Page 6 of A Summer Romance (The Starlings of Starling Hall #2)
Breana arrived home in a bad mood. What she had hoped would be a pleasant summer afternoon in the orchard, with some flirtation and perhaps another kiss, had turned into a betrayal. Francis had shaken up her pretty daydreams with a cold, hard dose of reality.
There could be only one reason why he had not mentioned his engagement to Miss Ingram. He was a liar, and probably a cheat.
Was Breana’s heart broken? She had seen friends in the throes of a broken heart, and they had stayed in their bedrooms and sobbed for days, refusing to eat, refusing to be comforted.
But Breana wasn’t about to do that—she enjoyed eating and was already experiencing hunger pangs. So no, her heart was far from broken.
In fact, she felt remarkably pragmatic about the whole thing, now that the first shock had passed and simmered into resentment. Indeed, to her surprise, she discovered she was thinking far more about her encounter with Theo than Francis’s lies.
For your own sake, Miss Starling, I suggest you think before you act.
Was he calling her a feather brain, who didn’t give due consideration to her actions or the trouble they might cause her and others?
Breana was starting to realise that was the impression she gave people.
She was capable of that sort of behaviour, yes, but beneath her vibrant imagination was a solid foundation of common sense.
She moaned about the less pleasant aspects of her life, and the notion that she might spend years doing the things she did not want to do…
but who could blame her for wishing to escape that reality?
Marrying Francis had seemed like the perfect way to avoid that drudgery, but not at the cost of her reputation and her family’s disappointment.
When Francis suggested that they run off together…
What did he think would happen? That she would live in a cottage somewhere eagerly awaiting his visits, while he enjoyed his life with the wealthy Miss Ingram? Ridiculous!
No, Francis was a terrible disappointment to her.
She was almost grateful Theo had shown her that her daydreams were nothing more substantial than dandelion fluff on the wind.
It was time she set aside any thoughts she might have had about a future with Francis, though she would hold onto that one kiss they’d shared in the library.
Once the horse was stabled, Breana returned to the house, and Lady Meg Starling met her at the door.
“Will and Molly are sitting together in the parlour, so don’t disturb them,” she warned. “I have already told the other children to leave them be! They should have some privacy now the wedding is barely two months away. I’m sure they have a great deal to discuss.”
Breana doubted there was much discussion going on behind the parlour door, but said nothing.
“Are you looking forward to your stay with Chloe Bennett? I remember how close you used to be when you were at school together. Before her family removed to London.”
Chloe’s father had been the school headmaster in Barton Lacey but had been offered a job at a more prestigious school.
Chloe was forever boasting about the friends she had made and the social events she had been invited to, making Breana feel as though she were missing out.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons she had been so silly when it came to Francis.
“I am looking forward to it,” Breana said with a smile. “I miss her dearly. Life has been very dull without her.”
Lady Meg gave her a sceptical look. “One cannot be giddy with excitement all the time, my dear. Imagine how exhausting that would be.”
Breana supposed she was right. All the same, she doubted she would be bored in London.
“The coach leaves at six from the crossing, and Will shall make sure you are there on time. He will wait with you.”
Breana did not want to admit how comforting the thought of Will’s presence was after Francis had talked about running off with her. Though surely by now he must have thought better of such a ridiculous suggestion? She really didn’t want to think about it, so she pushed it aside.
Her mother was watching her. “Breana, my dear, I have felt that of late you have been a little out of sorts. You seem distracted, throwing yourself into anything that might take your mind off whatever it is that is worrying you. You are such a lovely girl, but you are young. Chloe was always sensible, so perhaps you can talk to her. Reflect on what it is you truly want for your future.”
Breana wondered if her mother knew of her silly daydreams about Francis and the sort of behaviour that had led him to think she would even consider running away with him.
She squirmed at the thought, knowing how disappointed her mother would be with her if she had seen what had happened in the orchard.
“Thank you, Mama,” she said, and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Chloe will not let me get into any mischief, if that is what is worrying you. You are right, she has such a level head on her shoulders—like Abby.”
Her mother sighed. “Abby,” she said. “There is another daughter who needs to think hard about her future.”
Breana did not know what she meant by that, but she was eager to escape in case her mother somehow discovered what she had been up to. She turned to go.
“You will need to sponge the hem of your new dress,” Lady Meg called after her. “I won’t ask how it happened because I am sure you will spin me some tale.”
Breana thought it best not to answer that, and hurried upstairs to her bedchamber.
There were too many children in Starling Hall for her to have a room to herself, and she shared hers with Christine. Her trunk was only half packed and she still needed to finish it. She had hoped to do so in peace and quiet.
Unfortunately, Christine was there, and Breana wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been going through her things. The other day she had been wearing one of Breana’s bonnets as if it were her own.
Breana glared at her as she closed the door, while Christine hummed to herself innocently. This was never a good sign.
“Where were you?” Christine asked once it was obvious Breana was not going to speak. With a sly smile, she added, “I’ll wager you were at Barton Manor. Mama would not like that. Should I tell her?”
“If you do,” Breana snapped, “I will tell her who pulled up her favourite marigold and thought it was a weed, then fed the evidence to the goat.”
Christine’s eyes widened, and then she laughed. “All right,” she said, “keep your secrets. Make a fool of yourself over Francis Norris if you want to. I couldn’t care less.”
Breana opened her mouth to tell her sister she wouldn’t want Francis if he was covered in custard and put in an apple pie—her favourite pudding—then thought better of it.
“If you want to set your cap at one of that family,” Christine went on, sounding much older than her sixteen years, “then it should be Theodore.”
Breana scoffed, startled, and a little guilty. “ Theodore ! Why on earth would I want to marry him?”
“Because he is kind and looks after his parents and his brothers, and sometimes has a lovely smile, though I admit not often. I think he doesn’t smile often because he worries so much about keeping everyone happy.”
Breana wanted to tell Christine she was talking nonsense, but it was possible that it might not be.
Her heart sank a little, remembering her behaviour in the orchard today, going to meet Francis and lying about it.
If Theodore was working so hard to look after his family, then what must he think of Breana’s selfish actions?
Christine watched her with interest. “Ah, you think I’m right, don’t you? Well, if you want to marry Theodore, you’d better hurry up. Otherwise, when I grow up I intend to marry him.” With that, she flounced off, leaving Breana to her thoughts.
When Theo’s eyes had looked into hers, they had been very intent.
He had warned her about his brother, and he had been right.
Then, when she had almost fallen and he had caught her, it had felt very nice to be held in his arms. Why had she never noticed these things before?
Why had she shown him only the careless side of her nature?
She wasn’t going to marry Theo. Of course not.
She would probably never marry at all and die a spinster, just as she imagined was Abby’s fate.
But she told herself she should be kinder to him next time they met.
Perhaps she could make him smile? Christine was right, he had a nice smile, though he frowned far more often.
She put her hands to her cheeks, feeling them heat in embarrassment.
It was never too late to change his opinion of her. The next time she saw him, she resolved to make him like her better. There was no harm in that, surely? But it would have to wait until she returned from London.