Page 21

‘I am sorry I am late, lovely Lotte, I…’ She came to a stop a few steps from the doorway.

She hadn’t expected anyone other than her maid to come with Lotte today, so it was a surprise to see Freddie crouched down with her, both of them sorting through some blocks on the carpet.

She told herself that the surprise explained her thundering heart.

His dark hair was falling over his eyes as he leaned forward to examine what Lotte was doing, and there was a faint smile hovering around his lips.

Then he was lifting his head, his mouth opening as if to return her greeting, but something in his gaze faltered and he just stared at her.

All around her, the air seemed to stretch and tighten, a faint tremor running through her veins causing her fingers to shake.

Lotte leapt up, a block clutched in her hand as she ran to Emily’s side, flinging her arms around Emily’s legs in the type of miniature hug Emily had come to love so much.

‘Emmeme, ook.’ Lotte held up the block for inspection.

‘Gosh,’ she said, not really looking because, for some reason, her eyes were still on Freddie. ‘It is lovely, sweetheart.’

Freddie’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. She couldn’t blame him for being amused. How could a block be lovely? But Lotte seemed satisfied with the response; she slipped a hand into Emily’s and dragged her over towards Freddie.

‘We are making a castle,’ said Freddie, gesturing to the blocks that lay in a haphazard pile on one of her mother’s favourite rugs.

‘Has it been laid to waste by an invading army? ’

‘Ah, Miss Hawkins, you are a harsh critic.’ Freddie was teasing her, but for the first time, she found that she didn’t mind. The amused twinkle in his eyes lit a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the sunny spring day.

She swallowed. She wasn’t supposed to like Freddie or to experience anything in the region of her heart.

They were enemies, destined to antagonise each other until the end of time.

Although perhaps that didn’t describe their relationship any more.

They had complimented each other, spent time together that hadn’t ended badly, and both adored the girl in the room with them today.

When she didn’t respond, the light dimmed from his expression and her heart twisted.

It would be lovely to be one of the women who laughed and joked with Freddie, who didn’t take his roguishness seriously, someone he was willing to use his charm on.

Perhaps if their friendship developed that would come and she would no longer disappoint him.

Emily placed one block on top of another as directed by Lotte. Next to her, Freddie worked silently on his task, which appeared to be placing blocks in random positions according to the whimsy of his niece. Lotte chattered on, making enough conversation for the three of them.

The bright spring sun poured light into the room, heating it to a perfect temperature.

The whole scene should have been restful but there was a strange charge to the air, as if there were something tangible flitting between her and Freddie.

Emily was acutely aware of his arm as he moved and the way his long fingers curled and straightened as he set about his task.

After a while, Lotte took herself and her doll to the other end of the room.

Neither Freddie nor Emily moved to sit on the cushioned settee.

If her mother walked in right now, Emily would get a scolding that would likely never end, but that still didn’t force her from the floor.

Maybe it was the realisation that her mother was even more controlling than Emily had realised, but she had a horrible feeling that her inaction was nothing to do with that at all.

Freddie seemed to be exerting some sort of pull over her, keeping her in position.

She wasn’t looking at him but at the little girl who was lost in play, yet she was still aware of every breath he took.

The silence settled between them, not uncomfortable exactly, but not easy either.

Lotte jumped and twirled in the air, making herself laugh, and Emily’s heart expanded.

‘You look very different from normal.’

Emily laughed. The other evening he had called her beautiful and left her speechless; this comment was far more like his usual self.

To her surprise, red crept up the skin of his neck.

‘I am sorry, I seem to have the knack of saying the wrong thing when I am with you. It was not meant as an insult. You do look different, but it is a good different.’ He groaned, his head flopping back onto the settee behind him.

‘I wish I could say something other than different.’

She took mercy on him because he may be talking idiotically, but she could sense that he was trying to say something good and kind. ‘I styled my hair in a less painful way. I did it myself so it’s not quite how I should like, but I think I will get there with practice.’

