“You don’t seem to mind my concern.”
“I understand it. There were moments when I first learned of Arthur’s existence, that I felt too … connected to him. He is Martin’s son.”
She hesitated, as if she was about to tell him about her son who’d died, and then changed her mind. He was surprised to feel sorrow because she didn’t want to share her private pain with him—but he hadn’t shared his secrets either.
“I even considered making him my ward, giving him the education Martin should have given him. But then I realized that Louisa was actually afraid of my involvement—that the whole family feared I could take him away. That was a power I’d never had before, and I felt sickened that I didn’t initially see how wrong it was. I was shocked back into realizing I couldn’t live my life through other people.”
“You don’t need to do that, Audrey. Live your life with me, and we can have our own children.”
To his surprise, she gave him an enigmatic, even flirtatious smile. “We’ll talk later. I have guests to prepare for just now.”
As he escorted her back to the house, Robert felt a renewed sense of hope. She’d made love with him, and she hadn’t denied his desire to marry her. He felt like everything he’d ever wanted—the family he’d never truly had—would finally be his.
Audrey had never imaginedhow wonderful it would be to be a hostess to the people who depended on her just as she depended on them. She owned the land, but they had the labor to make it fertile, and she was so grateful to be able to show her thanks, and her promise of a long partnership in the future.
Her puppy, Victor, spent much of the afternoon with her as she moved from pavilion to pavilion, table to table. Sometimes Blythe was with her, other times Robert, and she heard in the voices of her tenants the gratitude at having a new landlord who cared, the promise of future stability. And it wasn’t just because of Robert and his title, but her own belief, her own desire to be a part of this community.
Even Mr. Sanford sounded proud, and she knew that at last she’d won the trust of her servants, and she returned that trust in kind.
Blythe was more grown-up and gracious than Audrey had ever dared to hope, mingling with people of a different station than her own, but still winning them over with her charm and genuine joy, something Audrey had never heard in all the long years they’d lived together—no, that wasn’t true. Blythe’s unhappiness had only evolved since their mother’s death and their father’s conviction like a stain upon the family that Audrey was too embarrassing to ever be seen. It seemed like a dream to her now, an ugly dream soon forgotten, now that the world had opened up to her.
And then there was Robert, moving smoothly between the Blackthornes and the meekest shepherd with equal ease. She had never imagined she would find a man to bring her happiness—and it was because of Martin she’d even met him. But sheglowed with an inner fire when she was near him, could not stop smiling up at him, and accepted his hand whenever he reached for her. Their engagement was becoming real, and she felt so blessed and happy.
All she’d have to do was say the magic words, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and her new life would spread out before her, with a loving husband and perhaps the children she’d been afraid to hope for.
It all came down to trust, and at last, she was starting to believe he was trustworthy.
That evening, after the grounds had been restored to pristine gardens and parkland, her grateful tenants had gone home with full bellies, and she entered her own home with a full heart. She moved quietly through the kitchens, where only Mrs. Sanford checked on the banked fire and wished her a good night.
“Mrs. Blake, would you like a candle to guide your way?” the housekeeper called as Audrey moved toward the front of the house.
Audrey turned back and grinned. “Thanks, but no.”
Where once Mrs. Sanford would have been mortified by her gaffe, now she simply chuckled through her apology.
The other servants and Blythe had already gone to bed, and Audrey couldn’t help wondering if Robert and the Blackthornes had also retired. With Blythe and the married couple in attendance, it had seemed acceptable to allow Robert to remain as well.
She found herself wishing she could sneak into his room, knowing that in her small manor, it would be too noticeable. But a girl could dream …
And then she heard male voices in the drawing room and slowed to a stop. She didn’t want to interrupt if?—
“I’m going to tell her the truth, Michael,” Robert was saying.
Audrey froze, a knot of worry unfurling inside her. She almost went up the stairs, telling herself it was none of her business, but she was a stronger woman than that now.
She reached for the door, found it partially closed, and pushed inside. The silence was deafening, but for the tick-ticking of the coal settling in the grate.
“What truth do you wish to tell me, Robert?” she asked in a cool voice.
“You can leave us, Michael,” Robert said impassively.
“Good night, Audrey,” Michael murmured as he went by.
Although she nodded, she didn’t spare another thought for him, simply walked slowly toward where she believed Robert was standing. “Well?”
“I have two things to tell you,” he began at last.
His voice was more somber than she’d ever heard before, and it gave her a sick twist of fear. She’d been so happy—had it all been a lie?
