” He was roaming the wall, looking at the spines of books she’d collected over the years. It was quite a selection, if Della did say so herself.
“It is not that I don’t want them to know,” she sighed, lowering herself into the chair in front of the enormous oak desk in the center of the room. “I simply don’t want to cause a stir until we...”
Her voice trailed off as she realized what she’d said. We. Implying present company was included in whatever this was. He hadn’t agreed to anything, and she hadn’t truly asked, so it felt like a rather bold assumption.
“Until we know more?” Andrew finished for her. He still walked slowly, his hands folded behind his back. It was a slow march across the room, and it was making Della nervous.
“I suppose,” she agreed. “Please, sit down.” She gestured to the admittedly overly plush chair behind the desk, and Andrew’s eyebrows raised in a way that was almost comical.
Still, he sat.