His gaze followed the loops she had made; he swallowed as if about to say something, before releasing a slight breath. He turned his attention back to his niece. ‘It looks well enough.’

Her heart ached a little. She knew he meant his comment kindly and that this was not part of his normal teasing, but she wished she inspired more delicate forms of compliments.

She would like to see him struck dumb by her beauty, or at least pretend to be, which, now that she thought about it, was strange.

She shouldn’t care. She never had before.

Things were changing between her and Freddie and she wasn’t sure what into.

She had lived a sheltered upbringing, not spending much time around men; even her brothers-in-law were distant figures.

She had no real idea what to expect when it came to men, no idea if she and Freddie could be friends or allies, or if this morning was one of the only times they would ever get to talk privately together.

If this was the last time they would be together like this, then perhaps it would not matter if she spoke frankly with him. ‘May I ask you about your drawing?’

There was a distinct pause, and she held her breath, waiting.

She wouldn’t pry if he said no. It was obvious that this was a side to himself that he wanted to keep private.

If anyone else knew of his extraordinary talent, it would be talked about far and wide.

Yet, the only things she ever heard discussed about Freddie was how cavalier he was with his charm; how he could get away with murder if he so wished; how he had never worked a day in his life.

It was all of these points that had irked her in the past and yet she now saw that these were not the whole picture of Freddie.

There was so much more to him than other people knew and she wanted to be the one to discover it.

‘You may,’ he said eventually.

He didn’t sound overly thrilled, but that wasn’t going to stop her. If she was right and this was one of the only times she would ever get him alone, she wanted to know everything. ‘When you said the glasshouses do not exist yet, do you have somewhere in mind for that garden to exist?’

He huffed out a laugh. ‘You do not start with the easy questions, do you?’

‘If it exists, I would like to go there.’

He scratched his chin, his gaze still fixed on his niece. ‘That is a fine compliment indeed, Miss Hawkins. ’

She recognised this tone of voice; he was about to launch into the happy-go-lucky persona he normally showed her and everyone else. She wasn’t going to let him, or at least she was going to try to stay away from his flippancy.

‘Do you own such a place?’ she asked before he could go any further.

‘I…’ His shoulders sagged slightly. ‘No.’

‘But you want to.’ She didn’t phrase it as a question.

Only days ago she would not have believed Freddie had any plan further than the next hour, but now she was convinced otherwise.

It was the depth of the drawing; it was not done on a whim.

It had been thought out and planned with detail. ‘Do you have a site in mind?’

He nodded.

‘Tell me about it.’

He let out a long sigh. ‘No one else knows about this, Miss Hawkins. I am not sure…’

‘You have my word that I will never tell a soul.’

He turned to face her, his dark eyes full of a vulnerability she’d never seen from him.

Before today, she would have said that he didn’t have it in him to look so earnest and sincere.

He turned and focused his attention on his hands, flexing his fingers, drawing her attention to the length of them.

They were not the expected hands of a dandy.

They were not soft and pale. They had hard calluses, looking as if they had been used in manual labour.

She had never noticed before but now she was always going to see it.

‘There is an estate that borders Berferd, on the outskirts of the city.’ He cleared his throat.

‘The owner is running it into the ground, but he is refusing to sell it to me for the amount I have. He has made me a counteroffer; I am close and now that I am living back at Glanmore House, I will probably reach it quicker, and when I do… There will be more work, more expense. I think, I hope, it will be worth the effort.’

‘Could you ask…?’

‘No.’ He was shaking his head before she could get to the end of her sentence.

‘This is my dream. I want to do it on my own terms with money I have earned from my investments and from saving. I am not asking Tobias for the blunt. When I get this place, it will be because of something I have achieved.’

She nodded slowly; she could understand that, especially after her revelations this morning. It was a simple thing, being in control of your own destiny, but it was an important, fundamental desire.

‘Why this place in particular? Why not somewhere you can afford right now?’