Chapter 24
Atlas
Ihad taken to riding out with the guards early every morning instead of waiting for their reports.
Fortunately, no new signs of intruders had been discovered since the camp.
Instead of being reassured that all was well, I waited for them to return, worried that this time they would move beyond the perimeter of my property and invade my home.
When I finished with the guard, I took a ride on my own.
The sky was overcast, and the temperature fair.
Taking my time, I slowed our pace to a walk.
My thoughts easily shifted from intruders to Miss Lewis.
Beautiful Miss Lewis. Last night, much had shifted in my mind.
I had publicly shown attention to her, and I should be reeling from my foolish behavior.
What alarmed me was that I was not upset at all.
In fact, my night had been wonderful because of her.
I had done everything to stay busy and avoid feeling anything for anyone again. I had so many reasons to not pursue her. Could I let myself trust someone so completely? Could I trust myself? I needed more time to be sure, but I knew with certainty that I wanted to take the chance.
The morning grew late, and I turned Champion back toward the house. After returning him to the stables, I discovered a carriage pulling into our drive. I recognized it. Hastening my step, I met Abramson as soon as he stepped out.
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s calling hours, is it not?”
“I thought we agreed that you were not to come here.”
I tried to imagine Abramson spying on me on my property, waiting to make his move.
The picture in my mind was all wrong. Abramson could bluff in cards for strangers, but he could never fool me.
Unfortunately, it did not mean that he was not indirectly involved.
He had been as loyal to Barry over the years as he had been to me. And he had always been easily swayed.
“I thought after last night that you were ready to start over,” Abramson said.
Was I? I wanted to try letting someone into my heart again, but was I ready to welcome Society into my home? My old friends?
“My aunt is responsible for your invitations last night. I had no idea you were coming.”
“I see.” Abramson scuffed the toe of his boot against the gravel. “Does this mean you will prohibit me from calling on your sister?”
Every part of me balked at the thought of Abramson with my sister. It had been hard enough seeing them converse last night. I knew his mistakes nearly as well as I knew my own.
Abramson sighed. “Your sister has your same spirit—or at least the spirit you had before your accident. If I am right, she will resent you if you make this choice for her.”
I stared at him, my hands involuntarily fisting at my side. It was difficult enough deciding my own love life, but my sister’s too? As a brother I had a duty to protect her.
“Walk with me,” Abramson said. “For old times’ sake. Perhaps I can convince you to let me inside.”
My feet begrudgingly stepped into pace with Abramson. Whatever he had to say, I doubted it would convince me.
Estelle
Augusta was not the only one struggling to pay attention to lessons this morning.
I could barely keep my thoughts on her primer.
Guilt plagued me for not telling Nora about Mr. Goodwin last night or that morning.
I justified that she would not remember him being our guest at Norwood Hall, but she had a better memory than most.
I also worried Lady Camden would burst in to the library at any moment to lecture me on speaking too intimately with her son—and in public no less. But worst of all was the way my thoughts leaped to the subject of Lord Camden.
As if they wanted to stay there forever.
“Isn’t Fredrick Abramson a classic name?” Augusta asked. “It’s strong and masculine.”
“It’s a fine name. Keep reading here.” I pointed to a place on the text and hoped it was the correct spot.
She read another sentence and stopped. “But I could not fully enjoy Mr. Abramson’s company because I was worried about what my brother thinks of him. Or was it because I did not fully enjoy Mr. Abramson himself? I blame Atlas for my confusion. He was so off-putting to his friends. I do wonder why.”
I wondered the same. “I am certain he had his reasons. Read this line, if you please.”
Another sentence and Augusta picked the conversation up again, this time with a knowing smile. “My brother paid marked attention to you at the dinner party. Surely you have something to say about that.”
Drat my smile. I could not keep it hidden. “See if you can finish another page, and we will take a short reprieve.”
Augusta sighed and droned out the words. It was then I realized she was showing signs of improvement. She had memorized a few more words and did not stumble quite as frequently. When she finished, I praised her. “You are doing so well.”
“Do not humor me. I am still in the same primer as babies learning to read.”
“Your consistency has made a difference. Think what another few months will do.”
