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She waited for more, but he stopped, and she knew better than to press the issue further.

“So, there you have it,” he said with a mirthless smile. “Now you see why it would not do to allow your sister to attach herself to someone who is so poor a prospect.”

Wealthy or not, Marianne still could not agree that Mr. Steele was a poor prospect. He was as good a man as she had ever known.

“Now tell me, Miss Coventry, why are you out here all alone?”

She wasn’t sure she was ready to turn the conversation back on her own problems, but she resigned herself with a shrug. “You must have heard the dinner party convening now at Daffley Park. I am out here because I am not welcome in there.”

“So they do not allow you to even attend parties at your own home?”

“Only after dinner. I must remain at mother’s side or at the edge of the room in silence. But I’ve found such a task horribly degrading.”

Mr. Steele nodded, as if he agreed with her assessment. Honestly, she did not know who wouldn’t agree with her, apart from Father, of course. And the Abbotts. Still, it was nice to be understood by Mr. Steele. Then again, she always felt understood by him.

“I’m sorry you feel so trapped,” he said after a moment. “I do wish I could help.”

Did this man’s goodness have no end? “My trials are nothing compared to your own.”

“It is not wise to compare trials or to claim that one’s are more difficult than another’s. After all, no one can understand fully what is occurring within another’s heart. All we can do is strive for empathy. This way, we may better understand a person’s needs, be that friendship or solitude, service or conversation.” He stopped, leaning toward her. “That being said, I believe I may have just the thing to help ease your burden. If only for a moment.”

Her heart grasped onto the hope he extended toward her as if it was a rope, saving her from drowning in the sea of sorrow she’d lowered herself into in the first place.

This man was in no way a poor prospect. “What is that?”

He sent her an enigmatic smile. “We must go in search of it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mr. Steele stood up from his spot on the grass, and Marianne averted her gaze from the wet patch that had soaked through his backside. She really should not be noticing such a thing.

He extended his hand toward her. “Come. We must hurry so we do not miss it.”

Their hands met as he helped her up, his callused fingers on hers for but a moment before he released her and led the way forward.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he retrieved his jacket and her blanket and sketchbook from the ground.

She twisted her body around to avoid him noting her own wet skirts.

“You shall see soon enough.” His mysterious smile grew as he led her forward past the pond and beech tree and out into the field bordering Daffley Park.

She glanced toward the house. Even though the dining and drawing rooms faced the other side of the estate, anxiety crept through her stomach. Then again, what could Father do if they were discovered? Prevent her entrance into Society even longer?

“It is just up here,” Mr. Steele said.

She set aside her lingering worries and focused ahead.

Without the shelter of the large tree, the wind carried a stronger, brisker chill, seeming to penetrate her very skin. After a moment, they reached the stone wall that ran through the property and sectioned off fields of the grass still wet from the rain earlier that day.

Mr. Steele patted the top of the stone wall. “Sit here,” he instructed.

She eyed the wall that reached well above her chest. “Do you expect me to scale it?”

He laughed, and Marianne’s eyes swiftly met his. She’d never heard him laugh before. Heavens, she’d never even seen him smile so widely before. His whole countenance shifted, his brows raised, his jaw even more defined as he grinned.

He laid her blanket across the wall then turned to her, stretching out his arms. “Allow me to help.”

Suddenly, the stone wall seemed ten feet tall instead of the five that it was. “You are to lift me up there?”