“Most young ladies are determined to marry.” A sour note tinged his tone.
“That is true. But, you see, I had already developed an interest in learning from my father. He was a natural teacher. My mother enjoyed botany, as well. I eventually achieved my goal of going with Uncle William when I pointed out that my parents, titled as they were, did not have a great deal of wealth. Therefore, taking into account my plainness and my lack of dowry, it was determined that my odds of catching a husband of rank were low. It would probably take several years of expensive Seasons, clothes, tutoring in the fine arts of being a well-mannered debutante... You see my point. Then I proceeded to behave monstrously. I made my aunt’s life miserable. She finally gave me to Uncle William.” She noted Dominic’s look of surprise with a confirming nod. “Yes, I was worse than Louise. Older. More manipulative and determined to have my way.”
“I have only seen you behave in a straightforward manner.”
“Uncle William and my relationship with God have changed me.” She proffered what felt like a rueful smile. “Though, as I am planning to join my uncle, unbeknownst to him, perhaps I have not completely ceased my manipulative maneuverings.” They shared a smile then, and she found her heart skipping, lightening. Warmth not caused by the sunlight suffused her being.
How very easy it was to speak to Dominic. He made her feel both comfortable and comforted.
Dominic brought his horse closer, leaning forward until she could feel the heat of his face against hers.
“Your aunt and uncle were very wrong about one thing,” he said in a husky, low voice that put tremors in her belly.
“What?” she asked in a shallow, breathless voice that sounded unfamiliar to her ears.
He grinned, the lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, unbearably attractive. “You are not plain.”
* * *
Dominic could not take his eyes from the woman riding in front of him. Radiant. That was the word that came to mind. Effervescent, even. And the irony was that she had no idea, or perhaps she did not even care. She called herself plain.
If one did not speak to her, one might make such an assumption. But he remembered the first time he’d seen her, hovering over him, eyes alight, alive...with warmth. Compassion. Dark with intelligence, and because she’d been so close, he’d noticed her lips.
Despite the pain he’d been in, those lips had made a quite remarkable impression on him.
They rode past the estate now, not venturing closer. Louise and Henrietta were ahead of him, discussing flowers and herbs. He gripped the reins, urging his mount to pick up pace. He should not have said such a thing to Henrietta about her looks. She was the governess and not even a permanent one, at that.
He hoped she stayed a few years, at least. Long enough to prepare Louise for society, or until his niece was ready to enter a finishing school.
He read the longing in her eyes to practice medicine again. Any flirtation would be temporary, at best, and though it amused him to put color in her cheeks, he needed to exercise more self-control. There was also the matter of his illness.
He was in no position to indulge in any romances. Not with Barbara’s constant desire to take Louise and Old John’s threats to expose his epilepsy. He was to make another payment soon. A nuisance, and everything in him protested the acquiescence to the spineless blackmailers.
He pulled up alongside the ladies. “Where are we headed, as Morningside Manor is now behind us?”
“The cemetery,” said Louise. “I picked flowers for Henrietta’s parents.”
But when they reached the spot of their burial, and dismounted, there were already flowers at the mausoleum door. He caught the shock flitting across Henrietta’s face. Masking it, she dropped to her knees, hands clasped.
“Someone has brought my parents fresh flowers.”
Louise slipped her hand into Dominic’s. “Does that mean they are missed?”
“Yes,” he answered. “And cared for. Are you sure you do not want to make a call on your cousin?”
“The Season has started, and I doubt anyone is home.” She stood, shaking debris from her skirts.
“Take a second alone.” Dominic steered Louise toward the horses. Well he recalled visiting the graves of his family. It was a private moment, for reflection, for remembrance. But as they waited with their horses, he found that the wan complexion and sober set of Henrietta’s lips bothered him.
She did not take long and when she walked back to them, a telltale sheen dusted her eyelashes.
“Let’s eat,” said Louise, who had been suspiciously quiet this time. She, too, felt the sadness of the visit. They stopped to picnic near a stream. The trees offered shade, but the meal was quick. He could see the distraction in Henrietta as she ate.
“The village should have an herb shop,” he said as they packed up. “We will inquire about who leaves the flowers.”
“Someone who loved my parents,” said Henrietta.
“Agreed.”
The ride to the village did not take long. It was a quaint little town with various shops and an inn, just as he expected. They left their horses at the livery to be fed and watered for the return ride to St. Raven. As they neared the herb shop, Dominic spotted a familiar figure.
The apothecary, striding toward them with a leer, prompted Dominic to pause outside the door. Instead of going inside with the ladies, he crossed the street, hoping his blackmailer would follow him.
Old John met him on the corner of the walkway. He spoke before Dominic. “I’ve been waiting.”
“You’ll have your money.”
Old John cackled, rubbing his hands together. “It’ll be double this time, for your tardiness.”
Dominic’s jaw hardened. “It is not due until tomorrow.”
“We changed our minds.”
Never negotiate with a blackmailer. It’s not that he didn’t understand that no good would come of this situation, it was simply that at the moment he didn’t feel he
