Chapter 9

As the morning light streamed through the gauzy curtains of the breakfast room at Hills estate, the Carter family gathered for what promised to be a leisurely start to the day. With a flourish characteristic of the home, the table was laid with exquisite china, crystal glasses, and a spread of breakfast fare that included hot tea and coffee pots, freshly baked pastries, fruits, and cold meats.

When Marianne walked into the breakfast area and sat beside Andrew, her light blue morning gown accentuated her eyes. She had to admit that his presence was starting to grow on her. To feel natural. She lightly shook her head. This was not a thought for now.

Beside Andrew, Benedict and Peggy were having a lighthearted argument over the plans they had for that day.

"Father, are you certain you don't need company today?" with a young and soft glow from the thought of her getting the opportunity to spend the day out, Peggy inquired. "I might accompany you to the city with Marianne. It may be helpful."

Benedict glanced at Penny, grinned, and said, "No my dear, it's better if you stay at home. Your mother might need your help. Besides, I wouldn't want to wear you out. Your sister and Andrew could have plans."

"Father, please? Let me help you!" Peggy pleaded.

"Fine, Peggy," Benedict agreed.

Marianne was curious and amused as she listened to the discussion. Since Andrew's arrival, her father had taken a step back, allowing her greater space to interact with him—possibly to strengthen their bond.

Andrew, sensing an opportunity to be of service, chimed in, "If you need assistance, I'd be more than happy to accompany you and Peggy. It could be useful to have an extra pair of hands."

Benedict paused, considering Andrew's offer. He set down his cup with a gentle clink against the saucer and regarded him with a thoughtful expression. "Andrew, that's very kind of you, but I insist Peggy and I will manage just fine. It's just a few errands, nothing that requires too much heavy lifting."

Peggy pouted slightly, always eager for more company, but nodded understandingly. "We're just picking up some supplies and visiting the milliner. I've outgrown my last set of hats," she added, her tone playful as she tapped the brim of her current, rather fashionable hat.

Andrew nodded, a touch of disappointment in his eyes. "Of course, My Lord," he replied respectfully. "If you're certain."

"I am," Benedict affirmed with a warm smile. "But thank you, Andrew. It's good to know you're here to lend a hand."

Andrew, sipping his coffee, turned to Marianne with a playful smile, breaking away from the talk of errands and engagements. "Speaking of adventures, Marianne, have you decided which part of the garden deserves your special attention this week? I hear the rose arbor is beginning to look particularly splendid."

Marianne, refreshed by the gentle ribbing, returned his smile with a light laugh. "Oh, the rose arbor always needs more attention than I can give," she confessed. "But, yes, it's on my list."

Peggy chimed in, her voice bright with enthusiasm, "Oh, the roses are indeed lovely! Maybe we could all spend some time there later? I could use your expert guidance, Marianne, to learn a few tricks for my little flower bed."

The suggestion sparked a lightness in the room with Benedict adding, "I think that's a splendid idea. It's been ages since we've all mucked in together in the gardens. What do you say, Andrew? Ready to trade your fine gentleman's gloves for gardening ones?"

Andrew's response was quick and accompanied by a hearty laugh. "Absolutely, I believe a bit of dirt under the fingernails is considered quite good for character building. Count me in."

The conversation naturally shifted towards the health of the estate's gardens, with Marianne taking the lead. "You know, the west side, where the old apple orchard stands, could use some rejuvenation. The trees are blossoming well enough, but the undergrowth has gotten a bit wild. It might be a good project for us later this spring."

Her words drew nods of agreement from around the table.

Lady Hillsfolk, who had been quietly enjoying her breakfast, looked up with interest. "Perhaps that could be another family project. The orchard has always been one of my favorite spots. It's where your father proposed to me, after all."

This revelation brought a round of "awws" from Peggy and a soft smile from Benedict, who reached out to squeeze Lady Hillsfolk's hand affectionately. "Yes, and you said yes, despite my having chosen the muddiest day to kneel."

Everyone laughed, and Andrew took the moment to lean closer to Marianne, lowering his voice just for her ears. "I hope you'll show me that very spot. It sounds like it has quite the history."

Marianne nodded, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I will. It's beautiful, especially in the late afternoon light."

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, with Andrew inquiring, "What's on the horizon for Hills estate? Any grand events I should prepare for?"

Lady Hillsfolk, ever the planner, was quick to answer. "Well, we are thinking about hosting a midsummer ball. It's been a tradition here, and I daresay it's time we brought it back. What do you think, Marianne? Could we convince you to help with the preparations?"

Marianne's eyes sparkled at the challenge. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. It would certainly give us all something to look forward to. And, Andrew, you'll have to help choose the music. We'll need to ensure the dance floor is never empty."

Andrew raised his cup in a mock salute. "Consider it done. I may even brush up on my dancing skills in the meantime."

As laughter and banter continued, Peggy leaned towards Andrew, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Marianne hasn't stopped talking about how well you managed your horse during our ride last week. I think she was quite impressed."

Marianne, overhearing this, rolled her eyes playfully at Peggy, but her gentle smile at Andrew was tinged with affection.

Andrew, picking up on the teasing tone, played along. "Is that so? Well, I must admit, it was quite a day."

Marianne noticed her father's watchful eyes on them, a silent, protective, and hopeful assessment.

Eventually, the meal ended, and it was time for Benedict and Peggy to depart. Marianne also stood up, smoothing the front of her dress as she approached her father.

