Chapter-Five

The coach turned off the main road, causing us to sway in our seats.

“I see it!” Ruth pressed herself against the window, her neck craned. “Oh Fairhaven, how I have missed you!”

Her excitement was a touch excessive, but even I couldn’t conceal my eagerness to catch a glimpse of the house I had heard spoken of over and over throughout our seemingly endless journey.

Leaning toward Augustus’s window, I became distracted by his nearness yet again. The warmth of his breath caressed my neck when he drew closer still, and a shiver moved through me.

“I do hope Ruth did not set your expectations of Fairhaven too high,” he whispered.

I shook my head, pretending I was unaffected by both his proximity and the intimate volume of his voice. “I am certain it shall prove to be equal to her praises.”

Just then, the house came into view. A red brick structure accented with canted windows and white, Greek-inspired columns. It was three stories high, but the trees surrounding it somehow managed to enclose it as though it were nothing more than a mere cottage.

It was precisely how I envisioned it. “How charming.”

Ruth wore a satisfied smile. “Isn’t it the loveliest place in all of England?” She scanned the scene again as if taking it in for the first time.

A small divot in the drive caused my shoulder to bump into Augustus’s chest, but before he could right me a third time this trip, I retracted back into the safety of my seat. “I can see why you consider it so, Ruth.”

When the coach rolled to a stop, Augustus tossed open the door and stepped out to the obvious delight of two women hurrying out of the house to greet us.

“Mother. Sarah,” he called, moving to them. Through the open door, I watched him place a kiss on each of their cheeks.

Ruth clambered out unassisted and hurried to the beckoning arms of her aunt. The squeals pierced the silence as the three women embraced. Had they not just seen one another a fortnight ago?

Augustus admired the group a moment then returned to the carriage to offer me his assistance. I took hold of his hand, his attentive regard warming me in combination with the women’s shift of interest in my direction.

“They do not know,” he whispered.

I paused mid-descent, furrowing my brow.

“The question you asked me earlier—if my family knew what had transpired between us. They are not aware of it. Not even Ruth.”

Relief flooded over me, and I completed my descent. “Since you had the consideration to confess before introductions, I may come to forgive your excessive delay in answering—eventually.”

He laughed, relinquishing his aid only to set his hand on my back to guide me forward. “Mother, you recall Miss Godwin?”

“Of course I do.” Mrs. Brundage’s sparkling blue eyes danced happily in the daylight. “And how lovely you’ve grown, Miss Godwin. Though it should be no great surprise, as it was always apparent you’d be most handsome.”

“You are too kind.” I looked to the younger woman standing near. She was no more than sixteen or seventeen, with a feminine loveliness that offset the strong likeness to her brother. I wondered at how a plain woman like Mrs. Brundage should have such attractive offspring. Perhaps she had been a beauty in her younger years as her sister had been. Though it was just as likely that their looks could be credited to the late Mr. Brundage, despite my inability to conjure an image of him.

Augustus sent his sister an affectionate wink. “Miss Godwin, may I introduce you to my sister, Sarah?”

“But I’ve already met your sister.” The memories of her were nearly too faint to evoke, as she had chosen to remain behind with her mother the only time I recalled them visiting the Setons, but it was important to make a person feel remembered. I gave her my sweetest smile. “Though I would not blame you if you do not recall, Miss Brundage.”

Sarah’s cheeks pinkened in a most endearing manner. “I remember.”

I faced Augustus. “See, there? I’m not entirely forgettable.” I turned back to Mrs. Brundage before he could respond. “Thank you for allowing me to visit. I very much look forward to becoming reacquainted with Ruth after all these years.”

“And Augustus,” Ruth added, causing my smile to falter.

I compelled the corners of my mouth to lift again. “Yes, of course.”

Mrs. Brundage reached out and briefly took hold of my hand. “We are honored to have you here, my dear. But you must be anxious to rest after two days in a carriage. Come, I will show you to your room.”

The mere thought of being alone was so entirely welcome, it was unnecessary to feign gratitude. “That would be wonderful, Mrs. Brundage.”

I walked beside Mrs. Brundage up the front steps toward the entrance.

“She is so lovely.” Sarah’s voice was hardly discernible when I overheard it from behind.

“I’m certain we are not the only ones who think so.” Ruth giggled. “You should have seen how your brother kept watching her, and when she fell asleep on him—”

“Ruth!” I spun toward her, my face flushed from the idea of Augustus’s sister hearing such nonsense. “Did you say the stables were directly behind the house? I seem to have already forgotten your explanation.”

Ruth sprang up the last of the steps to join me. “Not directly behind, but set to the northwest. Would you care for a tour later? I shall even introduce you to Guinevere.”

“Guinevere?”

“My mare.” Her eyes grew in size. “Did I not mention her yet? That is a most tragic oversight on my part. She is the most stunning horse you shall ever see. Her coat is all white, but her nose and feet look as though they have been dipped into a pool of golden-brown paint.”

“She sounds exquisite.” I linked my arm with Ruth’s, ensuring she did not return to her cousin’s side to gossip about my folly. “I shall very much look forward to meeting your Guinevere.”

“She was a surprise from Uncle Henry. He knew how much I missed Daisy. You remember my pony Daisy, do you not?”

An image of the lovely chestnut-colored mare surfaced in my mind. “Of course I do.”

