The corners of Miss Bawden’s lips twitched upward in amusement. “You, sneaky? I never thought I would hear those words used to describe you,” she teased.
Edwina straightened her back and put on a determined expression. “I can be sneaky.”
Miss Bawden let out a laugh. “Let’s say you have your moments of sneakiness. What is your plan?”
Hesitating for a moment, Edwina admitted, “I don’t have one yet.”
“Well then, we are off to a good start,” Miss Bawden joked.
Edwina grew quiet. What could she say- or do- to help Lord Hilgrove? She wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in his grief. She understood, all too well. She knew the painand struggle of rebuilding oneself after she had lost her father. In fact, she would never truly be the same after the suffering she had endured. The weight of her own sadness settled heavily on her heart.
Miss Bawden’s expression tightened with concern as she gently suggested, “Perhaps it would be best to focus on your own grief for now. I can see how it is weighing heavily upon you.”
“I have done nothing but focus on my own grief for what feels like an eternity,” Edwina replied. “But I believe I am in a position to help Lord Hilgrove.”
Miss Bawden didn’t look convinced. “Even if what you are saying is true, why would he accept your help?”
Edwina squared her shoulders and met Miss Bawden’s doubtful gaze. “I have to at least try,” she said in a determined voice, feeling a newfound sense of purpose blossoming within. Maybe, just maybe, her own experiences could help Lord Hilgrove through his pain.
She had tried everything to ease her grief, but to no avail. But now, with this new endeavor, she hoped that by focusing on another’s pain, hers would lessen. Perhaps even become tolerable.
As Miles made his way towards the gardens, he couldn’t quite believe the audacity of Lady Edwina. She had been far too bold with him in the library. They were hardly acquaintances and she had tried pestering him with questions, questions that he did not want to answer. He couldn’t.
Why couldn’t everyone just leave him be? He wanted to wallow in his grief and misery, yet it seemed like every person he encountered wanted to help him. Memories of happier times still haunted him, taunting him with what he once hadand lost. It was all gone now, snatched away in one swift and cruel blow.
He just needed to be alone. If he was smart, he would saddle his horse and leave this manor without concern for social niceties. It would be a great insult to depart early, but he was at his wits’ end. He didn’t want to pretend that all was well when he was struggling. Deeply.
Miles had just passed by the open study door when he heard Edwina’s name being mentioned in a hushed and somber tone. His steps faltered in the corridor as his curiosity was piqued. He could not resist stopping to listen to what was being said about her.
Lord Dallington’s voice carried through the study walls. “What am I supposed to tell her?” he asked, gruffly.
Another voice, unfamiliar to Miles, responded, “Tell her that there are no funds available for her.”
“That isn’t true though, is it?”
The unfamiliar voice remained steadfast. “It is true enough, at least as far as she is concerned.”
Lord Dallington let out a deep sigh. “I suppose you are right,” he conceded. “Although, on the other hand, do I even need to say anything? She is none the wiser about these funds.”
“I will leave that decision up to you, my lord,” the man said. “I shall see my way out.”
Realizing that he needed to leave before he was caught eavesdropping, Miles quickly retreated down the corridor and slipped out the back door into the gardens.
He glanced back at the manor as his mind raced with thoughts of what he had overheard. What funds was Lord Dallington referring to? It almost sounded as if Edwina was being cheated out of some money.
Regardless, it wasn’t his place to say or do anything. He was just a guest here. And he had no desire to intrude where he wasn’t wanted.
Botheration.
Could he just stand back and say nothing, knowing that Lady Edwina was being treated unfairly? He let out a groan. Why had his curiosity gotten the best of him and he listened in on Lord Dallington’s private conversation?
Miles knew that he had to do what his conscience dictated or else he would have more regrets. And he already had far too many of those.
Bennett’s voice sounded beside him. “Miles,” he said. “Is everything all right?”
Turning to face his friend, Miles asked, “Yes, why do you ask?”
“I have been calling your name, but you appeared deep in thought,” Bennett replied. “Or you were just trying to ignore me.”
