Daria slipped her arm through Gillian’s. “Withus,” she corrected.
They made their way from the drawing room to Mrs. Brownlow’s sitting room, where she was resting in a chair, tucked cozily beneath a blanket.
“May we visit with you for a bit?” Gillian asked, relieved at the continued improvement in Mrs. Brownlow’s coloring and posture.
“Of course.” They were waved in.
“Daria wanted to see how you were faring,” Gillian explained.
“Tosh.” Mrs. Brownlow had never used that bit of cant before. “She brought you here because I asked her to.”
That was unexpected.
“Mr. Sarvol left two days ago,” Mrs. Brownlow said. “And I have received reports from all my many spies that you seem utterly and completely unbroken up about it.”
Had the Huntresses truly been discussing her with Mrs. Brownlow? She shot a glance at Daria.
“We didn’t say that nothing was bothering you,” Daria said. “We simply said—” She suddenly seemed to lose her nerve.
“Best finish,” Gillian said. “I want to know.”
“We said that youactlike you’re not upset,” Daria said. “But you’ve grown far more distant. You don’t even talk to me much, which is not at all like you. I’ve been worried.”
Gillian looked from one of them to the other. “The situation is complicated, that’s all.”
“But it isn’t, really.” Mrs. Brownlow shook her head. “I watched the two of you while he was here. You’re well matched. Had he been able to stay longer, I think you two would have discovered that for yourselves.”
Gillian could feel her cheeks heating. “I do like him very much, but he didn’t—He wasn’t—”
“He wrought such a change in you, Gillian,” Mrs. Brownlow said. “With him here, you were much more the energetic and joyful person you were before that first disastrous London Season. I know Mrs. Jonquil saved you from the worst of it and saw to it your experience with thetonhas been better ever since, but you’ve become so guarded and closed off. Mr. Sarvol brought you out of hiding. I can’t bear watching you retreat again.”
“He really is a good person,” she said. “And I did enjoy having him here.”
Mrs. Brownlow and Daria nodded in unison.
“That hardly matters now,” Gillian said. “I knew he had to be going—he had pressing business to see to—but he offered no indications he meant to ever come back here.”
“Did you ask him to?” Mrs. Brownlow pressed.
“Of course not. I had coerced him into staying here longer than he’d intended to. He stayed because I asked. Is it really so much to want him to return because hechoseto?”
“Do you love him?” Mrs. Brownlow asked.
“She absolutely does,” Daria said. “Anyone who watched them dance three afternoons ago knows that for certain.”
Gillian felt the fight drain from her. There was no point denying what these two had already sorted out. “He took a considerable piece of my heart with him when he left.”
“The gentlemen will be departing for Cambridge soon,” Mrs. Brownlow said. “Daria will return home. Mr. and Mrs. Jonquil will return to Brier Hill. I am well on the way to recovery. The only uncertainty remaining is what you mean to do.”
“Do? Stay here, of course,” Gillian said. “Pass the winter in my garden, as I always do.”
“Thimbleby is only a day-and-a-half’s journey from here,” Daria said.
Gillian eyed her with confusion. “Why should I go there?”
“Because you love him.” Daria made the observation in a tone that indicated she thought it should have been obvious.
“What if I arrive only to find he doesn’t want me there? That he feels his departure from Houghton Manor was a welcome escape? I couldn’t bear it if I were to discover these feelings were not reciprocated, at least a little.”