Lady of the Rose (6 page)

It took Harriet less than half an
hour to pack everything she had brought with her to the Hall.
Before she left, she slipped into Margaret's room and found her
sleeping.
Margaret almost had her full color back, and the doctor
said she should be able to be moved in the next day or so.
Harriet
decided not want to wake her.
On her way out the door, she left a
note by the bed, telling Margaret that she was going home to
Thornwood Park and would see her there soon.

She found Jonah the butler in the
dining room, polishing the Dowager's prize silver.
He was intent
upon his work and did not look up when she came into the room.
When
she coughed to make him aware of her presence, he straightened
immediately and gave her a slight bow.
“May I be of some service,
Miss Davenport?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.
I will be leaving
the Hall today, and I was hoping you might arrange to have my
things sent along after me.”

Jonah gaped at her for a moment
before recollecting himself, “Of course, Miss.
Straight away.
I am
sure you are eager to be off.”

For a wild moment, Harriet was sure
he had heard everything Lady Whitney had said to her on the stairs,
and she had just confirmed the truth of it by leaving so suddenly.
Blushing, she said, “I'm afraid I am needed at home, and since my
sister is doing so well, I thought I might go ahead of
her.”

Jonah looked contrite, knowing he
should not have said anything that made Harriet feel the need to
explain herself.
He prided himself on being a butler of the
traditional sort.

“I will see to it, Miss.” He bowed
much lower this time.

The stable hands went to saddle her
horse with all due speed, seeming to sense her impatience.
Unfortunately, so did her mare, and she was stamping and pulling
away from the young man trying to get her ready, and generally
making a nuisance of herself.

“Oh, just stay still, will you?”
Harriet finally cried, stamping her foot in exasperation after the
hand's fourth attempt to put on the saddle.

“I've never found that my horse
responds well to tantrums, personally.”

Harriet whirled around to see George
leaning casually against the wall of the stable, arms folded across
his chest.
He looked slightly disheveled, his sleeves rolled back
from his forearms, a lock of black hair falling across his
forehead, like a letter c above his eye.
He looked more like the
man she had seen when she first came to the hall, up to his elbows
in mud, than she had seen him since her arrival.
He was staring
intently at her, and she had to look away.

“I was not having a tantrum.
I was
venting my frustrations through the heel of my shoe.”

“Different, is it?” he asked, though
she heard no humor in his voice.
His voice was flat, even
emotionless.

“Much.” Harriet kept her eyes glued
on the ground.
She did not even notice that the hand had finally
managed to get the saddle on her mare, until he handed her the
reins.

“May I ask where you are
going?”

“Home.
Margaret is going to be fine,
and my father needs me.
My brother is waiting, and I'm sure Lillian
has had her hands full with Mother.” Harriet realized she was
babbling and pressed her lips shut to stop herself from going
on.

“Oh, good.
You have reasons.
I was
worried you were leaving to get away from me after the way that
Janet spoke to you this morning.”

Harriet looked sharply up at him.
He
was still leaning against the railing, every appearance of
nonchalance, but when she looked closer, she saw the strain around
his mouth and the way his eyes searched her.
All the time he had
been standing there, she had kept herself upright by not looking
into his eyes.
When they met, she felt herself deflate, falling
towards the ground.
George was at her side in a second, supporting
her, holding her, kissing her.
She tasted salt on his lips and
realized she was crying.

“Did you honestly think I would let
you leave, without so much as a word?” he whispered in her
ear.

“I couldn't see you again and still
leave.
Obviously,” she said, sniffling.

“Why are you leaving?” he asked.
Harriet looked into his eyes and saw the honest question in
them.

“Because you are marrying Lady
Whitney,” she said, bluntly.

“I am?
That is news to
me.”

Harriet searched his face, not yet
allowing herself to hope.

“Janet said...” she
began.

“Oh, I have heard all about what
Janet said.
She may have plans for me, but that does not mean I
have had anything to do with them,” he said, dryly.
“I have other
plans for my marriage, with a woman whom I happen to actually
love.”

Whatever else he was going to say
was lost when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him
fervently.

After several moments, she pulled
away.
“You did mean me, didn't you?”

George laughed out loud and brushed
the hair back from her face.
“You should hope I meant you, now that
the entire staff and most of the household will know that we have
been embracing in the stable.
Now, come inside, we have much to
discuss.”

Harriet hesitated, “What about Lady
Whitney?”

George affected a frown, a small
crease settling itself between his eyes.
“As my brother's widow,
she will always have the protection of this family, but I believe
she will have to content herself with living in the townhouse in
London.”

It was Harriet's turn to laugh.
She
placed her hand on the hook of his waiting arm and allowed him to
lead her back into the house.
On the way inside, George leaned down
to pluck a small white rose from the side of the path.
Deftly
removing the thorns in a series of swift motions, he placed it
gently behind her ear.

“It suits you,” he
decided.

“You are quite good at removing the
thorns,” she remarked.
“I've never seen anyone do it so
easily.”

At this, he looked pointedly at her,
laughter lighting up his eyes from within.
“I've had a great deal
of practice.”

He bent quickly to kiss her and cut
off any retort; she decided to let him.

~~~

About the Author:

Patricia Joseph is an elementary
school teacher living in Northern California with her husband.
She
writes in her spare time, when she isn't downloading every e-book
she can find.
Look for her next novelette about the Davenport
sisters,
Lily of the Valley
, coming soon from
Smashwords.com.