Chapter 4

Miss Muffet stood in front of her dressing table mirror examining herself.

Had she imagined the way Lord Crawford had looked at her?

For a moment, she thought she saw some sort of appreciation in his eyes.

She pulled at her shapeless, brown day gown.

Bianca selected all her clothes—the uglier the better.

What Elena wouldn’t give to wear something else today.

She pushed back her ratted curls in front, cringing at the hairstyle Bianca had forced her to adopt.

Of course, Bianca wasn’t watching now. Elena could be a different person here.

The idea sounded enticing and intimidating.

What would be her punishment should Bianca find out?

Elena shivered at the thought. She needed to stick to her original plan and bide her time until Bianca married.

There was no need to cause additional strife at home—a place where relations were already strained.

But Bianca did not need to know everything about her visit.

Elena sighed and took her spectacles off.

She set them on her dressing table in a small act of rebellion.

Today she would forget them on purpose. Leaving her bedroom, she made her way down to the breakfast hall.

Each nook she passed possessed either some sort of historical relic or a vase of fresh flowers.

When she pushed open the dining room door, she half-hoped to find Lord Crawford alone again.

Instead, she discovered Lady Mary and the countess.

“Good morning,” Lady Crawford said, hurrying over to greet her.

Elena was so used to not responding, she nearly forgot to return the greeting. “Oh, good morning.”

Lady Crawford paused, clearly surprised that Elena had spoken. Flustered by her own ineptness, Elena ducked her head and filled her plate. She took a seat opposite Lady Mary. Lady Mary caught her eye and gave her a wide smile—one Elena hardly deserved.

“Are you enjoying Banbury?” Lady Mary asked her. “I do hope you aren’t homesick.”

“I . . . I like it very much here.” She forced herself to meet Lady Mary’s eyes. She was fighting an internal battle of how much she should interact with the family. If she was too nice, Bianca would find some way to pit them against Elena when her stay at Banbury ended.

Lady Mary’s smile widened. “Truly?”

Elena nodded. Who wouldn’t enjoy staying in a real castle filled to the brim with history?

“What would you like to do today?” Lady Crawford asked, settling into the seat at the head of the table.

Bianca had trained Elena to always refuse invitations. “I will likely just read. Your library is quite extensive.”

Lady Crawford gave her daughter an encouraging look.

“Oh,” Lady Mary said, her eyes darting back and forth between Elena and Lady Crawford. “I was hoping you would come sketch with me in the garden.”

Elena pinched her lips together. “I am not very accomplished.”

Mary’s smile drooped—the one she had willingly given Elena.

“Perhaps I could observe you?” The words slipped out of Elena’s mouth. She twisted the napkin in her lap, hoping she would not regret them. “I could use the fresh air.”

Lady Mary seemed satisfied. “Wonderful. While you gather your bonnet, I can collect my sketch pad.”

Elena’s fingers shook from her small act of bravery, but a wave of anticipation squelched the anxiety forming.

What would it be like to have a friend? Was this what it felt like?

She finished her last few bites and then retrieved her bonnet and shawl from her room.

Lady Mary met her at the bottom of the stairs and led her around the back of the castle keep.

They walked at a leisurely pace through the courtyard to a gate in the outer wall.

To the left lay a large garden, surrounded by an oval gravel path with a second path running through its center.

“The skies are perfect for drawing, aren’t they?” Lady Mary gave a delighted sigh and directed them to a bench near the stone wall and immediately sat and began sketching a fully bloomed rose.

“Do you care for roses?” Lady Mary asked, pausing her work.

Elena nodded. “Do . . . do you only draw flowers?” She over thought her question, worried Lady Mary would find her annoying for interrupting her artistic momentum.

“I love to draw still life, but I am partial to nature.” Lady Mary pushed her dark curls away from her face and deftly moved her pencil across the page. “I do not care for painting, but sketching soothes me.”

“You do it well.” It felt good to compliment Lady Mary without any fear of repercussions. Elena had forgotten how nice it was to be herself. She craved it—yearned for it.

“Oh, thank you. Blake taught me. That is, Mr. Gunther, my intended. We grew up together, you know. When we were children, he couldn’t stand the injustice I did to the people I drew. I made stick people without necks. It was quite abhorrent to him.”

Elena nearly laughed. Lady Mary seemed like the perfect match for Mr. Gunther.

He had joined them several nights for dinner, and she felt she knew them both through her quiet observations.

When she had met Mr. Gunther at the same house party where she met Lord Crawford and Mr. Hastings, he had seemed like a supercilious dandy.