Ruth squeezed my arm in apparent appreciation. “Well, Uncle Henry felt awful that I had been forced to leave her at Blacksley. And when he had no success in retrieving her, he bought me Guinevere to offer in her place.” Ruth sighed. “Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of how fortunate I am to be so loved.”

I caught sight of Mrs. Brundage wiping a tear from her cheek. I doubted she had been as fond of her late husband in life as she apparently was in death, despite how sincere she appeared. Mother would certainly not shed a tear for Papa unless she thought it expected.

“Here we are.” Mrs. Brundage stopped in front of a door and opened it.

The room that had been prepared for me wasn’t as sizeable as the rooms I was accustomed to, but it had an air of comfort I was not familiar with. Everything, including the set of drawers, somehow looked friendly, as though nothing need be handled with care. True, it wasn’t decorated according to latest fashions, but I was quite pleased with it.

“This shall do very well.” I turned toward Mrs. Brundage who watched me anxiously.

Her face lit up. “I’m very glad you find it acceptable, Miss Godwin. I know it probably isn’t as grand as you are used to, but I have always preferred comfort over extravagance.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Not that being extravagant is bad nor necessarily uncomfortable. I just prefer simplicity.” The color in her face deepened to scarlet.

I offered a courteous smile. “I can see why you prefer this style. It has a friendliness about it that perfectly suits what I have heard of Fairhaven.”

Mrs. Brundage and Ruth beamed at my compliment, though Sarah didn’t look up from her twirling fingers.

“And I’m just the next room over if you should need me.” Ruth looked giddy with the idea of being so near. “Dinner is at six.” Mrs. Brundage paused. “Unless, that is, you prefer to have it postponed to a later hour during your stay?”

Unwilling to remind her that she was the hostess and therefore was the one to decide such things, I shook my head. “Six is most agreeable.”

“Very good.”

We stood a moment in silence before I clasped my hands before me. “I shall see you at six, then?”

Mrs. Brundage’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course. Yes. We must be on our way.” She nearly pushed the two young ladies from the room, and Ruth lifted onto her toes and waved at me from the corridor. “Do not hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

I offered one last smile. “I will not. Thank you.” As I closed the door, I let out a heavy sigh and leaned my head against it. After a few moments of silent reprieve, I made my way to the looking glass. Thankfully, I didn’t appear nearly as fatigued as I felt.

A slight knock sounded, and Leah stepped into the room.

I met her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “Are you as exhausted as I am, Leah?”

Leah’s lips curled upward ever so slightly at the corners. “Your friend has quite a talent for conversation.”

“She certainly does. Though I hope it will only be a matter of time before I grow accustomed to it again.”

Leah retrieved my discarded bonnet and the gloves I’d tossed on the bed, and placed them in the wardrobe. “Mr. Brundage seems reason enough to endure any amount of prattle.”

I spun toward her in my chair and rose to my feet. “I will not stand idly by while you speak of your superiors in such a manner.” Recalling the touch of pink in Leah’s cheeks when Augustus had spoken to her in London made my blood boil. “Mr. Brundage’s position, as well as Ruth’s, demands both respect and distance from someone of your station.”

Leah dropped her head. “Forgive me, miss.”

My headache intensified, and I rubbed at my temples. How I hated getting upset, but I could not tolerate such behavior from a servant. Leah’s last employer may have allowed for the improper familiarity, but Mother had warned me of the hazards of permitting such casual conduct from a servant. A firm hand was needed, and yet my determination waivered when I appraised her downcast countenance. “Go see about my trunks.”

She moved toward the door and stopped, turning toward me again, her head still lowered.

“What is it?” Though my patience was on unsteady ground, I managed to keep my voice unaffected.

“I have a missive from your father.” She extended a letter toward me. “He told me to deliver it once we had arrived at Fairhaven.”

I stepped forward to retrieve the letter, uncertain why Papa had not just given it to me on our parting. Was there a reason I was not to read it until now? “Thank you. You may go.”

Leah hurried from the room, and I lifted the missive to examine it. This must be Papa’s ill-timed explanation of why he had sent me here. I shook my head at the memory of how it had all come to pass, and broke the seal.

My Dearest Girl,

Though I am certain you shall later demand a more thorough apology, I hope you are not too disappointed in me nor in the situation in which you find yourself. After much consideration, including the regrettable reality that your mother must be kept ignorant of your whereabouts, I have concluded that the greater offense would be to keep you from one of your dearest friends now that Providence has reunited you. Particularly when it is evident how desperately she needs your guidance. Do assist her.

All my love,

Papa

I flipped the page over in hopes of discovering a postscript that contained a more thorough explanation or the actual apology Papa had alluded to. Yet, it was hardly a surprise to find both omitted.

I released an agitated sigh and reread his scribbled hand a second time, my consideration drawn to the last three words of his text: do assist her. Was this to do with my comment after first parting ways with Ruth? When I had mentioned that I’d hardly met a lady so poorly trained? And why, if it was the reason, would Papa place the task on me? Surely he had no responsibility for Ruth.

But perhaps it was an act of charity for an old neighbor in obvious need of help. Papa did always see it as part of his role as a politician to give some opportunity to the lesser among us. And who better to offer Ruth that support? I surely had her best interest at heart, and, as one of the ton’s Incomparables, I was well aware what aspects of training would be most beneficial to a lady of her situation.

A surprising surge of excitement rushed through me at the thought of amending Ruth’s unfortunate upbringing, at least in part. Now I simply needed to conceive a way for her to request my intervention, for I would hate to be regarded as patronizing.

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