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“They are eager to meet you,” Father Simon finished. “And I am glad to take you there myself.”
A heaviness settled in Aidan’s stomach as he awaited her answer.
“I . . . this is quite unexpected,” she began.
He couldn’t do it.
Though the choice was hers, the thought of her accepting the priest’s offer made him speak up.
“Your companions should have arrived by now,” he interrupted. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the hall over a meal. When I received word of your arrival, supper was about to be served.”
If Father Simon was startled by the abrupt change in agenda—Aidan was the one who’d suggested an immediate meeting with Clarissa—he covered it well. His good manners dictated he would accept the offer of a meal.
And he did.
“Very good,” he said. “We shall discuss the particulars this evening—”
“And you will stay for the night, of course.”
“Aye,” Father said, confirming what Aidan already knew. The timing of the visit practically ensured it. But he simply could not shake the need to get Father Simon away from Clarissa.
“Come with us,” he offered, certain she would decline. She’d remained in hiding these last days, at her own volition, after all.
“With pleasure.”
He almost tripped over his own feet, his eyes darting to her face. Her shaky smile did not fool him. Clarissa was terrified, though he didn’t know if it was Father Simon’s offer that unsettled her or her decision to dine in the great hall.
What had changed her mind?
Dare he hope it was her acceptance of their situation? He knew Clarissa had spent the day with Lewis, and though he’d begun to make his way to the bakehouse not once but twice, he’d stopped himself both times. She’d always wished to learn how to bake, and he did not want to distract her from the experience—one she’d never been allowed before. So he spent the day training with his men, attempting not to think of her.
Attempting, but failing.
“Shall I send someone—”
“Nay, I am ready,” she said, her shaky voice betraying her words.
Father Simon did not appear to notice. Aidan raised his hand, an indication for the priest to walk ahead, and then offered his arm to Clarissa. When she took it, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow as he escorted her from the room, Aidan resisted the urge to pull her closer.
He smiled at the thought of how the others would react.
Lady Clarissa was about to be properly introduced to Highgate Castle.
Chapter 22
They’d somehow avoided the discussion that Clarissa knew was necessary. She would tell Father Simon no, but she had not yet mustered the strength to do so. And so she ignored his inquisitive looks and attempted to enjoy her evening.
An easy feat while sitting between Gillian and Allie.
When they’d first walked through the doors of the great hall, a stunned silence had descended over the room. Clarissa had done her best to ignore the fuss by concentrating on the differences between the great halls in Theffield and Highgate—while the former was a place for the men to simply gather and eat each day, the latter was a warm, inviting space filled with laughter. Then Gillian and Allie whisked her into the fold, and she spent the rest of the meal listening to the two women tell stories of their time here at Highgate.
If they were trying to convince her it was a magical place from which no one would choose to leave, Clarissa needed no convincing. There was nowhere she would rather be than here, surrounded by love.
Aidan sat next to Allie’s husband, but she darted glances at him throughout the meal. His eyes always seemed to be on her whenever she looked over.
Once, when she caught him staring, she lifted the corners of her lips in a smile meant to reassure him nothing had changed. If she’d thought for a brief moment Father Simon was the answer to her prayers, it was only because she doubted the sanity of her decision. Marrying Aidan was likely not the right thing to do. In fact, it felt utterly selfish. She found herself looking at Father Simon, wondering how much he knew. Did he suspect she had changed her mind?
Would he approve of their decision?
