Page 11 of A Beguiled Gentleman (The Bradley Brothers #1)

Chapter 11

Hannah awoke two days later with a heart full of hope. Noah had quickly become a good friend, but the idea of having a young woman to confide in and go for walks and have tea with . . . it pleased Hannah more than she had realized it would. It had been so long since she’d had such a companion, and today, a large group of friends were going to see a folly together. The slow, drizzling rain of yesterday made Hannah worry their excursion would be cancelled, but she awoke to the sun shining brightly in a blue sky.

Joyce helped her dress into a soft blue muslin day dress, and Hannah selected her nicest bonnet, trimmed in a crisp white ribbon. She paired it all with short, white gloves, choosing to forgo the lace for today. Hannah doubted Noah would remember Margaret’s gloves from when he proposed, but she did, and did not wish to take any chances. Hannah wanted him to have a day of fun and adventure without anything bringing down his mood. He had suffered enough these last weeks, and she longed to see his smile—completely unburdened by life or circumstances.

Hannah looked into the mirror and twirled a small piece of hair around her finger to help the ringlet curl about her face. She tilted her head. Would Noah notice her appearance? Had he ever? While Hannah knew his heart was likely still healing, a small part of her wondered if he ever saw her as anything more than a friend. He was a man, and she was a woman, after all. It did not seem too far of a stretch to wonder if he had ever admired her.

A bird outside of her window sang, and Hannah let herself sit and be. To listen to the feathered creature’s beautiful song, to let the sun stream into her room and light up the small particles of dust that practically sparkled in the bright light. What a funny thing. The sun could make something beautiful that is often seen as unwanted. How many other things in life could benefit from light shining upon them and showing all of their possibilities?

And then Noah’s face appeared in her mind—smiling wide as his deep-brown eyes gazed at her. She had never felt more seen in all of her life than when she was with Noah. It seemed to be a gift of his. He made one feel important and cared for, regardless of station, appearance, or, in her case, impetuousness.

Hannah looked at her wardrobe, knowing she had half a bag of bittersweet chocolate nonpareils, lemon drops, and marzipan hidden at the bottom, tucked as far back as they could go. Noah had got his way, and they had purchased them all, then proceeded to divide the sweets between the two of them. Now her chocolate had a slightly sour flavor, her lemon drops a hint of marzipan, and the marzipan . . . well, it did not seem to be at a disservice like the others. And every time Hannah pulled out her sweets, savoring the sugary tartness, she relived the sheer joy Noah had radiated when talking about his success in court. What a blessing it was to be with and bask in his light.

“Miss,” Joyce said, reentering Hannah’s room. “The party is here.”

Hannah jerked out of her reverie. “Of course. Thank you, Joyce. I shall be right down.”

She secured the ribbon of her bonnet beneath her chin and made her way downstairs. Murmuring voices caught her ear, and she looked up to find Mrs. Baxton standing in the foyer with her daughter, Sarah.

Sarah sent her a smile and wave, and when Hannah arrived at her side, she clutched her arm. “Is it not the most perfect day to go visit a folly? Though, now that I think of it,” her smile fell and her brow puckered, “wouldn’t a gloomy day be more fitting? Dark and Gothic and spooky . . .”

Hannah laughed. “While I admire your imagination and spirit, I think you were correct with your first thought. The sunshine will give us a beautiful day for a walk.”

“I suppose.” Miss Baxton sighed. “Though one day it would be most grand to return when fog is creeping across the ground.” She narrowed her eyes, staring off into the distance. “Perhaps we shall hear screams from the ghost of a woman who had once been trapped in a tower long ago—”

“Goodness,” Hannah said with another laugh. “Is that true?”

“What?” Sarah jerked her head back toward Hannah.

“That a young woman had been held captive in a tower there. At the folly.”

“Oh, no.” Sarah waved a hand. “The building is not an authentic ruin, of course. That is only something I like to pretend to make it more exciting. Otherwise we shall only be walking about the grass. Which seems a tad uneventful, really. Though, with you in attendance, I am sure our walk will be much more riveting.”

