Nor did it help her sleep. Long after she should have extinguished her candle, she tried to read.
She tried to read Emma, but found she was too furious at the contents to enjoy it. And the illustrated compendium of birds was not compelling enough to hold her interest.
She paced the length of the room, practically wearing a hole in the floor. She looked out of the window, and felt compelled to escape. As she had done so many times at Bybee House.
If she could’ve crawled out of her own skin she would have done so, but failing that, she simply contented herself with fleeing the house.
And so, she did so here.
She opened the door to the bedchamber and quietly made her way down the stairs.
She did not know if there was a back garden, but she assumed so. And she was not disappointed. It was a lovely space, bathed in moonlight, with a massive fountain, surrounded by several statues.
Nude statues.
It was very Roman. William, she thought with grim humour, would likely find it quite interesting.
She found herself staring at a naked warrior, clothed only in a helmet, which she felt left him vulnerable in many other ways.
Briggs had asked her if she knew what made a man and a woman different.
Of course she knew. She was not an idiot.
He had said it was so they could... Fit together. Make a child. The idea made her flush all over. For imagining such an intimate part of herself fitted against...
Kiss him.
She swallowed hard.
Who gets to decide?
She circled the statue, examining the powerful thighs, the rather muscular-looking derrière. At least, this took her mind off the disastrous carriage ride. Yes. It was a very different sort of body. Though it was made of stone. Perhaps that was why it appeared so hard. She knew Briggs was solid though. Not like her at all.
A sound made her turn, and she saw Briggs, standing in the doorway. He was not dressed for bed, rather, he was dressed to go out. He was standing there, looking through the glass. And she felt inexplicably quite caught out.
She moved away from the statue, and waited to see what he might do. If he would turn away and continue on as he had intended to do, or if he would come out to her.
She did not have to wait long for her answer.
The door opened.
‘And are you trying to tempt brigands to scale my garden wall and kidnap you?’ he asked. The words were like the Briggs she’d known for much of her life. The tone was not.
‘I had no aspirations of such,’ she said, turning away from him.
‘You only wished to leer at my statuary?’
‘I was not leering. I was admiring the artistry.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘How could I be so foolish? A lady such as yourself would never do anything half so...interesting.’
‘Briggs...’
‘I only came to check that you were well.’
‘I am not well,’ she said. ‘I fear that I made things incredibly difficult by pushing you to bring William on the trip, and I... I am deeply... Deeply sorry, and so very... I did not mean to upset him. Or you.’
‘But the end result is that you have,’ Briggs said. ‘And there is nothing to be done for that.’