Chapter 13 #2
But Adeline said nothing. She walked calmly in the opposite direction, skirts brushing the gravel, leaving him no choice but to follow.
Winston caught up, silence stretching between them.
Against his will, his eyes drifted to her gown once again.
The way the pale fabric fell elegantly over her figure was sublime.
And yet it was that body which gave the dress its elegance.
Not the fabric or the way the modiste had cut the garment.
Adeline could have been wearing a potato sack and made it look like a ball gown.
Her posture was tense, her every step measured.
Winston felt a pang of regret, knowing he was the cause. She broke the silence softly.
“For Louisa’s sake, we must at least appear to get along. It is clear enough that you do not like me.”
The words struck him harder than expected.
“That is not true,” he said before he could stop himself.
Now, why on earth did I say that? What has possessed me!
She looked at him, startled, a faint flush coloring her cheeks.
Something unreadable flickered in her eyes, as though his admission was not unwelcome news.
Winston felt flustered, lengthened his stride to escape close proximity, turned a corner, and…
yet another dead end. His frustration boiled over.
With a muttered curse, he kicked at the hedge.
His boot caught fast in the tightly meshed branches, jerking him off balance.
Adeline reached instinctively to steady him, but instead was pulled down with him.
They landed in a heap upon the gravel. For a heartbeat, there was stunned silence.
Then Adeline burst into sudden, bright laughter.
She laughed as though her composure had finally cracked, as though the weight she carried could no longer be contained.
Winston stared, startled, then found himself laughing too.
The absurdity of his boot trapped in a hedge broke through the walls he had so carefully built.
Still chuckling, he tugged at the boot, but it would not come free.
At last, he was forced to pull his foot out entirely, leaving the boot wedged in the branches.
Adeline laughed harder, tears bright in her eyes.
The sound was infectious. For the first time in too long, Winston felt something unburdened, almost joyful.
He flopped back, looking up at the blue sky, shaking with merriment.
“This is absurd!” he cried.
“Utterly,” Adeline agreed.
“I have never been in such a situation.”
“I have been stranded in many mazes with a man who has lost a boot as well as his way. It is a common occurrence.”
Such was her deadpan delivery of this statement that Winston found himself laughing harder. He roared with it, which set Adeline to laughing harder, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Now that you mention it, I think the Regent lost a boot at Hampton Court the other day. And I hear that the hedges at Versailles are full of shoes.”
He did not care about control at that moment or about Adeline sitting next to him, her hand a hair’s breadth from his own. He was lost to the joy of their ridiculous situation. When their laughter subsided, he drew a steadying breath.
“Forgive me, Miss Wilkinson. I have been surly. These Society functions…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “They are not to my liking.”
Her expression softened. “Nor mine if I am given the choice. I have little experience of them, and what little I do have is not pleasant. I cannot say I enjoy feeling on display. But it is a duty, so I put on a mask.”
Winston blinked, surprised by the honesty of her admission. It chimed so perfectly with his own thoughts that he felt, for the first time, a thread of true kinship between them.
“Perhaps I should build myself a hermitage,” he said wryly. “I have read of an old English saint somewhere in the north who lived on a small island. But Louisa would never forgive me. She seems to thrive in Society.”
Adeline smiled faintly. “She does. But she thrives most where she feels loved.”
The words struck too close. Before he could reply, she shifted, rising gracefully from the gravel.
He followed, slipping his foot back into the boot once it had been liberated.
They were close, so close. Too close. He could see the pulse at her throat, the way her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came.
Heat surged through him, desire breaking past restraint.
He wanted, desperately wanted, to take her in his arms. Just a moment’s reprieve from the crushing weight of duty and grief.
To lose himself again, if only for a heartbeat.
His hand hovered near hers, fingers aching to close the distance.
She lifted her eyes to his, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
Their lips met, softly at first, then with increasing hunger, edged with all the fury of denial and longing. It was intoxicating.
“Papa! Lady Adeline!” Louisa’s bright voice rang out from mere yards away.
They flew apart, breathless, guilt and desire warring in Winston’s chest. He turned sharply to see Louisa skipping toward them, hand in hand with Robert Grebe. The servant bowed. His expression was mild.
“Your Grace. I was tasked with aiding lost guests in the maze. I found the young lady wandering and thought it best to return her to you.” He held up a folded map. “If you wish, I can guide you out.”
“Oh no, Papa! Let us do it properly and find our own way out. Using a map is cheating!” Louisa cried.
“Very well,” Winston agreed, putting out a hand for his daughter. “Thank you, Mr. Grebe, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Grace. At your service and your family’s,” Grebe replied smoothly.
Winston remembered him and his story. He nodded gruffly to the man.
“Good man, Grebe. Thank you.”
As they walked past the servant, Winston noticed that Adeline could not bring herself to look at the man. He remembered her reaction to his name.
A mystery. But not one that will be solved here.
As they walked on, Louisa skipped ahead, chattering. “Papa, did Mama like mazes?”
The question pierced him. He hesitated, then, to his own surprise, laughed.
“Your mother was always lost at Greystone. Once she left a trail of thread to find her way back to the drawing room.”
Louisa clapped her hands in delight. Adeline smiled at her pupil. To Winston, it appeared forced.
“What myth does that remind you of, Louisa?”
“The Minotaur!” Louisa crowed, proud of her knowledge.
Winston watched, unexpectedly moved by Adeline’s gentle teaching. He found himself speaking without thinking.
“Your mother was beautiful. And she loved you dearly.”
Louisa’s face lit with joy. Winston’s heart twisted, for he knew the truth lay elsewhere. Adeline’s gaze lingered on him, perceptive and searching. He looked away.