Chapter Seven
Over the next few days, Navan continued to call on her after the others left the watch house. With Honfleur’s absence, it was basically just him and Kepper overseeing Amgen Place. This evening, he had asked his cook to provide several extra dishes that could be heated on the hearth before serving.
When he had returned on the second day, Miss Moreau had already cleaned the hearth, just as he had instructed. In fact, it was cleaner than it had likely been since the house had been built. “I brought several newspapers to use to start the wood chips,” he told her as he unpacked the baskets.
“I may read them before I use them,” she said as she set the table so they might share a meal. “Not that I would know any of those involved, but it would be good to spend time wondering on how the world continues along its way while I am behind these walls.”
What amazed Navan was she did not speak with rancor.
How could anyone be grateful simply to read about people he did not know?
Despite her life, Miss Moreau was the most optimistic person he had ever encountered, and the idea had him somewhat befuddled by what he had always considered acceptable.
“I told you we could go for a walk. Even if it is just around the square. We are not likely to encounter anyone this time of night.”
She looked to the door, which they had left open “for air,” but, in reality, for her own sense of safety.
He knew she still held a healthy fear of his motives.
Navan would tell her he simply desired her company, but she would not believe him, and neither would he believe the words.
Like it or not, Navan desired her and not simply in a sexual manner.
Her innate goodness had him wishing for more stability in his life.
“Perhaps we could sit in the garden after our meal,” she suggested instead.
“The garden sounds lovely,” he replied, knowing even that concession was a large step for her. Her smile lit up with his response, and he knew satisfaction.
Later, after their meal, they had sat together on a wooden bench, while he pointed out a number of constellations.
Thankfully, that evening, the often-smoke-filled air of London had drifted off towards the eastern shires.
In return, she told him some stories of her journeys.
“We traveled south before returning to the southern part of North America, once nearly to the tip of the lower Americas. My uncle called it the Southern Hemisphere, which I did not understand at the time, but Caroline had been there previously and made her explanations. I was perhaps eight or nine then, and she was two years older. There, we would see the first quarter moon in the shape of a D and the last quarter as a C. Those that far south see the exact opposite of those in England and Europe and the northern part of the Americas. Even the full moon appears upside down from what you and I observe in England or Europe.”
As she spoke, Navan realized he wished his own children to know such wonder when looking upon the world.
How grand would that be? The amazement in her voice as she spoke of the beauty of a view of a clear night sky from the deck of a ship and how the stars reflected on the black surface of the sea was pure magic.
“They shine like diamonds. I always wanted to capture one just to have it for my own.”
Navan thought those diamonds could be found in her eyes as he assisted her to her feet and impetuously circled her waist with his arm and led her into a slow waltz across the root-filled ground of the small garden.
If she were his, he would cover her in diamonds and let her enjoy the feel of them against her skin.
Realizing the improper nature of both his thoughts and actions, he released her as casually as possible.
“I hold other obligations tomorrow,” he said, though such was not true.
“Promise me you will know care. Should I have someone bring you a basket in my absence?”
She dropped her eyes in obvious embarrassment. “Such is not necessary, my lord.”
With the tips of his fingers, he tilted her chin upward where he could look upon her sweet countenance. “No, ‘my lords,’” he warned, “and no questioning what just passed between us. I am quite fond of the ready friendship that has developed between us.”
“We are friends?” she asked in wonderment.
“We are no longer nodding acquaintances, and we assuredly are not lovers,” he stated. “Therefore, we must be friends.”
“I have never had a male friend,” she admitted. After having witnessed the kiss between her and Lady Caroline, he wondered if her “friends” were all females, but he refused to ruin this moment with his crazy assumptions.
“You possess one now, my dear.” He looked in the direction of the house before saying, “I will wait until you are safely inside and the door is locked properly. Enjoy the newspapers. If you find something you wish to ask regarding what you read, please save your questions until I come again. It would make for another grand conversation.”
“I shall,” she declared with a smile as she left him in the garden.
When he returned to the empty watch house, Navan sat at the long glass again, finally finding her in the drying room.
She was pretending to waltz with an imaginary partner.
She would disappear and reappear as she turned in the arms of a man he knew was he.
He could not contain his smile as he settled upon the nearby bed.
Tonight, he would dream of a red-haired beauty who made no demands upon him beyond his occasional company.
Audrey had spent every day since her uncle’s departure in a house which felt as if it could be standing alone at the end of the world, despite being surrounded by a neighborhood, a large city, and a great nation.
She had never been one who well tolerated silence, and silence was proving, in her opinion, to be a very poor companion.
As her uncle had instructed, she had spent an average of four hours each day cleaning the rooms on the main floor.
She had begun with the drawing room and then the small sitting room.
Today, she had made her first foray into the morning room.
Smaller rugs had been beaten. The larger ones swept.
Now that she knew how to do it properly, hearths had been cleaned.
Furniture and light fixtures dusted and polished.
She had even practiced both the pianoforte and the harp, though the instrument assuredly required tuning and the harp should be restrung, for one of the strings was loose, but the exercise was something she had not done with any regularity for nearly a year.
She would likely never be considered proficient on either, but she found solace in both the sound of the music filling the emptiness, as well as spending time in the drying room mastering a variety of weapons.
“I wonder what I can prepare from the provisions left from Lord Beaufort’s basket,” she remarked as she made her way below stairs.
Audrey had hoped to spend part of the day with the woman hired to prepare the meals at Amgen Place, but Mrs. Thomas had only brought fresh bread and departed quickly while mumbling a promise to return in three days.
The woman had not even commented on how clean the kitchen appeared.
There had been no apology for not returning every other day, as Audrey had been told she would—just a simple bob of the woman’s head and a speedy exit.
A large sigh of resignation caught Audrey and held her in place as she entered yet another room devoid of people.
She could not hide the tears rushing to her eyes, nor was there a need to do so.
No one would observe her misery. Audrey held few memories of her mother.
Just a small miniature which kept the familiar features fresh in her mind, along with the stories Uncle Jacobi shared of his sister’s childhood in England, but, in this moment, she felt the loss of her mother most profoundly.
“I wonder what my mother would have thought of her brother leaving me behind and on my own. I cannot imagine any mother would approve of her child being treated thusly.”
When she had entered the kitchen, she held the intention of warming the soup Lord Beaufort had left for her, but Audrey had no desire to spend time alone in the kitchen long enough to heat the food nor did she wish to wash the utensils nor fetch the water to heat it.
“I will take a wedge of cheese and the dark bread to the attic and eat as I train. Perhaps I can expend enough of my restlessness to know a full night’s sleep for a change. ”
Audrey did not know how long she had practiced, but long enough for her muscles to scream for rest, and so she curled up on the thin mattress on the floor, rather than return to her sparse bedroom below.
She felt safer when she was farther from the main doors, always assuming she would hear an intruder below before he could reach her.
Permitting her exhaustion to lull her to sleep, Audrey had closed her eyes and dreamed of Lord Beaufort.
“Navan,” she had whispered while telling herself that if his lordship had to choose between her and her cousin, Caroline would excel.
Her cousin was a beauty, while Audrey knew herself to be merely ordinary.
Yet, in her dreams, he always chose her.
“Wake,” a male voice said and shook her shoulder.
She did not know how long she had slept, but it was assuredly not long enough. “Sleeping,” she murmured and swatted at the hand which shook her shoulder a second time.
“Wake, Annalise,” a male voice instructed.