They were so sweet that Lenore couldn’t help but smile, though she doubted her smile did much to improve her haggard appearance. “Take it from me, ladies,” she said on a sigh. “No good ever comes from putting your nose in where it shouldn’t be.”
Phin glanced up from reading her passport, then deliberately returned it to the box. A faint flush painted his cheeks as he reached for the teapot to refill his cup.
“I want to tell you something,” Lenore went on, reaching for Amaryllis and drawing the young girl closer. “I mean it when I say that looking through other people’s things will only ever get you in trouble. Believe me, I know. That is precisely why I find myself in the mess I’m in now. If I hadn’t looked through someone else’s things during a conference in Laramie, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“But we like having you here now,” Amaryllis said, blissful innocence in her large, blue eyes.
“Yes,” Gladys rushed to add. “We’re so happy to have met you. We wouldn’t have met you at all if you hadn’t come to England. And we wouldn’t know anything about baseball.”
Lenore’s brow shot up. Leave it to the youngest amongst them to point out the obvious. She glanced across the table to Phin—who was pretending not to pay attention. If she hadn’t nearly gotten herself killed by meddling in Bart’s affairs, she never would have begged her father to bring her to England. And if she’d never come to England, she never would have met Freddy or Reese or any of her other friends. Or Phin. And she wasn’t sure she could bear the thought of never meeting Phin.
“Go and collect the eggs, you two,” Hazel told the girls. “I’ll cook you all a fine breakfast, if you’ll just be patient.” She shot a pointed look to Phin as she spoke.
Lenore glanced between the brother and sister. Phin looked back at Hazel as if he’d been well and truly scolded and resented it. They’d clearly had some sort of conversation after Lenore had gone to bed the night before. Lenore just hoped it had been a productive one. At least Phin wasn’t arguing with her that morning.
“Phin, go see if Father is awake,” Hazel ordered.
Without a word, Phin got up and left the room.
Lenore continued to sit there in silence, sipping her tea and pouring herself a second cup, all while trying to work things out enough in her exhausted mind to know what to say to Phin. She was truly sorry that she hadn’t explained the truth to him earlier. She genuinely loved him. That thought hadn’t left her mind through the endless night, even though she tried to deny it. To no avail. Phin was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, something that was even more obvious when he carried his frail father into the kitchen and fussed silently over the man, making him as comfortable as he could. It was a damnable shame that she couldn’t have him. Not unless she faced Bart and attempted to work out some sort of a deal with him. She was entitled to an annulment, but the pulsing dread in her gut told her that would be about as unlikely as convincing Bart to take holy orders.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, once Mr. Mercer was settled and Phin had fixed a cup of tea that he was slowly feeding to him, as Hazel had bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove and the chickens outside clucked up a storm while the girls gathered eggs, Lenore found the courage to say, “I’m truly sorry for everything, Phin.”
“I know,” Phin replied, perhaps a little too fast. His jaw was as tight as a coiled spring, and he wouldn’t look at her, though Lenore had the distinct feeling that he wanted to look at her. He lowered the funnel he used for his father’s tea and sat lamely in his chair, as if he didn’t know what to do next.
“Believe me, it was never my intention for things to get so out of hand,” she went on. “If I had known I would fall so madly in love, I would have been open about everything from day one.”
His gaze snapped to her, and for a beautiful heartbeat, she swore she could see hope in his eyes. As soon as she saw it, though, Phin’s expression shuttered. “I do believe that you were frightened,” he said, glancing to his father as if the man would suddenly spout forth advice and make the entire thing better.
It wasn’t much of a concession, but it was enough to have Lenore breathing a sigh of relief. Of course, feeling relieved also sapped the last of her energy. She gulped another mouthful of tea, praying it was enough to give her strength for whatever came next. At least she had the peace and distance of Yorkshire and Hazel’s excellent cooking to give her time to form a plan.
That small hope was dashed minutes later when the girls came running back into the kitchen with a basket of eggs and an unfamiliar young man following them.
“Good morning, Mark,” Hazel addressed the young man, looking surprised to see him, and a bit flustered, if Lenore interpreted things right.
“Morning, Hazel.” The young man smiled and touched the brim of his hat to her. He nodded to Mr. Mercer and Phin as well. “Is there a Miss Lenore Garrett staying here?”
“That’s me,” Lenore said, twisting to face the young man, dread pooling in her stomach, making her question the wisdom of drinking so much tea so quickly.
Mark pulled is smile away from Hazel and stepped closer to Lenore. He reached into his pocket as he did and took out a folded piece of paper. “Telegram arrived for you late last night, miss,” he said. “Sorry I wasn’t able to get it to you sooner.”
“Thank you,” Lenore said in a
