Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Edward
The viscount had not been in the best of health when I arrived at Kenwick, but for the past three days, I had been unable to meet with him at all.
Lady Paxton informed me each morning that her husband was not well and needed rest. I offered my sympathies and understanding, and with each passing day, worry gripped me more.
What if he did not recover? What was I to do then?
Our agreement was verbal. To my knowledge, nothing had yet been put on paper, though Lord Paxton had promised he would speak to his man of business about doing so.
I’d seen no reason to rush a contract, given that I wasn’t the most optimistic I could convince Annette to marry me.
That problem, of course, paled in comparison to the forthcoming grief I would experience.
The viscount had taken me under his wing, and the thought of losing him sent a pang through my soul.
I could only imagine how his family must feel.
How Annette must feel.
I’d not seen her beyond mealtimes since our tour of The Towers.
Her avoidance was not subtle, as she refused to remain in the same room as me if she could help it.
Twice, I had noticed her walking through the gardens and attempted to join her, but I never could locate her despite racing out of the house to do so.
Where did she run off to?
What was more, I had made no progress regarding Hollinsby and Adda. If the man was living at Willowbrook Manor, then he had mastered the art of hiding. I rarely saw so much as a servant leave the house. The entire thing frustrated me.
My frustration eased, however, when Lady Paxton informed me during breakfast that her husband was feeling much better and had requested I meet with him.
As I climbed the staircase in the vestibule, I tried to push the challenges before me aside.
There were things I needed to discuss with Lord Paxton regarding them, yes, but his health mattered more to me than anything.
Perhaps today was best left to shallow conversation.
I knocked on his door, and his strong response to enter surprised me. That, at least, was a good sign.
“Edward,” he said, his lips curling into a grin. “I’ve missed you. Come in, come in.”
He gestured to the chair at his bedside, and I obliged him by taking a seat.
“You are looking well,” I said.
The viscount scoffed. “Well? I doubt that but appreciate your attempt to stroke this sickly old man’s pride. I imagine I appear quite ghastly.”
True, his skin remained pale, but he did look better than I’d yet seen him since my arrival.
“But enough about my appearance. I’m not the one you're wooing.” He patted my shoulder. “How are things going with my Annette?”
I forced a smile. “Perhaps we should keep our discussion—”
“Do not patronize me. I’m not so frail as all that. Tell me.”
I heaved a sigh. “Not well. We were making progress, but I fear I have overstepped. I asked her why she has no wish to marry, thinking the information might help me.” I paused.
Why had I not considered asking her father?
He might know the reason for her reluctance.
“You don’t by chance know why she is so against it, do you? ”
Lord Paxton chuckled. “I do not. She has refused to tell either myself or her mother. Annette has always been independent. Even as a child, she never wished to be coddled. I imagine part of her reluctance simply comes down to her personality.”
“And the other part?”
He shook his head. “I can only give you conjectures, but at times, I have wondered if marriage scares her.”
Scares her? My brows furrowed. “Why would she be afraid to marry?”
The viscount shrugged. “Do let me know should you figure it out.”
“I will, assuming she ever speaks to me again.”
He smirked. “She will. I have no doubt of that.”
How could the man be this confident? I was not sure why Lord Paxton believed so strongly that I could convince his daughter—that she would accept me as a suitor—but I wished I could be so optimistic.
“There is another matter I wish to speak to you about,” I said.
“A few days ago, Ann—Miss Apsley—took me on a tour of The Towers. I noticed the east tower may have a view of Willowbrook, but your daughter mentioned it is always locked. I thought perhaps you might allow me to see if the upper room would provide an observation point, one that did not risk my trespassing onto Hollinsby’s land. ”
The viscount frowned. “I’m afraid I will have to disappoint you. The tower may provide an opportune viewpoint. I cannot say, as I’ve not been up there in some time. But I do not have the key.”
“You do not?” I continued when he shook his head. “Might one of the servants remove the door? With your permission, of course. I’m certain the local blacksmith could construct a new lock. Replace the door.”
“Yes, he could, but the tower is not mine to offer.”
What did he mean by that?
Lord Paxton, having watched my expression twist with confusion, smiled. “The key is not missing. I’ve simply given use of the tower to someone indefinitely.”
“And this someone…would they allow me use of the window?”
“The odds are nearly zero.” He settled against his pillows with a sigh. “I am sorry, Edward. I cannot help you with this. It is far too delicate a matter.”
Delicate? I wanted to press for more information, but Lord Paxton closed his eyes, and I feared overtaxing him.
I trusted the man, and if he said using the tower was impossible, I believed him.
Disappointed, I stood and bid him good day.
It seemed that, where his daughter and Hollinsby were concerned, I was still on my own.
Deciding to spend the afternoon scouting Willowbrook, I took the stairs down to the vestibule.
I’d made it halfway to the bottom when a knock sounded at the door.
The butler opened it and quickly stepped aside.
A man with sandy blonde hair and travel-mussed clothing barrelled into the castle.
His skin was lightly tanned, and something in his features was familiar.
He sucked in a breath, grinning as though pleased. His gaze wandered the room until it fell on me, and his brows puckered. “Who are you?”
I descended the remainder of the stairs, both curious of and irritated by his impertinence. “Lieutenant Edward Paget.”
His expression relaxed. “Ah. We’ve never met, but Father has spoken of your family often.”
“Father?”
He nodded and extended a hand to me. “Jack Apsley.”
No wonder he looked familiar. Jack Apsley shared similar facial features with his elder, twin brothers—a sharp jawline and strong Roman nose.
His eyes were slightly hooded, much like Apsley’s, and a few light freckles dotted his cheeks.
Save for his hair and eye color, he mirrored them completely, though he resembled his younger sister in that regard.
“Are you visiting?” he asked.
“Yes. Your father invited me when he left Town early. I arrived over a week ago.”
His expression sobered. “How is he? My father, I mean.”
“Better than when I arrived. I’m sure having you home will lift his spirits.”
Mr. Apsley scoffed and muttered under his breath. “I highly doubt that.”
It was not my place to question his response, but I would wager he did not get on well with the viscount.
Why, I could only guess. Lord Paxton was a good man who cared deeply for his family.
His desire to ensure Annette’s happiness before he departed this world was evidence of that, even if I was not so sure of his methods.
I had seen the adoring way he interacted with his wife, and he often spoke of his other children with similar affection.
Perhaps Mr. Apsley was merely tired from his travels.
From what I understood, he had been on the continent for the last year.
His return likely came at an urgent request due to his father’s declining health.
Anyone’s mood would suffer under such circumstances.
“Jack!”
The familiar sound of Annette’s voice dusted the inside of my stomach with feathers.
I turned just in time to see her rushing across the room.
She threw herself at her brother, arms encircling his neck in an embrace I was jealous of.
What must it be like to receive such a greeting from her? I was not likely to ever find out.
“It is so good to have you home,” she gushed, squeezing him so tightly he grunted.
Jack patted her back, his smile uncomfortable. “Good to see you, too.”
Annette released him, and before he could recover, she grabbed him by the hand and yanked him forward. “Come. Mother will wish to see you straight away.”
Her brother stumbled forward, muttering about his exhaustion.
Still, he allowed her to guide him toward the drawing room.
I pitied him, for I had experienced the same sort of overwhelming affinity from my family each time I returned from sea.
I owed him my gratitude, though. His arrival had put his sister in an amiable temper.
Perhaps that would work to my advantage.