“Calling it by a fancy name doesn’t change the fact you were eavesdropping,” he joked.
Edwina bobbed her head. “You are right. I was eavesdropping.”
“Was that so hard to admit?” he asked with a smile.
“It was, actually,” Edwina replied.
Miles grew solemn. “It was wrong what Lord Dallington said of you,” he said. “I have never considered you ‘mousy.’ Reserved. Shy. Unapproachable. Those were merely my initial perceptions of you.”
Edwina worked hard to keep the displeasure off her expression at his words. “Thank you for your honesty,” she muttered.
“But now…” His words trailed off as he turned to face her fully, his expression soft yet intense. “The words I would describe you as are vastly different. Fierce. Loyal. Compassionate. But, more importantly, I am completely and breathtakingly fascinated by you.”
Edwina’s breath caught, unsure if she could believe his words or if they were simply to flatter her. But the sincerity in Miles’ eyes and the conviction in his voice made her want to believe him. “You are kind, my lord,” Edwina murmured.
“That is the thing, there is nothing kind about it,” Miles said. “It is the way I feel.”
As Miles collected his horse, Edwina took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. Could he really mean his words? And if so, what did that mean?
Mrs. Warren stepped out onto the porch. “Thank you again, my lord,” she said with genuine gratitude.
Miles acknowledged her words with a tip of his head before he started leading his horse towards the path. Edwina matched his stride and they walked down the path together in comfortable silence. Never had silence felt so poignant.
But it didn’t last long.
Miles glanced at her and asked, “Did your father leave you an inheritance?”
Unsure of where this conversation was headed, Edwina replied, “No, just a dowry of fifteen thousand pounds.”
“That is a generous dowry, but are you sure that is all your father left for you?” Miles pressed.
Edwina furrowed her brow in thought. “I never read his will, but my uncle informed me that my father made no mention of me in it.”
Miles’ expression turned solemn as he inquired, “Does that not strike you as odd, considering how much your father doted on you?”
Her brow furrowing deeper, Edwina responded, “Not particularly, since it is my uncle’s responsibility to care for mesince he inherited my father’s title. I’m sure they discussed such matters beforehand.”
Miles didn’t look convinced as he shared, “I happened to overhear a conversation between your uncle and Mr. Stanley.”
“You mean you eavesdropped?” she teased.
He chuckled. “I prefer the term ‘collective listening.’” His demeanor grew somber again. “The conversation implied that there may be additional funds that should have been available to you.”
“I don’t know what funds those could be.”
“Perhaps it would be worth asking to see your father’s will,” Miles suggested.
Edwina’s eyes grew wide. “If I were to do such a thing, my uncle would be furious at me for not trusting him. I wouldn’t want to anger him.”
Miles tightened the reins in his hand. “But what if you are entitled to more than what has been given to you?”
“What if you just misconstrued the conversation?”
“I didn’t,” Miles replied, his jaw set and his eyes blazing with conviction. “I know what I heard.”
Edwina shifted her gaze away from his, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of everything. What was she to do? If she asked to see the will and Miles was wrong, then her uncle would be furious at her. But what if he was right? No. That was inconceivable. Her uncle wouldn’t try to cheat her out of an inheritance. The mere thought made her stomach churn with unease.
Would he?
