As the countrysidestirred to life, Rockford’s determination carried him home. Meanwhile, across town, Lora woke to a far less focused morning.
She had tossed and turned throughout the night, her mind racing with thoughts of the charity event and, more persistently, Rockford. Each time she closed her eyes, their conversations, his intense gaze, and the way he genuinely cared about the clinic replayed in her mind. The clinic. Who was she fooling, certainly not herself? The excitement for the event was second to her growing feelings for Rockford.
By the time she finally drifted off to sleep, dawn was already breaking. She awoke with a start, realizing she had overslept. Panicked, she dressed quickly, her thoughts muddled from the lack of sleep.
Looking into her mirror, it was Rockford’s image that looked back at her. He stood tall and confident, with his dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that could charm the birds from the tree. Yesterday at tea, he was intense yet kind, always understanding more than he told you. There was a softness in how he looked at her, a gentleness that made her heart race.
She remembered the warmth of his hand at her waist when they danced or when he tucked her hand in his arm. She closed her eyes and conjured up him stroking her… Her eyes flew open.
His dedication to the clinic was undeniable, but his unspoken care for her left her breathless. The way he listened, truly listened to her ideas and concerns, made her feel seen and valued.
Every glance he cast her way, every fleeting touch, sent a thrill through her, stirring emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was drawn to his strength and vulnerability, the complexity of his character that he revealed in quiet moments. He was becoming someone she deeply cared for and couldn’t stop thinking about.
She finished dressing, and a knock sounded on her door as she reached for her gloves.
“Come in.” She turned as Anna, her maid, entered with a small, ornate box.
“This just arrived for you, my lady.”
Lora took the box, her curiosity piqued. She opened the lid, and a faint yet distinct aroma of lemon and smoke mingled with the scent of silk that wrapped a delicate porcelain figurine of a woman in a flowing gown holding a bouquet of lavender flowers. She glanced into the box and found the accompanying note.
Dear Lady Lora,
I heard about your upcoming event and wanted to send a token of my admiration for your tireless efforts and dedication.
Warmest regards,
Hastings
Lora’s brows furrowed as she traced the delicate figurine with her fingertips. It was undeniably beautiful, yet something about it unsettled her. The figurine’s perfect elegance felt too calculated, too deliberate. She set the gift and note aside, avague unease prickling at the edges of her thoughts. “Thank you, Anna.”
Anna placed the morning correspondence on Lora’s desk.
As she climbed into the cabin and began the ride to Harriet’s estate, her thoughts drifted back to Hasting’s gift. It was beautiful and extravagant, more than she would have expected. Hastings had been particularly attentive, and she couldn’t help but wonder about his motives. Was he simply being kind, or was there a calculated purpose behind his gesture?
She had Harriet to thank for her discomfort, warning her that the man might be more interested in her trust than in her.
The ride to Harriet’s estate was peaceful, and little by little, her mind settled. By the time she arrived, she decided to keep her guard up and trust her instincts.
The footman ushered her into the cozy breakfast room that looked out at the garden.
“Lora. Good morning,” Harriet exclaimed, kissing her cheek. When she pulled away, Harriet took a long look at her. “Good heavens, Lora, you look exhausted!” Harriet exclaimed. “Have you not slept at all?”
Lora tried to smile reassuringly. “I’m fine, Harriet. Really.”
But Harriet wasn’t convinced. “You don’t look fine. Something’s clearly troubling you. I could put something a bit stronger into your tea if you like.”
Lora sighed and sat down. “That won’t be necessary. It’s Hastings,” she lied. She dare not mention anything about Rockford. “And then there was his gift…”
Harriet’s brow furrowed. “A gift? What kind of gift?”
“An extravagant one,” Lora replied. “Too extravagant. And there’s his offer to help with funding the clinic expansion. It’s unsettling.”
Harriet leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm. “Lora, trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Perhaps it’s time to speak directly with Hastings.”
“Perhaps I will. I’m too tired to think at the moment,” Lora replied, putting the serviette on her lap. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something important.”
“Of course,” Harriet asked, pouring them both tea.
