“Oh…” Caroline’s expression transformed into one of contemplation, her gaze turning toward the manor. “I did not mean to be a nuisance.”
You did. Do not lie.
“I am not calling you a nuisance,” he said instead, “but if you could cease from now on, I would be grateful. If you can promise me that, I will pick that apple for you.”
Caroline smiled at him. “No, thank you. I no longer have a taste for apples.”
Right there and then, she shuffled off Max’s greatcoat and handed it to him. The misty rain coated her in a slick glaze within seconds, her raven dark hair catching tiny beads that resembled glittering diamonds, her pretty muslin dress beginning to mold to the shape of her.
He hurried to try and put the coat back on her, but she refused.
“I shall have tea with Mrs. Whitlock, I think,” she said, walking off to the manor and letting herself in through one of the nearest French doors.
And as the door closed behind her, and the rain continued to soak right through to Max’s skin, he realized she had given him no answer about leaving him to his work. Indeed, it rather felt like her rejection of the apple meant she had no intention of ceasing her antics.
By the following afternoon, Max’s patience was a thing of the past. Something he remembered having but could no longer grasp.
Rather than intrude on his work as she had been doing with her endless questions and suggestions, Caroline had decided to just remain in his study. She had been there when he had gone to begin his daily duties, seated in an armchair that she must have had someone move into the corner of his sacred space, and could not be encouraged to move.
“I will not be a bit of a bother,” she had told him brightly, waving two thick books in his direction. “I shall just sit here, quiet as a mouse, studying astronomy and botany at my leisure.”
He had been wary, and rightly so.
Within half an hour, she had begun to murmur aloud to herself, not loud enough that he could hear what she was reading, but loud enough to be every bit a bother to him. An hour later, the murmurs had been replaced with gasps of astonishment, each rustling turn of the page riling him.
But then she had quietened, and he had been lulled into a false sense of peace, carrying on with his work and thinking that, actually, it was not so unpleasant to have silent company.
“If I may, husband, have you considered the archway?” she had asked a few hours later.
“I do not think it would be wise,” he had replied absently. “We are unlikely to have any sort of gathering that would require that amount of space, and if we were to, the ballroom would suffice.”
“The ballroom is not fit for purpose,” she countered. “It is falling to pieces.”
“It is crooked,” he corrected. “That is the difficulty with an old manor. Sometimes, things begin to lean.”
She had gone quiet again, but after luncheon, the murmurs and gasps and even some humming had returned. Max bore it as well as he could, telling himself that everyone studied differently. He and Anna liked absolute peace and quiet, but his brother preferred to have company, chatting as he learned.
Though, I wonder if you will keep quiet about this.
He had yet to hear from Dickie, and though he had written to friends in London, asking them to inform him if Dickie surfaced there had been no news there either.
A scream suddenly shivered from the corner of the room, so loud and startling that Max dropped the sheaf of statements that he had been toiling through. They fluttered away from him, spreading in all directions across the floor, swept completely out of order.
“Enough!” Max barked, sweeping stressed hands through his hair.
Caroline jumped at the rebuke. “There was… a spider.”
“What?”
“A spider. It crept out of the pages. I did not mean to scream.”
He cast her a dark look, uncertain of whether to believe her. “Well then, you ought to proceed with knocking an arch through the wall.”
“Pardon?”
“To overcome one’s fear, one must immerse oneself in the fear. The walls are bursting with spiders, Caroline. I shall send for an architect and laborers at once. We cannot delay. By the time it is done, you will be at peace with the spiders, no longer jolting atevery creeping crawl you feel across your skin.” He jumped up. “Come, let us proceed with this together.”
She seemed to shrink into the armchair, but Max felt very little satisfaction. He had not meant to alarm her, but she was maddening, and a man only had so much patience to give. Sometimes, he had to fight fire with fire.
