Chapter 16
“May I join you?” Theodore knocked on the doorframe that led into the dining room the next day.
Harriet was inside with Phoebe beside her. Both of them gave a start as he arrived, and he saw them each get to their feet. Phoebe was not looking at him, but Harriet at least, met his gaze.
The fingers of his right hand tapped gently against his thigh, trying to think of what to say. This was a foolish idea.
“Of course.” Harriet gestured to one of the footmen. “Can you lay a place for His Grace please?”
“At once.” The footman swept into a low bow and disappeared, returning a few moments later and laying out another place setting at the head of the table.
Theodore sat and helped himself to a piece of toast. The scrape of his cutlery against the China echoed in the silence of the dining hall, a sound made worse when he cleared his throat.
“I did what you asked.” Harriet’s voice had an odd note to it, it was more breathless and it caught his attention. “The painting is back where I found it.”
Theodore nodded, his eyes flicking to Phoebe and then back to Harriet. His niece was staring resolutely at her plate, picking at the bits of fruit on it. She did not see Harriet shake her head at Theodore’s unasked question: Did she see the painting?
He expected to feel relief at Harriet’s answer, but he did not. He took a bite of toast, chewing mechanically as he thought of something to say.
His outburst the day before hung in the air around them. He hated how badly he had lost control, but did not know what to say. It had taken hours for the feel of her hand against his chest to fade.
Was she trying to push me away? It had not felt like that. His stomach jolted and dropped, twisting violently until he had a sip of coffee, focusing on the bitter black liquid in an effort to calm his nerves.
“I heart you two were at the stables yesterday.” Theodore started spreading copious amounts of butter on a second piece of toast.
“Yes. If I had had more of a chance to get to know the horses, I would have taken Phoebe on a ride with me.” Harriet gave Phoebe an encouraging smile. “You were rather keen to ride on the black one, were you not? What was his name again?”
Phoebe did not reply, staring straight at the floor and kicking her legs aimlessly as her fingers tapped against the paper beside her.
“I think it was Midnight?” Harriet offered.
“He is not the sort of horse you should be riding.” Theodore suppressed a shiver as he thought of his tiny niece and Harriet atop the large black stallion. “He is flighty and can be unpredictable. He needs a firm hand, and a very skilled rider.”
“Then it is lucky we did not take him.” Harriet reached for Phoebe’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I would not want to put you in danger.”
Phoebe’s eyes flicked towards Harriet, and then back down to the floor. Theodore clenched and unclenched his fists as his tried to think of something to say. How does Harriet do this?
“If you want to ride, a pony would be more suitable,” Theodore said. “I suggested as much to Mr. Grimsby yesterday. Though you understand that it will be a big responsibility. You will need to learn how to ride like a lady and how to spot a good horse.”
Theodore tried to catch his niece’s eye to no avail. “Do you understand?”
Phoebe shifted and he could tell she was swinging her legs back and forth over the edge of her seat. She nodded, but did not speak.
He glanced at Harriet who was watching him expectantly, a small smile on her face as she nodded at him. He could not think of anything to add.
“Perhaps we could all go on a ride together?” Harriet looked from him to Phoebe. “There are some nice areas around – we could take a picnic and perhaps we could draw while we were out.”
“Would you like that?” Theodore asked.
Phoebe nodded again, but did not say anything. This was a mistake. He should not have tried to have breakfast with them. He glanced at his niece, who had scarcely touched her food.
“Perhaps you could show you uncle your new journal later and some of your drawings?” Harriet made another valiant attempt at conversation, but Theodore knew it was pointless.
Still, he played along. “I would like that.”
He thought he saw Phoebe’s eyes light up, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure. She began to sketch something on the paper beside her, and pushed it towards Harriet.
He watched as Harriet took it from her. “You wish to be excused?”
Phoebe nodded her ascent, looking from Harriet to the wall behind Theodore.
“You may go.” Theodore felt a pang of disappointment course through him as his niece pushed herself away from the table and left the room.
“She barely touched her food.” Theodore gestured to his niece’s nearly full plate.
“Please find Lucy and ask her to get Phoebe something from the kitchens,” Harriet said to one of the nearby servants.