Here, Lady Mary teased and harassed him and kept him in his place.

Their relationship was nothing like Elena had ever seen before.

After a while, Elena stood to stretch her back and to walk through the carefully manicured garden.

Sitting with Lady Mary wasn’t the same as being in the company of her brother, and she felt restless.

Elena didn’t mean to wander far, but the grounds were extensive and beautiful.

There was an orchard with rows of trees laden with nearly ripe apples and yellow-green pears just beyond the garden, and the long rows of trees beckoned to her.

She had nearly reached the other end of the orchard which bordered a meadow, when a nudge at the back of her skirt caused her to turn.

A white collie with beautiful caramel patches jumped up on her skirt in a friendly, curious manner.

Elena laughed softly and scratched his ears.

Collies were working dogs for shepherds or farmers, and this one must have wandered off.

“You’re a sweet one. Will you be my friend?

Dogs are much safer company than people.

” She looked around for a stick to throw but didn’t see one right away.

“Come along, we shall find you something to play with.” A few feet farther, beneath the shade of an apple tree, she found what she had been looking for.

She threw the stick and watched the dog chase after it.

They repeated the action a few times until the collie decided he did not want to give up the stick.

“You silly dog. Don’t you want to play?”

“Is Patches bothering you?”

Elena turned to find Lord Crawford walking toward her. “Not at all. Do you know this dog?”

“Yes, he’s mine. I wondered where he had gone.”

Her brow pinched. How is it that a refined earl had chosen a collie for a pet? “Forgive me, I did not know.” She remembered how he had said playing with his dog was one of his favorite pastimes.

“I don’t mind if you spend time with him,” Anton explained. “I would choose to be with a handsome woman over me. I can hardly blame him.”

Elena ducked her head, her cheeks heating. Did he really think she was handsome? Surely, he was teasing her.

He stooped over and took the stick the dog would not give up for her. Then Lord Crawford tossed it in the distance, and the dog took off running. “What do you think of the gardens?”

“They are lovely.” Her voice emerged soft and reverent. “But I must admit, I like the orchard and the open space even more.”

“I am the same way. I like to wander out here and clear my head.” He tossed her an easy smile, and she couldn’t look away.

“You are truly fortunate to have such privacy.” The desire for another conversation with this man overwhelmed her. How wonderful it was to be able to speak to someone without measuring each word and phrase.

“What is your estate like?” Lord Crawford asked.

She glanced around her. “It’s a fine piece of land, not as large as this, nor as beautiful.”

“I hope you take advantage of the yard while you are here. I know I am partial, but I haven’t found a prettier spot in all of England.”

“I thank you.”

Lord Crawford stood and brushed off his breeches. “Care to walk with me?”

Elena hesitated, so Lord Crawford stuck out his arm, urging her to accept.

With a burst of courage, Elena rested her hand on his arm.

For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming.

It felt like a game of pretend—walking arm-in-arm through a green orchard with a handsome earl.

He discussed literature with her and took the time to actually listen.

He shared about his childhood, and didn’t press when she did not share many details about hers.

He was exactly who she needed him to be.

This moment was worth a hundred punishments.

After they returned to the spot at the edge of the orchard where they had met not a half hour before, she was ready to inquire about a topic burning in her mind. “Might I ask a question of you, Lord Crawford?”

“Didn’t I give you permission to ask me questions while we played chess?”

She smiled. “Indeed, you did. Have you ever fought with your siblings?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I am sure you are right. It is only that I imagined you would resent your brother for his engagement to Miss Bliss, and yet, you seem so close.”

“It was not an easy thing to get over, but Terrance is my brother. I cannot separate him from his heart. They are one and the same.”

“Do you feel a family should always be united?”

Lord Crawford’s silence lasted only a few steps. “None of us are identical spirits, but our goal can be the same. Don’t you agree?”

“I don’t know. I think sometimes they can be too different, thus preventing any opportunity for a common goal.”

Lord Crawford shrugged. “I see such situations in society, but surely family is the one exception. A few sacrifices and compromises can go a long way.”

Sacrifices. She knew much of that word.

Patches approached her, and she took the opportunity to change the subject. “Look how your dog comes to me as if he has known me all his life.” Elena opened her free hand for the dog to lick. “If only everyone was as amiable as he is.”

He stared at his animal for a moment. “Yes, I’ve never seen him take to a stranger so quickly.”

Elena could almost say as much for herself. She had never taken to a stranger so quickly, but Lord Crawford might be the one exception. But how many days could she keep pretending that Bianca would not learn of their every interaction?

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