He tipped his hat. “Just thought you should know. He’d chase ya every time. He cares deeply.”
I covered my mouth for a second. I thought he had other things to do or was being respectful of my privacy like always. “Watson, do you know who gave him that idea?”
“Not sure, ma’am. But he suffered frostbite on his hands that night, walking the streets looking for you during the snowfall. If he’d found ya, he’d have tossed you over his shoulder then too. Come on back with me, Lady Gantry.”
Felton’s man-of-all-work had always been a fair arbiter. I nodded, tugged at my coat collar, and walked back with him.
We passed the pen again and that cute calf grazing. Didn’t see a mama cow anywhere.
It had been less than a half a day. How was Noah? Did he miss me? Did he notice I was gone? Or had he just come to assume I was off painting?
The notions of what a baby understood or felt were beyond me, but it didn’t remove the guilt wallowing in my gut.
No more thinking.
No more guilt today.
“Ma’am, you stopped again. Do you want the master to get you a baby cow? He’ll do it.”
A chuckle rose to my lips. “No, I don’t need a cow, but their pen is bigger than a closet. Do they do that here? Make a pen so big for one?”
The man stopped and sighed. “A big pen is good for one. Better for two.”
“Not everyone feels that way.”
“Lord Gantry is not a beast. He has survived much, and he gives much. If he has decided that it’s better for two, not much I can say. Maybe you should use your fancy education and tell him clearly what you want. Paint him a picture, if words fail.”
I wasn’t sure that I wanted to talk with him just yet. Didn’t know what to say other than sorry, sorry I wasn’t careful with my heart.
“Where’s the next coaching inn we will stop at? Where will we spend the night?”
“New Town, near the Royal Military College.”
“Thank you, Watson. I’ll take the stagecoach and meet you and Lord Gantry there.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Let me get his lordship to convince ya.”
“No, Watson. I’m Lady Gantry, and I’ve made my decision. You can inform him of my decision. He’ll know what I’m doing when he sees me. It’s for the best.”
The man frowned then bowed. “As you wish, ma’am.”
He turned on his heel and went toward the carriage, while I breathed the sweet pine, in and out, in and out. I’d had enough talk and tactics today. Felton would understand or not. This was my decision.
CHAPTER47
FELTON—A SCHEME ORTWOMIGHTDO
With his temper finally cooled and his picnic basket refilled for the next portion of their trip, he hoped the new treats would brighten her sour mood.
The guilt she bore over Helena was heartbreaking, but Tramel was now in her affections.
Was it the duke she kissed when their lips met in the carriage and again in the woods?
Tramel had confused her, taken advantage of Cecilia’s trusting soul. That’s what he wanted to believe. He had to.
He paced and wrung his hands. Felton had to believe in the truth of their touch. She wouldn’t curl to his chest to sleep, or kiss him in the fields, if she felt nothing.
When he walked out of the inn, Felton determined that he would be patient. What they had wasn’t gone. It needed to be reborn.