“Yes, Your Grace.” The servant curtseyed and left.
“I should not have joined you.” Theodore murmured. “She needs to eat.
Harriet’s fingers twitched as though she was going to reach towards him, but her hand remained in place. “Just give it some time, the more she gets used to you being around her, the more she will start to relax around you.”
How much more time? He bit the words back with difficulty. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Harriet opened her mouth as though to say something else. A knock at the door interrupted her.
Theodore looked around, hoping for a wild moment that it was Phoebe. His hope turned sour when he saw Mr. Grimsby standing in the doorway, and he frowned. “His Grace, Percival, Duke of Wright is here to see you.”
“I was not aware we were expecting guests.” Theodore got to his feet and glanced at Harriet.
She was adjusting the creases in her dress. “I have received no requests for an audience or anything of the sort since you were away. If I had, I would have discussed such a thing with you.”
Theodore tapped his fingers against the table. “Mr. Grimsby, bring Wright to me. It is not like him to drop in unannounced.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Grimsby left and Theodore listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps as he tried to understand what had brought his friend to his estate so unexpectedly.
Harriet’s voice jerked him back to attention. “Should we arrange a plate and such for him? Perhaps a fresh pot of coffee?”
“Yes. Though he may not plan on staying long.” Theodore gestured to one of the footmen to approach. “Fetch another setting for the Duke.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and left the room.
“I shall speak to the kitchens and have them send something up anyway.” Harriet left the room so quickly that Theodore was tempted to call after her.
“Trouble already, old friend?” Percival walked into the room with Mr. Grimsby following behind him. “Why was your wife practically running from the room?”
“She was not-” Theodore cut himself off as he saw the state of his friend. “What on Earth happened to you? You look like a drowned rat.”
“It is raining.” Percival replied as though this explained everything. “Or at least, it was raining where I have just been. I expect it will not be long before it reaches the estate.”
“Get the Duke something dry to wear.” Theodore threw several logs onto the nearby fire as he barked out the order. “What were you doing out in a storm?”
“I fancied a stroll, obviously.” Percival replied drily as he took a blanket that one of the footmen handed him. “You know how I adore arriving places more mud than man.”
Something that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh drifted in from the doorway and both Theodore and Percival looked up to see Harriet standing there, her hand covering her mouth. Theodore’s frown deepened.
“Ah. Your Grace. A pleasure to see you again, and to meet you properly. We did not really get a chance to speak much at your wedding.” Percival swept into a bow, sending a spray of water out as he did so.
“I am afraid I must ask your forgiveness for both my appearance and my somewhat unorthodox arrival.”
“Of course, Your Grace. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Harriet curtseyed.
“You still have not explained why you are here, Wright. Nor why you have traipsed mud all through my house and over my new carpets.” Theodore realized his shoulders had risen close to his ears and forced them back down with difficulty.
“Ah! I noticed that.” Percival glanced between Theodore and Harriet. “I take it those were your doing? You have quite the eye for such things. Remarkable what you have done with the place.”
“Thank you, but honestly, you are too kind.” To Theodore’s surprise, he saw Harriet’s cheeks flush slightly, her eyes briefly flicking towards him and away again. “I have not done that much.”
“You have,” Theodore said more firmly than he intended. “It has made a big difference.”
He saw her attention snap back to him, the room around them faded. Her lips parted slightly, even as her eyes narrowed. The tips of his fingers tingled, warmth spreading through him as he remembered the softness of her skin.
Please. She did not look away, a light slowly kindling to life in her eyes. He answered her unasked question. “A positive difference.”
He saw the corners of her lips begin to quirk upwards, a smile threatening to steal across her face that sent a thrill through him as though he were standing at a cliff edge.
Yet he noticed a tightness to her muscles, and instinctively felt himself reach towards her, leaning forwards and then, Percival’s voice cut through the moment as clearly as a gunshot.
“I would have to agree; your additions have made the place more inviting than I thought possible.”
Harriet’s cheeks flushed as she blinked and looked away from Theodore at Percival. He felt the bottom drop from his stomach and let out a breath.
“What are you doing here, Wright?” Theodore had not meant the words to sound quite so sharp and accusatory.