Page 20 of Loving Mister Stratford
The earl grunted in amusement and snapped his paper open once more.“It looks as if the lawn may live to see another day,” he muttered with muted humor.
Odette tried not to allow her deflation to show on her face. She’d been looking forward to spending time out of doors—something she’d had little occasion to do in London, even less so with the opportunity to take in the fresh air of the country. The game would also have afforded a less formal setting to better get to know her new family…and (hopefully) her husband-to-be.
“The weather should clear and the lawn will dry in no time,” Lily chimed in cheerfully stark contrast to the darkening skies outside.“The weather can be quite fickle in this part of the country.”
Odette nodded as if she had any real knowledge of weather trends outside of London and the little corner of Essex where she’d attended boarding school. The extent of her travels led only far enough away for her mother to relinquish responsibility, but not far enough where Odette ever forgot the looming threat of a visit...if her mother ever took the time to leave the theater, that was.
“What do you do for entertainment, Miss Leroy?” Shefford inquired after he’d polished off yet another crisp link of savory sausage.
Odette replaced her cup of coffee on its saucer.“Oh, not a great deal. I read quite a bit.”
A smile split his handsome features, softening his eyes and making him appear kinder, younger.“Now I understand the draw you’ve had on Simon. Never could get him interested in other activities once he’d discovered the written word.
“And what sorts of activities are those?”
Shefford inclined his head.“The usual sorts: hunting, fishing, shooting, riding. You don’t ride, do you?”
She shook her head in reply.“I have never had the occasion to learn, unfortunately.”
“Should you like to learn one day, you need only ask,” Lily interjected with a grin.“Jeremy has always been an accomplished horseman—he taught me how to ride when I was a girl. We’re working on improving the stock in the stables at Rosehall in the hopes of diversifying. The Shefford Barony has long been largely agrarian and heavily reliant upon sheep husbandry, but times are changing.”
“Fascinating!” Odette replied sincerely. This was like a glimpse behind the curtain of a lord’s estate, something to which she’d never thought to be privy. Not that she’d ever been particularly interested in the workings of such responsibilities, but it was a whole world outside of her limited realm of knowledge and experience. She’d likely have been fascinated if he’d wanted to discuss the correlation between crop yield and different types of fertilizer.
“We like to think so.” Shefford beamed at his wife before turning back to Odette.“The stables here at Bridleton are quite notable and I’ve been angling to gain access to them by marrying into the Stratford family.” The wink of his eye was undeniably charming.
The earl harrumphed from behind his newspaper,“If you think marrying my daughter is sufficiently endearing to allow access to Bridleton horses as breeding stock, then you’ve another thing coming.”
“They jest,” Meredith leaned in and whispered with a conspiratorial grin.“Shefford and his parents were longtime friends of the Stratfords. The earl is like a second father to him.”
Odette gave her a grateful smile for the explanation. What must it be like to fall into such an easy rhythm with other people? To be comfortable enough to laugh and jest in such a manner? No veiled motives or barely concealed insults?
“George might have something to say about that,” Shefford grinned.
“Oh?” The earl lowered his paper once more, but his tone was one more of interest than skepticism.
“He’s decided he needs a project,” Meredith spoke up.“Personally, I think it could be a very lucrative venture, indeed.”
“Well,” chuckled the earl;“with your faculty for numbers, my dear, it must be an interesting venture, indeed.”
Odette sat back and soaked in the warmth of the banter surrounding her. As she sipped her coffee and nibbled on her eggs (which were delicious beyond all reason, by the way), she tried not to watch the ticking of the minute hand on the small clock set atop the nearby mantle. Minutes passed and still, there was no sign nor mention of Simon’s absence.
In fact, Odette didn’t see Simon for the better part of three more days.
Three days, she resided beneath the same roof, trapped indoors thanks to the unfortunately persistent drizzle that consistently threatened to become something more unpleasant, and still, she saw neither hide nor hair of the man whom she was to marry in just over one week.
While initially accepting of Simon’s curious behavior, the Stratfords and Balfours appeared to gradually grow more uneasy with each passing day and every meal he didn’t attend, seeming to have abandoned his future bride to the care of his family.
To their credit, they did their level best to continue to make sure Odette felt welcome and wanted—despite Simon’s odd behavior.
She was regularly invited to play cards, though she now understood why Sommerfeld had refused to allow his wife to gamble in earnest; the woman’s faculty with games and numbers was unparalleled. She was given a tour of the more notable rooms of Bridleton and eventually learned how to make her way to the library, where she was allowed free rein of anything that drew her fancy. She ate all of her meals with the family and came to know their different senses of humor. She was introduced to Lily and Shefford’s sons, Vincent and Edward, and spent a few hours each day with the rest of the family as they played with the young boys, usually culminating in uproarious laughter. Nothing, however, filled the void left by Simon’s absence. To say it felt odd to get to know her new family without the bridegroom in attendance—knowing he was, in fact, still under the same roof, but hidden away in some far-flung room—was an understatement.
She was wandering the halls following breakfast one morning, testing her slowly growing knowledge of the house and a bit of the grounds in between temperamental cloud showers, when she stumbled upon what appeared to be the family chambers. She might have passed the ivory ladies’sitting room and its mostly closed door had she not heard a sniffle from within. Odette froze in a moment of indecision—not wanting to tread where she didn’t belong—but her decision was made for her when she heard a gentle sob of someone trying to conceal their pain.
Odette held her breath and pressed open the door and it swung on quiet hinges to reveal Meredith. She wore a white morning gown decorated in embroidered blue irises and lacey baby’s breath and was curled up on a chaise, her red head in her hands providing a glowing centerpiece to the room.
“I—I’m so sorry for intruding, but are you alright?”
Meredith’s head whipped up and she held a hopelessly crumpled handkerchief to her face.“Odette!” She took a shaky breath and tried to paste a wobbly smile on her lips. Sommerfeld’s normally composed, confident wife being the one in such a state was more than a little surprising.
