“Oh, sorry,” she gasped, startled and confused at his abruptchange in demeanour.
“Just forget it!” Gathering up all the bags, he then headed tothe door. “The car should be here by now.” Without another word, heleft her standing there wondering what she had discovered. Anenvelope addressed to Crispin Hewson from someone named P. Harlowof Harlow Manor. She hadn’t caught the full address. She hadn’tgotten the chance before Crispin snatched the envelope from herhand. The only other thing she caught was Gloucestershire, UnitedKingdom.
***
Withoutincident, Gwen and Crispin arrived in Bath and with the help of theGPS, found the Ivy House B&B and checked in. Gwen would haveenjoyed this part of the trip more if Crispin hadn’t been in such afoul mood. Ever since the envelope incident, he hadn’t uttered aword except for cursing and grumbling as he drove and navigated theroute. He did impress her with how quickly he adjusted to drivingon the opposite side of the road. But instead of enjoying the trip,she sat fretting the entire time. What had she done? Had she ruinedthe remainder of their trip? Had she crossed some terrible line?Just when she thought her anxiety was under control, it now had herwithin its grips, once again.
When bookingthis particular B&B, she and Stacy had thought it would be funbecause the rooms were named after famous Lords and Ladies fromback in the day. But all that seemed silly now with Crispin beingin such a state. When they stepped into the fancy turretedpowder-blue themed room, named The Lord Elgin room, he scowled andscoffed all the more. His mood continued to deteriorate as hehuffed and puffed around the room, all the while muttering hisdistaste for the fancy decor. By the time they settled in, insteadof being excited to tour the beautiful city of Bath, Gwen satvisibly deflated on the chair by the window and stared blankly atthe garden out back. She had given up trying to engage him since hehad already bitten her head off twice. She couldn’t help but wonderwhat exactly upset him? Was it her discovery of that letter? Or thecontent within? Who was this mysterious Harlow of Harlow Manor, andhow did he know Crispin Clover, or was he, in fact, CrispinHewson?
His renewedflipping of her itinerary stirred her from her thoughts. Scoffingat whatever it was he read, he shut it, tossed in a drawer andstood up. He then put on his dark coat, slipped his hands into hispockets and waited by the door.
“Whenever you’re ready, Gwen,” he said with lacklustreenthusiasm.
“Never mind, Crispin,” she said as she stood up. “We don’t haveto go if you’re not into it.” She almost hoped he’d rather skipsightseeing today. As much as she looked forward to seeing thebeautiful city of Bath, she suddenly hadn’t the energy to leave theroom. With him in his current mood, she didn’t think she couldhandle being out and about.
Watching Gwen’sforlorn posture and the way she toyed self-consciously with herfingers, Crispin took a deep breath and sighed. Averting his eyes,he then rested his head back against the door. After a fewcontemplative moments, he spoke before leaving the room. “I’ll waitfor you outside.”
***
The city centrewas a short walk from the B&B, and while Crispin started outhoofing it ahead of her, he eventually slowed his steps and heldout his hand. Relieved and glad he had let his guard down even justa little, Gwen caught up to him and accepted his kind gesture. Bathwas a beautifully romantic city and to tour it in such a sour moodwould have been a terrible shame.
Havingcommitted Gwen’s itinerary to memory, Crispin did his best to keepto the plan. This was all so important to her and he refused to lethis mood alter the course. First on the list was the Abbey, a500-year-old perpendicular Gothic church, followed by a tour of theRoman and Medieval Baths. Gwen should have been smiling more at thesight of such stunning scenery, as should he, and under any othercircumstances, he would have been impressed by the combination ofGothic and Georgian architecture. But, unfortunately, he could notget that letter out of his mind.
None of it wasGwen’s fault, but he could sense her confusion and tell she blamedherself for his bad mood. He needed to apologize, to explain why hehad reacted badly when she had discovered that letter. In truth, hehad almost forgotten he had brought it with him. Then as if fatewere mocking him, the moment he had locked eyes with a curious townon the map when planning the route from Windsor to Bath, Gwen haddiscovered the envelope which had originated from the sameaddress.
“Come, sit,” he said, having just purchased a couple of CornishPasties from a bakery. He led the way to a bench. It wasn’t anideal location to tell her what weighed most on his mind. Theyfaced a busy touristy town square, but in a way, it worked for him.The hustle and bustle of passing tourists gave them both somethingto focus on while he searched for the courage to speak.
Gwen waitedpatiently, taking small bites of her tasty local pastry andsoothing sips of tea. She no longer blamed herself for his turn inmood. She now realized he simply was who he was. Complicated. Theyboth had their issues, neither were perfect. She had her anxietieswhich surprisingly had taken a backseat the last little while, andhe had his own demons to deal with. There were many layers toCrispin and she looked forward to discovering them all.
As they hadtoured the beautiful old church, she had noticed his anger lessen.He had gradually come around. He had even snuck a kiss to her cheekwhen no one was looking. While holding her hand, she hadn’t missedthe gentle swipes of his thumb over her knuckles, his way ofcommunicating without words. He often did that despite his mood. Itwas a sweet
