Page 72 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 25
“I say,” Lady Rilendale declared. It was morning, and Emmeline was seated beside her in the breakfast room. Andrew was sitting opposite, and his gaze met hers warmly. The elderly lady had recovered seemingly overnight, and, two days after their adventure in the boathouse she sat, dressed in her pale grey gown, eating breakfast. “These pastries are decidedly better than the ones the cook used to make.”
Emmeline giggled. “They are rather nice, are they not?” she agreed. It was a pleasure to see Lady Rilendale enjoying her food. Emmeline lifted her own teacup—a blue Meissen Ware one that had been discovered in one of the condemned sections of the manor—and drank.
“Most enjoyable,” the older woman replied. “Andrew. You’re not eating any pastries.” She sounded reproachful.
“They’re lemon curd,” Andrew said, nose wrinkling. “I don’t like them.”
Lady Rilendale laughed, and Emmeline smiled at him. He was so proud, so quiet, that something as ordinary as likes and dislikes was endearing and even more delightful than it would ordinarily have been.
“There’s orange marmalade for the toast, though,” the dowager countess reminded him.
“Yes. I will be enjoying the toast today, not the pastries,” Andrew told her with a smile.
They all laughed.
Emmeline reached for a pastry, biting into it. Her mind wandered to the events ahead of them. Andrew was going to join them after breakfast, and Andrew had suggested they all go for a ride. Andrew had invited a seamstress from Rilendale village to the manor to make a new gown for Emmeline—he intended it to replace her ruined day dress.
Her mind drifted from the simple, pleasant day they had planned to the horror that they had just lived through a few days before. It hardly seemed possible that in such a short time one could go from being threatened with a pistol to sitting eating pastries and idly planning one’s day.
The Watch had taken both Ambrose and Lydia into custody, and they had likewise apprehended the physician, Wainwright, for his part in poisoning Lady Rilendale and perhaps the late earl as well. They had received no news of the outcome, though the three would be tried in London soon.
Emmeline pushed the thought away with a shudder. She did not wish to know, and nor did she care particularly. As long as they were far away from her and her loved ones, and their evil plans had been subverted, she did not need to know anything further about them. The important part was that they were gone from her world.
“...and I wondered if you would like to take a walk around the grounds later,” Andrew was saying to Lady Rilendale when she brought her thoughts back to the conversation.
“I would love to, Andrew dear,” Lady Rilendale murmured, dabbing her lips with her napkin and reaching for her teacup. “But don’t forget it’s my morning at Hadley Manor today. The ladies will be upset if I do not attend tea.”
“Of course. Yes, Grandma. I forgot,” Andrew said with a smile. Emmeline’s heart filled with warmth. It was a pleasure to see Lady Rilendale involved in simple everyday things again. Her illness had upset them all enormously, even though it had been mostly a sham. Her gaze moved admiringly to the older woman, amazed by her wily and observant brain.
She ate another pastry and glanced sideways at Andrew. He was sipping his tea, a distant expression on his face. He saw her watching him and smiled.
“Shall we go for a walk in the garden?” he asked.
“Yes. Let’s,” Emmeline agreed.
They excused themselves from Lady Rilendale and headed down to the garden together.
“A warm day,” Andrew murmured.
“Very warm,” Emmeline agreed. She had dressed in a pale blue day dress with short sleeves, and she was glad about the choice—the sun was blazing down, and the sky was vibrant blue. It looked as though it was going to be an unusually hot day.
“I wonder what you will think of the plans for a garden here,” Andrew asked her as they walked to a spot where the gardeners had already begun digging. The overgrown lawn was indented with flowerbeds filled with rich brown earth, and the lawn itself had been trimmed so that it was possible to imagine it as a proper lawn one day when the weeds and small bushes no longer encroached on it.
“I’m sure I will like it,” Emmeline began, wanting to ask what they planned to plant there. As she cleared her throat, however, the sound of horse’s hoofs interrupted them, and Andrew looked up.
“Must be Neville,” he commented. He was smiling.
“Indeed,” Emmeline agreed, and they both stood near the carriage path as the man approached on horseback. It was indeed Neville, and he saw them coming and lifted his hat somewhat recklessly, one hand remaining on the reins to guide his horse.
“I say! Lady Rilendale. Andrew! You two are out and about far too early.”
Andrew chuckled. “And you too, apparently. Good morning, Neville.”
“Good morning.” He bowed low, removing his top hat. His gaze was bright as he bowed to Emmeline. “My lady! A pleasure to see you so well.”
“Thank you,” Emmeline murmured. Gratitude flooded through her like a warm torrent. Without his having speedily done as Andrew had asked, they might both be dead.
