Mr. Campbell smiled softly. “That sounds like a fond memory.”
“It is.” I swallowed. Perhaps I should have stopped talking, but now the memories were all spilling out from their hiding places. “I did grow perhaps too comfortable with the bees.” Ilowered my voice to whisper. “I would never tell my aunt, but I was stung on one occasion. I was resolved to despise the little creatures after that, but my father taught me that being hurt by one bee didn’t mean I had to hate them all.”
Mr. Campbell’s smile grew. “Your aunt might benefit from the same advice.”
I shared his smile, leaning closer. “She would never listen.”
The air was calm between us, yet I felt an unmistakable pull toward him. The warmth in his eyes caused my stomach to flutter, and I had to look away. I had never shared so many details of my past with anyone. I kept all my memories of my father locked away like little treasures, only to be reflected on and never spoken aloud. But sharing such hidden stories with Mr. Campbell was surprisingly easy, and I seemed unable to stop.
His curious look returned. “Is Freddy the heir to the estate?”
I shook my head and looked away, snapping the invisible string between us. “We have an elder brother. He lives there with our mother.” I didn’t enjoy speaking of John and all he had done to ruin what my father had built. Betrayal and anger snaked through my stomach as I pictured his face. I didn’t think Mr. Campbell would notice the shift in my tone, but it seemed that I wasn’t as stoic as I thought.
“Are you close with him?”
I took a deep breath, searching for the correct words. “Not particularly. I disapprove of many of his beliefs and behaviors. Even my father did not entirely trust him to care for the estate properly. He was ill for a long while before he died, and there were times I thought he might change his will.”
Mr. Campbell’s brow furrowed. “But he didn’t?”
“No. Freddy was too young to inherit, and John was the eldest. My father worried that John would come to hate Freddy if he were given what he felt entitled to. John is not forgiving.”I swallowed. “He is quite selfish and unfeeling. I have never understood him.”
I had also never understood why my father hadn’t left anything to me. I believed I was trustworthy and well-loved by him, but at times I was pained to think that he hadn’t left me with more than a small allowance of pin money. Without a dowry, I had been constantly overlooked. I always knew I would have to marry, but I had always been content with the idea of a humble life as a clergyman’s wife or something of the sort. I knew John’s hospitality wouldn’t last forever.
Mr. Campbell’s concern seemed to deepen, his jaw tightening. “And John is your current guardian?”
I nodded, my heart pounding. I hadn’t meant to worry Mr. Campbell, but I couldn’t deny that his concern was leaving me rather flustered. “I keep my distance from him at home. He respects our mother and ensures her needs and comforts are met. He has always been rather hard on Freddy, and I have felt a responsibility to defend him.”
“That should not be your responsibility.” Mr. Campbell’s soft voice undid my emotions just enough to make my eyes sting with sudden tears. I blinked fast, focusing on my hideous painting once again.
“I don’t mind.” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat.
I heard Mr. Campbell step closer, and my heart picked up speed. I lifted my brush, quickly dipping it into my black paint, which had dried slightly in the sun. I added more water and painted a few veins on the orange wings, though I knew the piece was beyond saving. It looked even worse than before.
“Does your elder brother still look after the bees?” The question invited even more resentment inside my chest.
I dared to look up at his face. “No. He had them removed from the property after he inherited. He wanted to do the same with the ducks, but I begged him to keep them.”
Mr. Campbell’s brows shot up. “You said you hated ducks.”
“Did I?” My face tingled with heat as I recalled the moment at Sydney Gardens when I had commented on the vile creatures swimming in the pond. I had been so determined to hide who I truly was that I had felt the need to be the opposite.
“You did.” Mr. Campbell took a step closer. Startled as I was, I lifted my brush from the canvas too quickly, turning toward him. Black paint splattered across the front of his cravat.
I gasped, my heart sinking. I covered my mouth in shock. “I am so very sorry.”
Mr. Campbell’s jaw lowered in disbelief, though a smile still lingered in his eyes. Was he actually upset? I couldn’t be certain. His gaze dropped slowly to the splatter of paint, and when he met my gaze again, I realized a few speckles had also landed on the right side of his face below his cheekbone. I wanted to wipe it away, but suddenly lacked the courage.
My heart pounded. I had touched his arm in the drawing room in an attempt to flirt, but this would feel different. It was far more intimate to touch his face. I recalled the moment he had wiped the ice cream from my chin. My face burned at the thought. He had done it, so why shouldn’t I?
I glanced over his shoulder at Aunt Julia.
Oh, yes. That was why.
But as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she came into clearer view. Her head rested on her hand on the arm of the bench, her eyes closed, mouth agape. Mr. Campbell followed my gaze, and when he noticed what I had, a smile crept over his lips. “I’m surprised she can sleep in such dangerous company.”
I laughed under my breath, suddenly feeling the need to be quiet. I didn’t want to wake her…though the situation would be much more proper if I did. “They won’t bother her.”
“I wasn’t referring to the bees.” He gave me and my paintbrush a pointed look.
