Page 30 of Sensibly Wed

Chapter10

The following morning was sunny and cloudless, and I took extra time in my room to attempt a more intricate hairstyle than the simple knot I typically wore. I twisted pieces of hair and gathered sections together, but nothing appeared in the mirror as I’d imagined in my mind.

It was hopeless. I was hopeless and bound to appear a dowdy simpleton beside Lady Edith and her effortless elegance. Surely, she would not want to take me into Bakewell appearing like a governess.

I puffed a hair away from my forehead and groaned. There was nothing for it. I would need to put my hair up in the way I knew how and await the maid Lady Edith intended to select for me. I could only hope I would not be an embarrassment to my new family in the meantime.

It would be a blessed relief when my parents arrived in a fortnight and brought a sense of normalcy with them. I was already working on my arguments to convince them to stay longer than the few weeks they intended to stay.

Once my hair was secured in a knot, a few tendrils left loose beside my temples that would not fit into the bun, I donned my green muslin dress and pulled on my slippers. The gown was one of my nicer day dresses, and it was the best I could do without sporting evening wear in the morning.

Windows along the corridor outside of my room were opened to the morning light. I tried to retrace the steps I had taken with Lady Edith the day before, but quickly found myself lost. The house was a veritable maze, and within a quarter of an hour I found myself exactly where I’d started, but with no clear idea of how I had gotten there. I had even used a set of stairs at one point.

A moment’s temptation begged me to knock on James’s door and ask him to direct me to the parlor for breakfast, but I did not wish to wake him if he was still asleep. I would try to find my own way one more time.

I walked down the corridor and turned, exactly as I thought I had with Lady Edith, and ran directly into a man.

“Oh, forgive me!” I stepped back, pressing my hands to my midsection.

Henry stood apart from me, his curly, brown hair in disarray and his blue eyes on me. “There is nothing to forgive. I should have watched where I was walking.”

I glanced down to find a book in his hand, his thumb pressed between the pages. “I can well and truly understand the desire to continue reading after reaching a pivotal moment in the story, Mr. Bradwell. It was I who should not have turned the corner so swiftly.”

He looked past my shoulder and then at my hands, seemingly unable to rest his gaze on my face. “Were you heading toward the breakfast parlor?”

“That was my goal.”

“Then allow me to direct you.” He gestured behind me. “You were going the wrong way.”

“Ah, of course.” My cheeks burned, and I stepped aside to allow him to walk beside me. We retraced my previous steps and passed my chamber, turning down the opposite corridor and finding the entrance to the wide stairs there.

I had been turned completely around. “I feel I shall never learn my way about.”

“You shall. We can post footmen in every corridor if you feel the need, though.”

I glanced up sharply, but the twinkle in his eye exposed his jest. “I will let you know if that becomes necessary.”

We traveled to the breakfast room in silence, and Henry paused at the entrance. The room was empty, though a sideboard sat against the wall teeming with covered dishes. Henry indicated that I should precede him into the room, and I stepped forward.

We gathered our plates and filled them in silence before carrying them to the round table in the center of the room.

Henry pulled a chair out for me and sat in the seat beside mine, laying his book down beside his plate. “Are your parents well?”

I took great care in slicing my stewed tomato to give myself something to focus on. Could he not have sat across from me in order to give me space to breathe? Or perhaps that would have felt more odd and pointed than this close proximity.

What had he asked? Oh, my parents. “Yes, they are both in good health. Though my father has mentioned returning to your hunting lodge a handful of times since last summer.”

“Had I been there to receive him, he would have been most welcome.”

“You better not say as much when he arrives in a fortnight, or you will find him finagling an invitation out of you.”

Henry laughed. “Perhaps I will suggest it, and we can escape for a week or so. Benedict is always looking for a reason to go to Sedwick Lodge, so I am certain he would be happy to join us.”

“You wish to escape?” I asked, popping a bite of tomato in my mouth.

Henry’s gaze fell to my mouth and quickly looked away.

“I wonder if it will perhaps become necessary,” he said quietly. He fidgeted with the kippers on his plate and cleared his throat. “The heat can sometimes become unbearable in June, and there are so many trees at Sedwick, so it is much cooler. Though I admit I would prefer a warm summer to the deluge of rain we endured last year.”