Augusta pushed the primer aside. “I would rather think about last night. Tell me this. Did you reflect even once on your stranger?”
That was not the question I had expected. “No. I did not think of my stranger.”
Augusta grinned. “Because my brother consumed your thoughts?”
I glanced from one knowing eye to the other and relented with an honest answer. “Not all of them, but I must admit he stole the majority.”
Her grin stretched ever higher on her cheeks. “Ah, so Atlas was a romantic thief who stole your thoughts. I have never been prouder of him.”
I withheld the laugh on the tip of my tongue.
I did not want to encourage her and set false hopes.
“It would be difficult not to like your brother, but I am a mere companion. Besides, it’s not right for me to have two different men in my heart.
Clearly, I am not mature enough to be in any relationship.
It’s far better if I stick to my original plan. ”
“And what is that?”
I opened my mouth to answer her, but that would mean telling her about my inheritance and more details about my past than I was prepared for. I gave her the next best answer. “To be your companion, of course. There is no room for romance in my life at present.”
Augusta sat back in her seat and folded her arms. “Do you really think that you would be the first companion to fall in love?”
“Love?” Heat stole into my cheeks, and I shook my head. “Who said anything about love?”
“You did not have to say anything. Like I said before, your faraway looks say it for you.”
“Augusta, really—”
“Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” she said over me. “Wouldn’t you rather save your breath and find out what my brother thinks of you in return?”
“What?” I was waving my hands in front of my face not two seconds later. “That’s completely unnecessary.”
“Come, I have the perfect plan.”
I had to jump to my feet to keep up with her. She was already to the door and through it before I could even object. I could tell we were heading toward Lord Camden’s office, but I stupidly followed, my stride lengthening to catch her.
Suddenly, Augusta stopped and threw out her arm. As soon as I was beside her, I saw what she had. Just outside the window by the front door stood Lord Camden in conversation with Mr. Abramson.
“Good heavens.” Augusta pulled me to the narrow window. “How timely of us.”
“What are you scheming, Augusta?” I skewered her with a knowing look. She was up to something, and the thin ice beneath me was already cracking. I didn’t need her help to drown me any faster.
She frowned in frustration. “Nothing untoward. Just a little lip-reading.”
It was my turn to frown. “Lip-reading?”
“Yes, I had a tutor once who worked with deaf-mutes. Another one of Mother’s desperate tactics to teach me to read. The only skill I managed was learning the basics of lip-reading. I practice whenever I can.”
I groaned. “If only you were so diligent with your reading.”
She shook her head. “Lip-reading is much more interesting.”
I had not expected any of this. “Well, I cannot think of a reason to stop you. Unless, of course, the nature of their conversation is too personal. Then we must respect their privacy.”
“I do have some manners,” Augusta assured, turning back to the window.
I did not argue with her. I too leaned toward the edge of the window, curious as to the process of lip-reading.
But it was not their mouths that caught my attention, but the stance of their legs, their folded arms, and the grimness of their features.
Whatever they were saying, it was not anything as friendly as the weather.
“Atlas says that Mr. Abramson shouldn’t have come.”
“I got that much just by looking at them,” I mumbled.
“Oh, good heavens,” Augusta cried.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Mr. Abramson is not enunciating his words properly. He should open his mouth more when he speaks.”
I giggled. “Be sure to tell him that when you meet again.”
“Something about snow? Or . . . letting it go.”
Atlas shook his head, and Augusta mimicked what she thought he said in response. “I cannot trust you? No, that cannot be right. He would not have said that to Mr. Abramson.”
I was not so sure. Mr. Abramson did not seem very trusting last night.
Just then Lord Camden’s face turned, and his eyes met ours in the window.
Augusta and I both gasped and hid ourselves. My heart slapped against my chest with such power I feared it would leap from my chest. I felt as caught as the night I had been discovered in the cupboard, pilfering bread from the kitchen. What would Lord Camden think of me now?
I did not have long to wonder. Not seconds later, the front door opened, and Lord Camden strode inside. He turned to find Augusta and me pressed against the wall, holding on to each other.
“Ladies?”
“Lord Camden,” I answered. It seemed his name was the only greeting I was capable of, and it came out like a squeak.