This caught both mothers’ attention, both of whom had previously been chatting with one another. Mrs. Gibbons’s brow crinkled.

“What are you girls talking about?” Mrs. Baxton asked, her mouth forming a curious smile.

Sarah spun toward her. “Just about the walk today and how Hannah will make it much more exciting.”

“And,” Hannah’s mother began, “exactly how will her presence make the day more exciting?”

Hannah’s chest burned with worry as she glanced between her mother and Sarah.

“She just has a way about her,” Sarah said. “And I adore it. Today would likely be quite boring otherwise.”

“As long as there are no bees about, is that not right, Miss Gibbons?” Mrs. Baxton smiled, completely unaware of the ramifications her words could have. The poor woman was only trying to join in on the girls’ conversation. But she had done so much more . . .

“What’s this about bees?” Mrs. Gibbons asked, turning toward Mrs. Baxton.

“I did not see the incident,” Mrs. Baxton went on, smiling and completely oblivious to Hannah’s warning gaze. “But it seems your daughter is not fond of bees.”

“No, she is not.” Mrs. Gibbons’s words were hesitant—searching.

“It provided Sarah with quite the laugh,” Mrs. Baxton went on. “What a delight Miss Gibbons will be to have along with us today.”

“I am sure Lord Noah will protect you, if need be,” Sarah said, giggling. “Though, I am surprised your squeals are not enough to scare the insects away in the first place.”

Hannah slowly turned her head toward her mother, her neck strained. When Hannah met her mother’s eyes, they were exactly as she had feared. Narrowed. Censorious. Warning. Hannah tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.

“You will behave yourself today, Hannah.”

Hannah quickly nodded. “Of course.”

“Oh, posh.” Mrs. Baxton waved her hand. “We shall have the grandest of times. And I shall make sure everyone behaves.”

“I should hope so,” Mrs. Gibbons said. “My daughter’s reputation is quite important, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Mrs. Baxton’s smile dimmed. “Of course. We care very much about our children. But it is not wrong to have a bit of frivolous fun every now and again.” Mrs. Baxton put a hand to each of the girls’ backs. “Now let’s move along. We cannot allow the day to get away from us, and we have several others awaiting us in the carriages.” Mrs. Baxton waved at Hannah’s mother without looking back. “Your daughter is in good hands, Mrs. Gibbons. Do not fret.”

Hannah braved one last look at her mother, but instantly wished she hadn’t. Her eyes were hard and unmoving—and Hannah was caught in their crosshairs.

She walked to the waiting carriage, but her feet were sluggish, almost as if she were trudging through muck and mire instead of stepping across a neatly groomed drive. She tried to take slow breaths, but her mind was in a whir of thoughts.

Would her mother make them leave over so little a thing as a bee? Hannah hoped that Mrs. Baxton’s pragmatic response would help, but if Hannah’s mother heard something from someone else with a less positive view of the situation, it could cause talk of moving again. And Hannah could not bear it. Not when she was making friends and settling in. But perhaps her thoughts were too hasty. It wasn’t as if she had thrown herself on a man in her attempt to get away from the bee.

“Miss Gibbons,” a familiar male voice called out.

Hannah lifted her head, trying to leave thoughts of her mother behind so she could enjoy her day. Noah sat in a carriage waving at her, and she did her best to summon a smile. He stepped down and helped Sarah and her up into their seats before reclaiming his own directly across from Hannah.

“What a beautiful day.” Noah tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “We could not have asked for better weather.” He brought his head back down and opened his eyes with a smile that was equal parts teasing and mischief. “And even better company.”

Hannah nodded with a forced grin, but she couldn’t find the joyous spirit that had been within her only a short time ago. A cloud had descended over her mood, and she wasn’t sure how to make it lift.

Sarah and Noah did most of the speaking on the four-mile ride. Every so often, they would try to engage Hannah in conversation, and she would supply answers and do her best to join in their camaraderie. But then her mother’s hardened stare would flash into her mind’s eye and her skin would grow cold. And all of this over a silly, stupid bee! What Hannah wouldn’t give to go back.

