When he added the second thought in his head, it spooked him all the more.
“I must go. I will see you soon,” Luke uttered another goodbye and hastened out of the room, being careful to close the door behind him so that Jemima could not follow. He was certain he heard Jemima and Noah talking of Miss Storey as he walked away down the corridor, and he did not doubt they would talk at length of the conversation that had just passed between the three of them for some hours afterwards, but he had no wish to hear the details.
He passed out of the house as quickly as he could, reaching for his horse that was being held nearby by a stable boy. Luke flicked a coin into the boy’s hands before climbing up into the saddle and riding away, faster than he normally would have done. Today, he needed it, though. He needed the escape to think.
I have put Miss Storey in danger too much as it is. I must do more to separate myself from her.
***
As Annie walked up to the house, she could hear voices within. It was far from the calm discussions or even the low dismissive notes Peggy’s cousin, the new Viscount of Burnham, usually used toward Peggy. These tones were loud and angry.
Annie knocked on the door, and the raised voices abruptly cut off. A few seconds later, the door was opened by a rather flustered looking butler who hurried Annie into the house.
“I am here to see Miss Grove….” Annie faltered as she looked to the far end of the entrance hall. In the distance, the Viscount was storming off, with his hessian boots echoing against the tiled floor.
Behind him, he left Peggy standing at the foot of the staircase with a fresh bunch of flowers in her hand. She seemed to be trembling a little, staring down at the flowers, before she shook herself out of her state and looked up to meet Annie’s eyes. “Peggy, what has happened?” Annie rushed forward, reaching out toward her friend. “These are beautiful.”
“I know.” Peggy smiled rather sadly. “I didn’t want my cousin to cast them out of the house today. I didn’t let him take them. Least to say, it did not make him happy.” She turned to the butler and asked him to bring tea and a fresh vase into the sitting room, then led the way through the house.
The moment they were in the sitting room, Annie closed the door, seeking privacy with her friend. As Peggy sat down on the nearest caned armchair, she continued to stare at the flowers she was still clutching on her lap.
“Confess now, my friend,” Anne said with a soft voice as she crossed the room. She discarded her bonnet and spencer jacket, then took a footstool and sat in front of Peggy. “These flowers are from Mr Barton again, are they not?” In answer, Peggy merely nodded. “And despite your cousin’s words, I think you like Mr Barton more than you are prepared to admit to?” Once again, Peggy nodded.
“Oh, I know I am a fool, Annie.” Peggy sighed and slumped in the chair. “If what my cousin says is to be believed, you would think any sane woman would stay far away from Mr Barton, yet I find I cannot. He asks me to dance, and my resolve might as well be turned to water, for all the strength it has in it, for I say yes and agree to dance, then I enjoy myself. Is there anything so wrong in that?”
“Nothing wrong at all.” Annie found herself smiling for two reasons. She did not see anything so awful in what Peggy had just described. Neither did it seem wrong that she enjoyed her dance the previous night with Lord Yeatman. “If you wish to keep Mr Barton’s flowers, then keep them.”
“Yes, I shall.” She held tighter onto the flowers. “If he turns out to be just the man my cousin describes, then I will only have myself to blame, I suppose.” Her gaze lifted from the flowers and fixed on Annie. “What is your own opinion on the subject?”
“As my mother said last night, only you can decide how you wish your relationship with Mr Barton to be.”
“You are a good friend.” Peggy reached forward with one of her hands and took hold of Annie’s. “You have a similar debate yourself, I know.”
“Me?” Annie sat back. “No, no, I do not.”
“Oh, Annie, you danced with Lord Yeatman again last night. I’m sure you can imagine the whispers that began,” Peggy said with a laugh as she turned her nose down to the flowers and pressed it into one of the orchid petals, inhaling the scent.
“It was one dance.” Annie stood to her feet and stepped away, both irked that she had given into the dance, yet knowing she had not wanted to. “Oh, Peggy, this is maddening. Lord Yeatman does not send me flowers, as Mr Barton does you. Lord Yeatman even accepts that he should not be saying the things he does with me.” She wrung her hands together, fidgeting as she turned to look out of the window.
“If I was to wager money on the situation, I would say Mr Barton is looking to court you. Be assured, Lord Yeatman is not making the same effort with me. His reputation is known by the entireton,after all.”
“Does that mean he would never court someone?” Peggy’s question made Annie turn back to look at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean….” Peggy paused as if considering a thought before she spoke up. “Last night, Mr Barton asked if it was possible for me to forgive a man for his youthful exuberance and wayward ways.”
“How did you answer him?”
“I said…possibly.”
“Ha! Cryptic indeed,” Annie laughed and leaned on the window frame, turning to face her friend.
“But it is possible, is it not?” Peggy asked. “We all have the capacity to change. Is it so absurd to think that Lord Yeatman could one day marry, even if he has shown no inclination to do so up until this point?”
Annie had no words. She was too busy thinking of the insinuation Peggy had made.
Would Lord Yeatman wish to courtme?Surely not!
She could think of prettier women and ladies of a better position. She was the daughter of a viscount, and a man set to be an earl someday could certainly marry a lady of a better position and one with a greater dowry. Yet the idea of seeing Lord Yeatman courting another lady made Annie feel a little sick, causing her to sit down in the window seat.
“I’d say it is about time you flirt back a little, Annie.”
“What? No!” Before Annie could put up any more objection, though, there was a tap at the door, and two maids had arrived. One came in carrying the tea tray, and another brought a vase for the flowers. As Annie watched Peggy place the flowers in the vase, Annie felt her envy creep in again, wishing Lord Yeatman would do such a thing.
I have no reason to hope he ever would.