Page 30 of A Sense of Misgiving
She was lonely, and a little lost.
Perhaps that was why her mind seemed determined to dwell upon Captain Redfern, even though she was unable to decide how she truly felt about him. She was certainly a little smitten and enjoyed being courted by him, if that’s what was happening to her. It was hard to be sure. She hadn’t seen him that often, but whenever she had he’d made a point out of behaving charmingly towards her, making her laugh. Making her feel special. And she was uncomfortably aware that she had invented reasons to call upon Lucy while staying with Emma in the hope of seeing him. That probably made her seem desperate and might have given Captain Redfern encouragement.
She despised young women who turned into sentimental sops the moment an attractive gentleman paid them any attention. She and Emma used to laugh at such silliness and Mary had been determined never to become one of them. She had convinced herself that she had more sense than that.
But it now appeared that she did not.
Disgusted with herself, she glanced out the window and observed sunlight filtering through the trees, dappling the leaves and highlighting their glorious colours. Beyond the well-tended lawns, the fields merged into an undulating horizon of low hills and trees coppered by the season. If she were to go outside, perhaps she could capture the effects of the sun in the trees and shake the cobwebs from her brain at the same time. It was worth trying, and might even stop her thinking about the wretched captain. Flora had told her she would instinctively know when she met a gentleman who stirred her passions. Her difficulty was that she couldn’t be sure Captain Redfern had done so. It was all so very confusing.
Emma had been in love with Mr Watson, now her husband, for years and never had a moment’s doubt about the true nature of her feelings for him. How Flora could be so sure about the lures of passion when to the best of her knowledge she had never experienced it first-hand Mary was at a loss to know. But Flora was so very clever and sensible, so she was sure she must have got it right.
Mary pulled on an old-fashioned cape that left her arms free of the inconvenience of tight sleeves, snatched up her sketchbook and pencils and headed outside. She settled on a stone bench that gave her an unimpeded view of the trees she wanted to draw, waving to Luke, whom she could see standing at the long windows in his library that overlooked the gardens. He waved back and turned away, apparently preoccupied.
The fresh air, solitude and quiet rustle of a breeze agitating the leaves had the desired effect, and this time Mary managed to absorb herself in her work. So much so that she started violently when she heard someone approach. She turned and smiled when she realised it was Paul. He too clutched a sketchbook.
‘May I join you?’ he asked, sounding tentative.
‘Please. I was not aware that you enjoyed sketching.’
‘I find it relaxing, but I am not in your league.’
Mary laughed. ‘There is nothing particularly special about my abilities. My family are just kind enough to heap praise upon my efforts, that’s all.’
Mary agreed to let Paul stay because she was too polite to tell him that she preferred to work alone. But when he didn’t attempt to engage her in conversation, instead concentrating upon his own work, she found his undemanding presence soothing.
‘May I see?’ she asked, when Paul sighed and put his pencil aside.
‘If you promise to be honest.’
He turned his pad to face her and she gasped. ‘But that’s wonderful! You deceived me. You told me you simply dabbled, but it is clear that you are far more proficient than I shall ever be.’ She pouted. ‘How discouraging.’
‘I’m not sure about that. I had ideas once of making a living as a portraitist, but…well, things did not turn out quite as planned.’ He lifted one shoulder. Mary hadn’t noticed quite how broad his shoulders were before; nor had she been aware of the fetching cleft in his chin and the sharp cut to his cheekbones. So much for an artist’s observant eye, she thought with a wry smile. ‘Life seldom does.’
‘I don’t know the particulars,’ Mary replied, abandoning her own sketch and giving Paul her full attention, ‘but I have always sensed that you gave up a great deal for Luke’s sake, and Lord Hardwick’s, too.’
He shot her a sharp look. ‘Whatever makes you say that?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I am not privy to any dark secrets. It’s just that I remember so well how upset Luke was just before Lord Hardwick’s accident.’ She chuckled at Paul’s horrified expression. ‘I was still a child at the time and things were said in front of me, as though I was too young to understand them. That was most likely true. Then.’ She paused. ‘But looking back, and taking into account recent developments, it all makes more sense.’
Paul quirked a brow. ‘Recent developments?’
‘Lord Hardwick’s miraculous resurrection, of course.’
‘But that isn’t…’ Paul’s words trailed off. ‘How did you know?’
‘I am not a complete simpleton, Paul. Lord Hardwick fell from two floors up. Had he survived, then I dare say he would be permanently crippled.’ She flapped one hand in dismissal of his obvious concerns. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to explain and I am perfectly willing to carry on pretending that your friend is in fact the marquess’s French nephew.’
‘You are very astute, and have guessed the truth. I cannot tell you everything. Suffice it to say there was a lady involved.’
Mary nodded, biting her lip to hold back a smile. ‘I thought there might have been.’
‘A lady with a very jealous husband who didn’t take kindly to sharing his wife’s favours, and who was ready to ruin the marquess’s good name. It transpires that the marquess anticipated his son’s death in order to appease said jealous husband and save his reputation, but only because he had been told there wasn’t the least chance of Archie recovering.’
‘Good heavens!’
‘To be fair, we none of us assumed that Archie could possibly have survived his injuries.’ Paul stared off into the distance. ‘Goodness knows who was in the coffin that we carried into church. We only discovered ourselves back in the spring that he had been alive all this time.’
‘You need to be careful. If I have guessed the truth, it stands to reason that others will be curious about the sudden emergence of a badly injured nephew.’
