Page 114 of The Gentlewoman Companion

“And I have my own justification for staying away. I was admitted to the General Committee of the Foundling Hospital, to which I am determined to give my full attention. I must report to London for a meeting. You will be pleased to know that while I am there, I intend to vote.”

“The act for the Hospital, I presume? Well, I am glad to hear it. I expected it would draw you back to parliament sooner or later. But that means time is short. You’d best be on your way to Wadebridge.”

Racing on Goliath to Wadebridge was the very thought that had circled his head endlessly these past months. Did he want her? Yes! his heart shouted. But did she want him? Doubt twisted with longing. “I feel safe with you,” she’d said. And that kiss. But why had she pushed him away so firmly when they’d parted ways? He stared out the window as the wind bent and twisted an oak tree.

“Do you love her?” his mother asked.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Will she accept me?” He voiced his final concern.

His mother made a very unladylike noise that resembled a snort. “You won’t know until you ask her.”

“You think everyone likes me because you are my mother.”

“I think Louisa loves you because I watched her beside you for six months.”

He turned to face her. “What did you see?”

“She watched you like a flower follows the sun.”

“You told me she wasn’t ready for my advances.”

“She wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean she was not completely ensnared by your charms.”

“Now, that is taking it too far.”

“Take the letter. Charles is thriving. If nothing else, you will bring her happy tidings.”

Perhaps she was right. He had to ascertain Louisa’s own feelings. And if she rejected him, he would leave for London and try to cast her out of his heart forever.

He kissed his mother’s cheek. “I will leave tomorrow.”

James dismounted and walked out the stiffness from his legs as he approached Louisa’s “small—very small—estate,” as her father had described it when James had visited him to ask his permission to court Louisa. Ivy covered one side of the cottage, and a swath of wisteria grew over the front. Though modest, it exuded a certain elegance in the circular gravel path, the wisteria that bloomed over a stone wall, and the three dormer windows. It reminded him of its owner—beautiful and unexpected.

A boy appeared to take his horse. “You’re late.”

Late? “You are rather impertinent for saying so,” Halverton said.

“My name is John Pickett. Miss Louisa says impudence is my duty. I’ll not allow anyone inconveniencing or disrespecting her.”

It seemed Louisa had besotted this young man. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen, but don’t think I can’t handle myself. I’m strong.”

“I am glad Miss Thorpe has your protection.” He delivered his horse and watched John’s chest puff as he strode away.

The doorway leading to Louisa lay before him. The windows glinted, seeming to glare, and the wisteria whispered, mocking his hopes. He thwacked the door, then shook out his burning knuckles. From inside the house, a faint titter reached his ears. The sound of women’s laughter. Louisa was not alone. He pressed his ear against the door. A male voice this time.

She was just as well without him.

The voices approached, and he suddenly felt embarrassed to be caught there by strangers. He pushed himself away and ran to the side of the house, hearing the door snicker open.

“Someone was just here. Did I imagine that knocking?”

Louisa’s sweet voice!