And then her gaze fell on Lord Whickerton.
The smirk upon his face told her in an instant that he knew what she had done. He knew she had not truly been asleep. He knew she had not truly awoken a moment earlier. And she suspected he also knew why she had pretended to be napping, for his gaze darted to Adele and then to Mr. MacKinnear, just now disappearing inside the castle.
Lord Aberley stepped forward and offered Adele his arm, which she accepted, but not without a look of regret upon her face. Of course, she tried her best to hide it, but Edith had seen it, nonetheless.
“May I escort you back to the castle?” Lord Whickerton asked as he stepped toward her. “Or are you too fatigued?” Edith loved that wicked grin playing over his face.
“Not at all,” Edith said, playing along. She took his arm, and they followed the other two through the snow up to the castle.
Edith noticed few words were spoken between Adele and Lord Aberley. The occasional uneasy glance was cast at the other but not much was said. Indeed, they simply had little to say to each other.
Something else Edith noticed was that Lord Whickerton seemed to be slowing his steps, allowing the gap between them and Adele and Lord Aberley to grow bit by bit. “I know what you’re doing,” he finally whispered, winking at her as she turned her head to look at him.
“I have not the faintest inkling what you could mean, my lord,” Edith replied, trying her very best to look innocent.
Edith knew that Lord Whickerton saw right through her act, and she could not say that she minded. “I concede,” he finally said, “that your friend and Mr. MacKinnear are a superior match to the one planned by her father. However,” he stopped and turned to look at her more fully, “are you not concerned that your interference might draw their anger?”
Edith sighed, for admittedly she had asked herself that very question. “In my experience, there are two kinds of parents,” she told him. “The first were never able to truly connect with their children and, therefore, do not place their well-being, their happiness above all else.” She looked past him to where Lady Mary and the dowager countess were moving along the path back toward the castle. Lady Mary walked with her head bowed down while her mother continued to speak down on her, no doubt lecturing her, correcting her, urging her to behave as she saw fit.
Lord Whickerton looked over his shoulder, and she could see him exhale deeply as his gaze fell on his mother and sister. Understanding marked his gaze the moment he turned back to her. “And the other?”
Edith smiled. “They are just the opposite.”
Lord Whickerton nodded thoughtfully. “And you believe Lady Adele’s parents to be the second kind of parents?”
Edith nodded.
“And what of Lord Aberley’s father?”
“Truth be told, I cannot be certain,” she admitted with a sigh. “I met the man barely a fortnight ago, yet I have seen moments of affection and concern. Yes, I believe that he, too, cares for his son.”
Pulling her arm once more through the crook of his, Lord Whickerton led her onward. “So, you are determined to continue on this path?”
Edith looked up at him. “Do you object?” Her heart seemed to pause in her chest, waiting for his answer.
Grinning, he met her gaze. “I cannot say that I do.” There was a touch of surprise in his voice, as though he ought to object, as though he had expected himself to do so.
Edith chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
“I suppose I am.”
“And yet what I do is not all that different from what your own mother is doing, is it? She, too, does her utmost to lead two people together.” She paused, waiting to see how he would reply, if indeed he saw her in exactly the same light.
Again, Lord Whickerton drew to a halt, a frown darkening the look upon his face. He turned to look at her, his eyes sweeping over her face before he shook his head. “Yet there is one marked difference, is there not?”
With bated breath, Edith waited for him to continue.
“You do what you do to see someone you care for happy,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “My mother, on the other hand, does not care for my sister’s happiness, does she?” He blinked, and his eyes focused on her once more. “Of course, that is not a surprise.” He scoffed. “Of course, I’ve always known it. Yet…” He shook his head, as though putting that knowledge into words for the first time had suddenly made him look at it in a different way. “My mother belongs in that first category of parents, does she not?”
Edith nodded. “From what you and your sister have told me, I suppose that is a fair assessment.”
Lord Whickerton heaved a deep sigh, full of disappointment and regret. “Well, then I suppose—” He broke off and then turned to look at her, his eyes widening. “You’ve spoken to my sister?”
Edith chuckled. “Yes. Why? Do you object? Are you perhaps worried about what she might have told me of you?”
Smiling, he shook his head. “There is no need for me to worry.”
“And why is that? Are you such a good person that you need not fear another’s assessment of your character?”