Page 53 of The Gentlewoman Author

They could not make a formal announcement. That was beyond what she had agreed to, and the more people who knew, the harder it would be to extricate herself. Mary could see this getting away from her but did not wish to appear unladylike in front the strangers. She nudged Daniel.

“We have a particular wish to wait,” he said.

Mrs. Fletcher’s eyes lingered on the elbow Mary had used to prod Daniel. “You’re old enough to know your mind.”

Mary bristled.

“And if Emma comes to visit, how will you explain Mrs. Allen’s presence?”

“I am a friend from Bath come to help whilst Mr. Fletcher is ill,” Mary said.

Mrs. Fletcher laughed, but she was not pleased. “Then you could not have come at a better time. Truth be told, I spend my days here and have little idea what the servants are doing. Half the time, no one responds to the bell. They were an unmanageable bunch before Roger’s injury, and I’ve no idea what they are up to now. Do let me know when you are ready to make the engagement known.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.”

“Florence, remember?”

Mary did remember, but she would not be addressing that woman as anything but Mrs. Fletcher. Under the circumstances, it would be indecent.

Daniel took Mary’s arm. “Come, I will give you a tour.”

“Let’s walk outside. The weather is lovely.”

“There is a pond on the west side of the castle. I’ll show you.”

They left the sickroom and made their way into the entrance hall, where Daniel paused and said, “I feel a fool for not predicting my mother’s response. I will tell them the truth.” He raked his hand through his hair.

“Your father is not well.”

“True, but I cannot see that the deceit is worth the prize. He would be furious.”

She liked his parents. They were both so full of joy, so different from their quiet son. This charade would hurt them if they knew, so they must not find out.

“I leave in the morning. You can make up an excuse for my departure and prolong the pretense until you find someone to wed, though you must act quickly. Then, tell them how awful I am, and they can loath me from a distance. You will keep your castle and not upset your parents.” She swallowed, aware that finding a wife was not the work of a few days.

A maid approached, “A letter for you, ma’am.” She extended a folded page and left Mary and Daniel alone in the entrance hall.

“I will leave you to your letter,” Daniel said.

Mary scarcely heeded his departure. The letter was from Agnes. She snapped the seal.

Dear Mary,

I have Louisa. She is safe and whole, though rattled. I will bring her to you.

It was postmarked three days earlier, meaning they would arrive in a week.

“Daniel!” She stood and began running down the hall. He turned and rushed toward her. “She is found.” In a few paces, she embraced him, faint and needing to be held. She closed her eyes and exhaled the gust of the worry that festered over the past weeks. No matter that his arms remained at his sides, his touch allowed her to sink into the news. All may be well. His arms lifted, forcing hers around his neck. His hand pressed between her shoulder blades, the other on the small of her back. Against his chest, the steady thump of his heart reassured her more profoundly than anything else. His breath threaded through her hair as he rested his chin on her head. His embrace was a warm fire on a cold night, the first bite of food after skipping a meal, a soft pillow to a tired head.

She could remain there forever, but she pushed away enough to look at him, ready to discuss Louisa. The words were lost under the force of his gaze. He pulled her to him once more with a gentle but urgent force. Something shifted. This was not the chaste hold of a friend.

“Mary, I am so relieved.” His voice emerged in a coarse whisper, but it snagged, reminding her that this meant the pretense of their engagement must continue until Louisa arrived.

“I presume we have a little longer to play this little game?”

He stepped away from her, turning away. “I suppose.”

Was he displeased? “I can stay at an inn, if that is better.”