Page 31 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
At least, if she were to marry his uncle, Miss Burnell would remain at the abbey. She wouldn’t be his, but he would have the pleasure of seeing her every day, of watching her grow in happiness as she had a family of her own.
Something about his heart wrenched at the thought.
There would be as much torture in that as joy.
The conversation had upset him.That much was obvious.
Rosamund felt a certain disquiet herself. She’d sensed Mr. Studborne battling his emotions, fighting them down and putting on a brave face. He’d lost his parents, she gathered, and some time ago.
One assumed people moved on, eventually. It would be too exhausting to mourn indefinitely. But what did she know?
There were only a handful of people she really cared about, and they were all still alive—even if Ethan was on the High Seas by now and she’d no idea when she’d see him again.
Mr. Studborne stood. “I’ve made you miss luncheon, I’m afraid, talking on.” Picking up the book he’d been reading, he tucked it under his arm.
“You’ll excuse me. Things to do.” He stepped over Pom Pom and, with a final, fleeting smile, turned his back, making his way further down the orangery before disappearing out of sight.
Rosamund sat quite still.
Something had happened while they were talking. A subtle sea-change in the way he’d looked at her.
She’d thought him flirting, in that awkward way of his, while dining the first night. Since then, he’d made himself unavailable, as if he didn’t care for her company at all.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Oh, Pom Pom!” She lifted him onto her lap. “Nothing is straightforward!”
Gathering her hat, she followed where Mr. Studborne had passed.
The rain was still sheeting, making it hard to see much beyond the windows, but Rosamund was startled by a sudden movement.
She paused in her step, peeping between the leaves of two lemon trees, looking out through the misted glass.
“Who’s there?”
It was a pointless thing to do, calling out. Even were someone outside, they wouldn’t hear her. Besides which, what would they be doing—besides getting terribly wet?
And yet, as Rosamund made her way back into the house, through a dark passageway which opened at last into the main hall, she couldn’t help but ponder.
Had someone been looking in?
Chapter 12
That evening,Rosamund found herself dining alone with Mr. Studborne.
To her chagrin, the duke did not appear, and nor did Madame Florian. Her mind immediately pictured them indulging in a tête-à-tête.
Really, it was quite rude—even if the duke was entitled to do as he wished in his own home.
Had she said something to offend him? She’d been too assertive, perhaps, in requesting to see the chapel. Though he’d indulged her, he’d done so reluctantly.
She’d intruded in some way she couldn’t understand, and now she was being punished.
Throughout their courses of duck pâté, lightly broiled sole and rabbit cassoulet, Mr. Studborne seemed as perturbed as she, and the meal passed with an abundance of awkward silences—hardly helped by the footmen hovering.
It was as if the intimacy of their earlier conversation had never been.
Pardoning herself from the sweet course, Rosamund pleaded a sore head and left Mr. Studborne to complete his meal without her.
