Page 59 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
Lord Sommersail shook his blonde head.
“Not us,” he replied, glancing at his group for confirmation. The other men conceded.
“They will not return without a fox,” Lord Hastings chortled. “Mark my words. We will find them in blocked ice on the morrow, their guns pointed toward the caves.”
Yet as the afternoon slipped into early evening, Nicholas found himself wandering the anteroom, looking for his father through the doorway. He could not shake the sense that it was no longer a hunt his father was embarked upon but possibly a struggle to return.
Footfalls at his back caused him to turn and Rose paused, peering down at him on the second to last step before the landing.
“Lord Buford,” she said, her tone oddly flat. “You have returned from your hunt.”
If Nicholas had not been so distracted, he would have noticed the perceivable strain in her eyes but his mind was on his father’s safety.
“Hours ago,” he replied absently. “I have not seen you.”
“I have only finished with Lord Arlington. We had intended to hike to the bluffs but the weather…”
“Indeed,” Nicholas said shortly, not wanting the reminder.
“Are you all right, my lord?” Rose asked, her face creasing with a slight concern as she descended the final stairs and slipped toward him. “You seem…disquieted.”
Nicholas stared at her for a long moment, marveling that she was able to read his face so easily. Yet as he continued to study hers, he saw that she wore her own expression of concern.
“I fear my father and his group may have grown lost in the storm,” he confessed, seeing no reason to lie. She was a good a friend as any, certainly better than the men he barely knew, imbibing and growing rowdier in the next room.
“Who is among them?” Rose asked, tilting her honey stained hair to the side in a charming fashion. Her irises glowed like sapphires against the flickering light of the candles lighting the foyer.
“Peter Alderson, Lord Preston and Captain Balfour,” Nicholas recited. “All seasoned huntsmen.”
Rose’s face waned in the light and she dropped her eyes, entwining her long fingers together, lost in thought.
“Captain Balfour is among them,” she repeated but it was not a question, only a dull, emotionless comment.
“I hope you have overcome whatever anxiety he seems to give you, Rose,” Nicholas murmured, stepping toward her as he noticed the tension in her lovely profile. “He will be gone in mere days.”
“Of course,” Rose replied quickly, raising her head to peer into his eyes but just as quickly, she shifted her gaze away.
Something has changed in her demeanor toward me,he realized.I have not seen enough of her since the party’s arrival to assess why but I would wager it has much to do with Balfour. She is reminded of her husband.
“Rose…”
He reached out to touch her arm but she drew back nervously.
“I must help Trudy with supper, my lord. I fear that Duchess Buford will be forced to spend the night in the towns and Trudy cannot handle twelve men on her own.”
“I will assist you,” Nicholas said impulsively, and Rose gaped at him.
“You, my lord? I fear you misunderstood me. I must prepare for the evening meal.”
“I understood just fine,” he replied, smiling as he met her eyes. “I wish to help.”
“My lord, you mustn’t!” she whispered. “It is improper and the men…”
“The men will be glad to have their supper in a timely fashion. No one could account for the weather doing what it has.”
She stared at him, her full lips parting in surprise and Nicholas found himself wondering if they tasted as sweet as they appeared. He dared not find out.
This is precisely what I need while I wait for father to return; a distraction with the comely Rose Parsons. Tis better than waiting by the window as a soldier’s wife would do.
