“I see. Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”
“I do wonder, dear Wilz if you have any choice really considering that you’re … what I mean to say is that …” She dropped her head and concentrated on her breakfast but Billie could see the tinge of pink flushing over Gertie’s cheeks.
“Spit it out, there’s a love. I doubt you’ll offend me.”
Gertie’s glance darted around the room. “Well, considering that he’s your ‘lover’. Don’t you think you should marry him?”
She held back her sarcastic retort. “You mean make an honest woman of me?”
“I think you’re both well suited and Mama liked him rather a lot. I often wonder if she would have married Papa’s older brother if he hadn’t died in the war.”
She glanced across the table. “There must be a basis for that comment. Something said in passing perhaps that I may have missed?” Her second nature, the habit of digging deeper kicked in, thank goodness. If she was stuck in this time and place, she had to find the reason for it. Billie failed to believe it was a random twist of fate.
She felt like Wilz today. The longer she stayed here, the more she felt as though it was where she should be. She’d even managed to dress this morning without thinking she was in the wrong era. She was beginning to think like Wilhelmina, knew things that Billie couldn’t possibly have known.
Gertie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Mama often mentioned Reginald as you know, and every time she did, Papa would make a fuss, almost like a childish tantrum. Such a silly notion to go on about his only brother like that.” A moony look came over her face. “Reginald could have been her true love, and maybe he died before they could be together.”
“But wasn’t he already married with a son, namely Ernest, when he died?”
Gertie paused, a blank expression in her eyes before the truth hit her. “Oh, right. Of course. How silly of me.” She frowned. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Perhaps Mama missed out on the man she loved and settled for Papa instead. Maybe he wasn’t the first young man from that family to turn her head after all.”
“And that’s why Papa doesn’t want you to marry Ernest.” Gertie clapped her hands. “I get it now, Wilz. How very clever you are.”
The door opened and they both sat up straight making a concerted effort to concentrate on breakfast as if they hadn’t been gossiping. Gertie breathed a sigh of relief when the butler arrived with a fresh pot of tea in his hand.
As soon as she was able to, she grabbed her letter and excused herself from the table. She hurried up to her room and wondered how the heck she was going to find the ‘special place’ Ernest talked about, Mama’s summerhouse. She really should have asked Gertie where it was. And would he really ask her to give him an answer to his marriage proposal? Did she really want to get into that right now? She wanted to know more about the person she had become before making any major decisions. Billie sat down at the writing desk and opened the letter.
Her watch showed it was past the time she’d agreed to meet him in the forest. She’d have to go otherwise he might kick up a fuss. He had that kind of look in his eyes, not petulant, but fairly close to it. Rather than ask for directions, Billie decided to walk around and hope she accidently came across the summerhouse. Either that or he would come looking for her.
She hurried down the stairs and out of the front door, paused on the top step to check the driveway in case her car had magically materialized. No such luck. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she headed toward the lake. If she followed the path around the side of the house, she would come to the forest. She hadn’t explored that area yet, it was worth a try.
The morning dew still speckled the lawn, drops glistening in the early sun. The moment she wandered under the canopy of the trees, the temperature dropped and she rubbed her arms, tried to brush away the goose bumps covering her skin. An earthy, musty smell replaced the fresh sun kissed grass aroma as she trudged through the fallen leaves, the crackling sound under her feet loud in the quiet cool of the forest.
A well-trodden path veered off to her left and she followed it for want of a better idea. She brushed past low bushes, the moisture dampening her legs and the hem of skirt. So lost in her own thoughts, when Ernest stepped out from behind a large weeping tree, she cried out in fright.
“Wilz, where on earth have you been? I was starting to get worried.” He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could move away, sliding his hand around her elbow. “Sorry, my love. Come on, let’s talk about this before I have to go back to Maitland.” Ernest guided her along the dirt path until they came to a small summerhouse set deep in the forest.
The moss-green walls blended with the surrounding trees. It was perfectly hidden away from prying eyes. The white-edged windows sat either side of the door like eyes topped off with silver aged cedar tiles on the roof.
“Dear Wilz. I miss you when I’m away.” His finger traced the line of her jaw sending the pulse in her throat thumping. He really did have fascinating eyes and she focused on them, watching the size of his pupils change. Whether she liked it or not, her presence had caused his reaction. “What are we going to do about your father?”
“What about him?” She blinked as his lips descended on hers.