But, in truth, she wasn’t sure what else would have occurred. She had a horrid fear of the stinging things, and try as she might, she could not be relaxed when in proximity to one. But to think they might have to move again because of it? Hannah closed her eyes and laid her head back, trying to calm down and enjoy herself. Even if only by listening to the melody of her friends’ conversation. It was honestly a comfort to listen to. The easy back and forth. Hannah could hear the smile in Noah’s voice when he made a comment about the silent member of their party. She even swore that she could feel his gaze upon her. In an effort to not break the spell, she let herself lie as she was, basking in it all while trying to convince herself that her mother wouldn’t be so irrational as to move over such a small incident.

After nearly an hour, the carriages, filled with nearly twenty young men and women in all, rolled to a halt, and Hannah brought her head up. A rolling green landscape speckled with bright and happy wildflowers greeted her.

Noah grinned over at her as she straightened in her seat. “Well, well. She has awakened.”

“I suppose I did not sleep well last night,” Hannah said. “Forgive my rudeness.”

“Well,” Sarah said, “now you must wake up, for our adventure awaits.”

Noah exited the carriage, then helped each lady down to the thick grass.

“Have you all been here before?” Hannah asked as she gazed about.

“I have,” Sarah said. “As I’m sure Abigail and Jenny have. But I cannot say for sure.”

“I have as well.” Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked very much like a lemon drop, then tossed it into his mouth.

Hannah smiled. “Why did I not think to bring some?”

“Hm?” Noah spun his head toward her. “Did you say something?”

She raised her brow. “You know to what I refer.”

“What?” Sarah asked, completely unaware.

Noah sighed, then dipped his hand into his pocket. “Well done, Miss Gibbons. Now I have to share with everyone.”

“Nonsense,” Hannah said. “Just us three. The others are still alighting from their carriage.”

Noah handed out the sweets, and Sarah took hers with a pleased expression. Then her brow furrowed. “Do these . . .” She rolled the candy around in her mouth. “Do these taste like marzipan?”

Hannah covered her mouth before looking over at Noah. “I told you the flavors would blend.”

Noah waved her off. “It goes away after only a moment. No need to be so picky.”

The other members of their party walked over, and they all began the trek to the folly. Sarah joined two other ladies, and Noah sidled up beside Hannah.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Hannah kept her gaze ahead, fixing on the folly on the crest of the knoll they were slowly climbing. She lifted her chin. “They are immersed on the great anticipation I have to see this folly.”

“I do not believe it for one moment.” Noah squinted up at the sky as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Something is wrong.”

“And why would you say that?” The wind pulled at the brim of her bonnet, and her skirt pushed against her legs.

“Because you have hardly said more than two sentences all day.”

“I can assure you that I have spoken more than two in the entirety of the day.”

He rolled his head over to her, his stare flat. “You know what I mean. You have been suspiciously quiet. If it is a personal matter that you do not wish to discuss, then I shall leave it be. But if it’s something you might benefit from talking about . . .” He let his words hang as he watched her.

If she talked about it, it would become more real in her mind. The possibility of her mother overreacting and dragging her away from yet another home. Having to start all over again.

She shook her head. “No. I am fine.”

Noah nodded, then faced the group walking ahead of them. “Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Hannah put a hand to her bonnet, holding it in place as they spanned the last stretch of hill that held the decorative building. She looked up the tower to a window and envisioned a woman trapped within, staring down and watching them, helpless to join yet yearning to do so all the same. Hannah could not confess to such confinement, but there were times she felt that way. Watching from the outside, too scared to join for fear she would do something rash and cause her parents to whisk her away to a place where no one knew who they were. Perhaps it would be better for Hannah to hold people at arm’s length. Then it wouldn’t hurt so much when the friendships had to be severed.

Hannah sighed, then brought her gaze down, only to jerk back when she found Noah watching her.

