Sally
It had worked. Her harsh words had actually managed to wake him up. Sally could hardly believe it as she rushed out of the house to meet him. Perhaps Kenneth did say something to him, but even if he did, Leonard did not have to agree. But he had. She had to believe her words had had an impact.
She burst out into the sunshine and saw him standing a few paces away, hands in his pockets as he looked out over the expanse before them.
“Ready?” he asked when he saw her.
“Ready,” she replied, and then, he proffered her his arm, a gesture she found so shocking she had to take a moment to regain her composure. He’d been all but hiding from her, and now he was offering his arm? This man was a walking problem. Still, as she took his arm and they set off to stroll through the estate, she noted how the servants looked their way with smiles - as if they believed their ruse. As if to them, they looked like a couple in love indeed.
If only it were true...
A jolt went through Sally. What was she thinking? If only it were true. Had she lost her mind? She and Leonard would never be anything other than ... companions of sorts. Certainly not lovers. Yet, as she walked next to him, she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to be with him, to feel his warmth.
If only he would talk a little more...
“The gardens are lovely,” she started, not wanting to allow an awkward silence to ruin her progress. Nor did she want to allow her mind to continue her way of thinking.
“They are entirely my mother’s work,” he said, pointing at the manicured lawns stretched out before them, framed by towering trees whispered in the gentle breeze. Magnificent gardens bloomed with vibrant colors, and in the distance, she could see the shimmering surface of a tranquil lake.
“She spent hours in the garden,” he explained. “I think they gave her comfort. I never really noticed how much time she spent in them until she was gone.”
Sally drew her eyebrows together. Why would his mother need comfort? She recalled something similar Mary had said earlier in the morning - about the Duchess’s harsh fate. Or unfortunate fate? She could not recall the exact words, but she remembered wondering what could have been so hard on the Duchess, whom she’d always heard referred to as a lovely and kind woman. There was but one thing she could think of.
“Your father’s death must have been hard for her. It is good she had such a sanctuary,” she said but felt at once she’d made a mistake because Leonard’s shoulders tensed.
“She always used to...Perhaps, you are right,” he replied, and she felt him withdrawing again as if whatever she’d said had made him want to retreat once more into silence and indifference. Quickly, she changed the subject to something less dangerous.
“So, tell me about Lord Finch,” she prompted. “He seemed familiar, but I could not quite place him.”
Leonard glanced at her, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes at the sudden shift in conversation. “Ah, yes, Aaron. I do not think you would have met him. His family resides up north most of the year. He only relocated to town three years ago or so. I myself did not become friendly with him until just after my father died,” he began. “Our fathers were business partners until Aaron’s father passed away. We lost touch for many years, but he reappeared after my father’s death to offer his condolences.”
“That was very kind of him,” Sally nodded, listening intently as Leonard continued. “We reconnected, and Aaron eventually joined the business,” he explained. “It’s been a blessing having him on board, especially with all the matters I’ve had to attend to since my father’s passing. Truly, I never was interested much in vineyards, but now it takes up most of my time.”
“And Aaron is more familiar with them?” she asked, glad they had found a topic they could discuss without pitfalls.
“No, he is not either, but he knows all the merchants. The wine merchants in town trust him, and he has contacts in all the large cities.” He glanced at her, the sun reflecting in his lovely eyes, and that feeling from earlier, the wish that this might be real after all, resurfaced before she could push it away. “That is, in part, why I am away so often. I must visit the vineyards.” He said it with such force, almost as if he needed to convince her. No, not her. There was more to it... But what?
Sally furrowed her brow, recalling their earlier conversation in the study about the spoilt wine. “Did you manage to resolve the issue with the wine? You said one of the wines at the vineyard was spoilt.”
Leonard nodded, a hint of relief crossing his features. “Oh, no. Unfortunately, it seems like a loss.”
“A loss? But why? Can’t anything be done to save it? It seems such a shame to waste wine. Pray, what happened exactly?” she asked, eager now to learn more.
Leonard hesitated as if he wasn’t sure if she was truly interested, but then pressed on. “The wine oxidized,” he began, “that means ...”
“... the wine has been exposed to air, causing it to lose its flavor and freshness,” she interjected.
Leonard blinked in surprise, impressed by her knowledge. “You know about wine?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in genuine astonishment.
Sally shrugged modestly. “I did some reading while you were with Aaron,” she admitted. “I wanted to understand more about your business. You seemed concerned about the matter.” Truthfully, she hadn’t been sure if his concern was due to the wine or her presence in the study, but she’d decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
A small smile tugged at Leonard’s lips as he regarded her with newfound admiration. “Well, I’m impressed,” he confessed. “I tried to tell my mother about the process but she would not hear of it. In fact, she only drank sherry and brandy - never wine.”
“Ah, I am fond of a good sherry also, but I favor wine. Say, couldn’t you try blending the spoiled wine with a younger one, or perhaps decant it?” she suggested, eager to offer a solution.
Leonard’s expression softened as he considered her idea. “We already tried that,” he admitted. “But it didn’t yield the desired results.”
Undeterred, Sally pondered aloud. “What about sweetening it or using herbal additives to salvage it?” she proposed, her mind racing with possibilities. “I read about these methods in one of your books in the library, and I actually remember drinking an infused wine - it tasted like blackcurrant. Rather delicious.”
