“Not at all, Miss Meyer. On the contrary,Imust apologize for keepingyou. Your fascinating imaginative powers made for the most wonderful entertainment. And…” he hesitated, “I suppose you would think me mad for suggesting this, but perhaps we could do this again at another—”
He stopped talking as they both noticed a light appear from inside the kitchen, which was bad news for both of them. He and Meredith exchanged alarmed glances; she could tell from his expression that they were both thinking the same thing.
How on earth were they supposed to get back inside now without people receiving the wrong impression?
Chapter 15
Anthony woke up and reached for his pocket watch on his bedside table. It told him that it was now a quarter past noon. So he had missed breakfast. He sat upright and let the hazy memories slowly drift back into his mind.
Was it all just a dream? Have I imagined running into Miss Meyer in the garden last night? Did I really ever leave this room at all?
Anthony’s eyes fell on his writing desk, where Fletcher had left him a now cold breakfast. As he rubbed his eyes, he noticed a cut on the side of his middle finger and smiled.
So it wasn’t a dream after all.
When he and Miss Meyer saw the light in the kitchen, they immediately took cover behind some bushes.
Obviously, they had no reason to be hiding, but they neither of them were fools. They knew that no matter how earnestly they explained themselves, no one would believe that they had run into each other in the garden purely by chance. Almost everyone would have assumed that they had somehow arranged to meet each other beforehand.
So hunched behind the thorn bushes, the two of them devised a plan. Anthony had realized that he had closed his study, but had—thankfully—forgotten to lock it before going to bed last night.
So with the shrubs as their cover, the two of them had made their way towards the eastern garden. But as they darted towards the designated window, the side of Anthony’s right-hand middle finger got caught by a thorn and it cut him rather nastily. He had to use all of his strength to avoid swearing in front of Miss Meyer.
At the window at last, he opened it for her and kept a look-out as she climbed into the study first. Once they were both inside, he ever so quietly unlocked the study door. They were quite fortunate that he always wore the study key around his neck.
The study was adjoined to the library, which was always left unlocked. So with the study ajar, he watched her seize her chance to sneak out of the library. He then waited a good five minutes after she had left the before he, too, made his way up the stairs and fell on his bed.
So last night was real. Magically real.
Anthony sat at his desk. Even the sight of the stale, untouched breakfast couldn’t dampen his mood, for he was seeing everything differently now. He wondered what Miss Meyer was doing right this very minute.
He now understood that she was not merely an acquaintance to him any longer. She was an ally. When Kenneth and Colin weren’t around, Miss Meyer would be the next best person to understand Anthony.
* * *
The past few days had been incredible for Cecilia. Ever since they had discovered the kitten in the kitchen about two weeks ago, she had gone to the stables on a daily basis to check on them. Brother said that she was only allowed to keep one for herself, and of course she had selected the brown tabby one.
She had then announced that she would name it Daisy, which Brother immediately objected to since he claimed it, “Made no sense.” However, Miss Meyer had interjected and sided with Cecilia.
As she skipped towards the stables this lovely Sunday morning, she reflected on the past two weeks. Brother had kept his promise to spend more time with her.
In fact, he had sat in for quite a number of her lessons. He even had Miss Meyer join them for luncheon—or if he was unavailable, then for tea—every day just so that Cecilia wouldn’t feel awkward.
As she entered the stable, she was surprised to see Anthony already there.
“Brother? Are you going somewhere?”
“Oh, I just felt like riding around the estate, Cecilia. Would you care to join me?”
“But I do not have a horse, Brother.”
“What do you mean? We’re surrounded by horses right now. Surely at least one of these must belong to you.”
Oliver—one of the stable boys—cut in, “Beg your pard’n, Your Grace. But ‘cept for your steed Bumble, these ‘orses are for the coaches.”
Cecilia folded her arms as if to silently say,See? I told you so.
Taken aback, Anthony exclaimed, “Goodness! I wasn’t aware that you were without a horse for all of this time, Cecilia. I’m sorry.”