Noah’s head gently dipped to the side. “What I wouldn’t give to see into that mind of yours.”

She put a hand to her chest and swallowed. “Excuse me?”

“The expression on your face as you stared at the tower. It was as if you were telling yourself a story—and I find myself wishing to know it.”

Hannah looked at the ground, feeling insecure under his gaze. “It was only something silly that Sarah had mentioned earlier.”

“Let me guess.” Hannah glanced up and found Noah grinning at her. Then he took a deep breath. “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “Nothing so romantic.”

“Are you going to leave me in suspense then?”

Hannah breathed a laugh, then looked up at the tower window again. People were swarming about the base of its walls, some going inside to climb the stairs and others taking a rest on the grass. “Sarah thought it would be rather fanciful to pretend a young woman had been trapped in the tower, going mad from her forced isolation.”

“Goodness,” Noah said. “That is rather dark.”

Hannah found herself transfixed—the world moving around her while she was transported to another time.

“You are telling yourself the story again,” Noah said softly.

Hannah’s eyes fluttered closed. “I only wondered if all towers have walls.”

“Something happened.” Noah took Hannah’s hand and placed it on his arm. “Please, tell me. You are always so quick to listen to me, but whenever we broach the subject of yourself, you close up. I want to listen, Hannah. Please.”

“I just—” Hannah’s voice caught. She took a moment to collect herself. The last thing she needed was to make another scene and give her mother more reasons to leave. “Remember the other day? When the bee was buzzing about my ear?”

“Yes,” Noah said, his brow furrowed as he gave a single nod.

“Well, today, while Mrs. Baxton was retrieving me, it came to be known to my mother.”

“About the bee.” Noah’s head tipped forward.

Hannah bobbed her head. “I know it sounds silly, but I saw it in her eyes, Noah. The warning. The deliberation in her mind.”

“What do you mean?” He took an infinitesimal step closer. “That she might honestly make you move because you were scared of a bee?”

“That is exactly what I mean.”

Noah scoffed. “That is utterly ludicrous. I know I had joked about it the other day, but I was not serious. She cannot possibly—”

“But she can,” Hannah said, cutting him off. “She will tell father that no man within earshot will have me and that we must be off to somewhere new.”

“And he will believe her?”

“He always has.”

There was silence for a moment as they both collected their thoughts.

“That is ridiculous,” Noah finally said. “You did nothing wrong. And your parents cannot keep moving you about the country. It is not sustainable. Nor is it fair.”

Hannah thought for a moment. “I believe my mother thinks she is doing me a favor. But I fear the truth of the matter is that they want my dowry to buy them into the right crowd. It seems to be as much for them as it is for me.”

His brow furrowed and his deep brown eyes held a tenderness to them that nearly made Hannah’s knees buckle. “I hate that they have done this to you. No one should have to fear the actions of their own family. They should make you feel safe and loved.” He looked at the ground, shaking his head. “I do not want you to leave.”

Noah’s words were soft and seemed to carry to her on the breeze. Like a gentle kiss, his words caressed her, filling in parts of her soul that she hadn’t realized needed filling. He was making her hungry for more—more attention from him, more sweet and tender words, more affectionate glances. But she needed to stop herself now, before she fell even further. It was difficult to say where his heart laid at the moment. He did not often speak of Margaret, but most people did not go about declaring their pain for all to hear. And Noah often masked his with smiles and good humor, making it near to impossible to know.

Hannah rubbed her arm as the wind took on a chill. “I suppose I will learn within the next few days. If I am lucky, no one will speak of it again and she might let it pass.”

Sarah suddenly appeared in the tower with Miss Grove and waved down at them, and Hannah returned the gesture.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Noah asked.

Hannah smiled to herself, loving that Noah had offered, even though she was quite sure there was nothing he could do.

“You can climb the tower with me.” She turned toward him. He wore a scowl—his mouth pulled to the side, but then it melted away when he could see she did not wish to speak of it further.

He offered her his arm. “Yes. I would be happy to do that.”