Page 56 of Hearts of Briarwall

“I’m glad to hear it,” Andrew said. “But I’ll thank you to refrain from feeding anymore tales of ‘Andrew the Great’ to these two.” He motioned to the ladies. “I fear you’ve given them ammunition, which they will use at the most inopportune moment, mark my words.”

“I beg your pardon,” Violet countered. “You can be sure our moments are always perfectly opportune.”

Andrew studied her a moment, then leaned toward Spencer. “Fearsome creatures, are they not?” he asked, a glint in his eye.

Spencer glanced at Lydia once more. “Terrifying.”

Lydia attempted to look serene and womanly.

Violet narrowed her gaze. “Then perhaps now would be a good time to challenge you to a chess match. Andrew, what say you? When was the last time we played?” She was already walking to the small table they often used for the game.

“I forget,” Andrew said, following Violet.

She laughed. “That is because you lost.”

“Then I’m due for a win.”

“We shall see.”

Their banter faded to the other side of the room as Lydia’s stomach tightened. This was not the plan. She grew increasingly aware of Spencer standing near her.DashViolet for abandoning the plan in such a way that instead of giving Spencer time and space, Lydia was now obliged to be attentive to him, and only him.

She clasped her hands in front of her, and Spencer watched the tips of his shoes.

She cleared her throat and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“About this morning—” they both said together.

They both paused and glanced about the room, Spencer squeezing his poor hat between his hands.

“I wish to—” they both attempted again.

This time Spencer huffed out a laugh, and Lydia pressed her cool hand to her warm neck.

“Please,” he said, “continue.”

She could have argued with him, but perhaps it was better to say her piece first. “I apologize for losing my temper. I ought not to have abandoned you on the hill. A gracious host would’ve never done such things.”

“A gracious gentleman would’ve never spoken to a friend—let alone a potential investor—the way I spoke to you.”

His words softened her. “I’d hoped we were friends.” She wasn’t ready to address the other matter—the “potential investor” part of their relationship.

“That is my hope still, Lydia.”

She lifted her head and met his hesitant, hopeful expression.

She nodded slowly. “You only wish me to be careful of my inheritance, am I correct?”

He sighed in relief as he answered. “Yes. Entirely.”

She peeked over at Andrew. He and Violet were focused on their game. She lowered her voice. “I intend to speak to my brother about it. Not for permission, but to explain my plan and hope he understands my intent.” She turned back, surprised to find that Spencer had leaned closer to hear her better; the mingled scent of sunshine on skin, spring wind, and cedar proved intoxicating.

He watched her carefully. “I think that a splendid idea.”

She nodded and looked away, taking in a deep breath. She could do this. She wasn’t hiding. She was behaving as any educated woman of sense and feeling should. “So, you took the Singer for a spin?”

“Yes. It did me good to ... get away for a bit. To be honest, a quiet drive does more to settle my nerves than nearly anything else.”

“I can imagine how a drive in the countryside would be a welcome reprieve from—well—a breakfast gone horribly wrong, for example. I should try it sometime.”

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