“But you are not alone, George. There are those who love and support you. You need never carry the burden by yourself.”
Lucy realized she might have said more than she meant to. George was staring at the painting, and the only sound was the hissing of the lamp as it burned.
“If I…” she started to say, but then held her tongue.
George suddenly looked very tired. His face was dark after a long day. He would need to shave before the morning if he wanted to look presentable to the departing guests.
“I think I must go,” she said rising from the desk. “I will attend to her Grace one more day, and then I shall try and return to my writing which I have neglected since your father’s death. Not out of duty but for my own grief.”
As she passed by behind George, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. But he turned to her, took hold of her wrist to stop her leaving and stared at her with such a look of longing.
“Lucy, my darling… you have been such a consolation in these terrible times. How can I express how much you mean to me? How can I ever repay your caring efforts to support this family?”
And in one swift motion, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on each eye.
Lucy was startled and pulled back.
“I am so sorry. I should not have done that,” he said, also pulling away. “Forgive me. But I was overcome with… gratitude.”
Lucy, in her own agitation, could not help but wonder if he meant even more.
They continued staring silently at each other for a moment or two before Lucy pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and left.
Chapter 31
The next morning required George’s full attention as the guests breakfasted and began leaving. But all the while, his mind was churning with the difficult decision which faced him. What to do about Harold until he knew the full verifiable facts about the man’s past? And he needed to make a decision almost immediately as Harold found him at the manor entrance bidding farewell to a handful of guests.
“Your Grace, when you have a moment, I should like to take up our discussion about your offer.”
“Yes, yes,” he said distractedly. “Perhaps after lunch. By then the guests should be gone, and we can begin to look forward to the future.”
Harold smiled. “That will be fine. Until then I shall be directing the farm hands on what needs to be done today.”
“Thank you,” George said and returned to the departing guests.
Most of the guests had departed by ten o’clock, and George instructed Stevens to attend to the remaining few.
His mother had not shown herself at breakfast—which he expected. His sisters were anxiously awaiting Madame Hortense to help them choose their mourning day dresses, and he had not seen Lucy yet this morning. But he could not get their encounter last night out of his mind. What had he been thinking—kissing her like that?
Of course, he had every intention of asking her to marry him. But for now, that was an impossibility. Not only must he observe at least a year of mourning but there was the situation with her brother. And not knowing how that would turn out, he had no idea what Harold and Lucy might decide to do if Harold was dismissed and asked to leave Grayson Manor.
But he had come to one decision. He must speak with Betsy. He needed to know her feelings for Harold and what, if any, plans they may be considering. The very last thing he wanted to do was dash Betsy’s hopes for happiness.
George did not want to summon her to his study. It seemed to be such a formal setting. It is where their father had called them when they were in trouble and still had all the wrong connotations associated with it. Even George still felt a little anxious as he approached the dreaded chamber each time he needed to go there.
He knocked on Betsy’s door. She called for him to enter.
“Oh, it is you, Brother. I am just on my way to meet with the dressmaker—as wemustwear the dreadful mourning dresses.”
Please, let me chat with you a moment first. I am certain your sisters will occupy the dressmaker’s full attention until you arrive.”
Betsy gave a little laugh. “Very well, Brother, ask me what you will,” she said sitting on her settee and offering George the chair opposite.
“My darling sister, it has become obvious to me that you and Harold are courting. I saw the two of you holding hands yesterday at the reception. Does that mean you and he are serious about each other?”
Betsy’s face lit up. “Oh, Georgie, you have no idea how blissful it is to be with him. He lavishes the most delicate attention on me whenever we are able to be together and converse. He is such a gentleman, and we talk endlessly about how heavenly it would be to be together always.”
“Then he has proposed to you?”