"Father, are you sure you don't want Andrew to go with you?" she asked quietly, her tone laced with concern. "He's quite adept at managing?—"

Benedict touched her shoulder gently, cutting her off with a soft, reassuring smile. "Marianne, my dear, I am quite certain. Peggy and I need to spend time together, just the two of us. And besides, Andrew might appreciate some time to explore the estate, wouldn't you say?"

Marianne nodded, understanding her father's unspoken words. This was his way of giving her and Andrew space, an acknowledgment of their future together and the independence they would need.

Peggy, ever the bundle of energy, grabbed her father's hand. "Come on, Father, we'll be late if we don't hurry!" she exclaimed, pulling him towards the foyer.

Benedict laughed, allowing himself to be led away, but not before giving Marianne a meaningful look. "Take care of each other," he called back as he and Peggy stepped through the door.

Marianne turned to face Andrew, mixed emotions reflected in her eyes. "Seems like we have the day to ourselves," she said, a cautious smile pulling at her lips.

Observing the discussions silently throughout the morning, Andrew took a closer look. "It appears to be so," he said. "Maybe we should take a walk in the gardens? The roses are said to be quite magnificent, and they are just beginning to bloom."

Marianne nodded, past doubts disappearing at the thought of the new day ahead. She responded in a faint but clear voice, "Yes, please."

As they made for the grounds, Marianne felt a calmness wash over her. With many paths and hidden spots in the garden, it offered the perfect refuge from the hardships of their situation. Today allowed them to be Marianne and Andrew, far from other people's opinions and their families' expectations.

Their conversation flowed as naturally as their stroll through the blooming plants.

"You know, Harriet and I practically grew up in the wilds of our estate," Andrew started, his eyes distant yet bright with the flicker of cherished memories. "After our parents passed, the estate felt like a kingdom in need of ruling, and there I was, barely more than a boy, trying to play the king for my little queen."

Marianne smiled softly, encouraging him with a gentle nod.

They paused beside a stone bench, overgrown with climbing ivy, and as they sat, the garden around them seemed to listen.

"Harriet was adventurous, always concocting some grand plan which, inevitably, led us into all sorts of trouble. Once, she decided we should learn to sail on the lake using nothing but old bed sheets and our two rather unwilling farm horses as counterweights."

Laughing at the image, Marianne asked, "How did that venture end?"

"As you might expect, thoroughly soaked and muddier than the lake bottom." Andrew chuckled. "But those days were more than just childhood mischief. They were a quick study in taking care of others, of making decisions that were about more than just what game we would play next."

The conversation deepened, with Andrew's tone tinged with a mix of fondness and somberness as he spoke of the responsibilities that had fallen on his young shoulders.

"Being thrust into the role of a guardian for Harriet taught me about the sacrifices one must sometimes make for family. It wasn't just about overseeing our daily misadventures but also about making sure we had a future to look forward to."

Marianne reached out, her hand lightly touching his arm. "It sounds like you were very brave."

He shrugged, his smile wistful. "I did what I had to do. But it wasn't all burdens and responsibilities. There were moments, much like today, where it was just us, free from everything else."

As they resumed walking, the garden's wild beauty enveloped them, a canopy of green above and a carpet of blooms below. Andrew's stories continued to weave through their conversation, each tale a thread pulling tightly at Marianne's heart, drawing her closer into his world.

"Then there's my uncle." Andrew's voice hardened slightly, a shadow crossing his face. "When I turned eighteen, he handed over the ducal responsibilities, but he never really let go. These days, he's been quite persistent about me marrying one of my cousins."

Marianne frowned, sensing his discomfort. "That must be difficult, given how you all grew up together."

"It is. To me, they are more sisters than anything else. The thought of marrying either of them feels… unnatural. I've been dodging the topic, but he is insistent. It's not just about keeping the title within the family, it's about his vision for the future of the dukedom, which he still tries to control."

The path led them to a small clearing where the sunlight pierced through the leaves in golden shafts. Here, they paused, the world around them momentarily forgotten.

"Marianne," Andrew said, his voice earnest and intense, "today, being here with you, it's a breath of fresh air. It's moments like these that remind me that there's more to life than duties and expectations."

Moved by his confession, Marianne stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Andrew, whatever decisions you face, remember that you're not alone. We all have our roles and responsibilities, but it's who we are when we step out of those roles that truly defines us."

Andrew looked at her, gratitude and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "Thank you, Marianne. I needed to hear that, especially now."

As Marianne listened, her heart became warmer with every reminiscence and giggle she shared.

"This place reminds me of home," Andrew said, waving widely at the natural beauty. "Not the composition but the substance. There's a genuine sense of warmth and welcome here."

Marianne looked at him intently for a minute, seeing who he was inside. She finally said, "I'm glad. I hope you always feel that way."

They strolled to a remote spot where a big blossoming tree shaded a little seat. The scent of blooms filling the air, they made themselves at home in this natural hideaway that felt miles away from everything else.

A little wind rustled the leaves above them as they sat peacefully in the seat, creating a pattern in the shadows cast by the leaves.

Marianne stirred slightly, disrupting the cozy quiet. "Should we walk a little longer?" she asked, her lips curling into a slight smile.

Happy to be free to move about and carry on their chat, Andrew nodded. They wandered along the main route, past tall trees whose leaves appeared to be whispering secrets to the breeze, and patches of brightly colored flowers.

They started out chatting cautiously, discussing unimportant topics like the design of the garden and the estate's impending festivities. But as they strolled along, a tame recollection of their game with Peggy from the previous evening surfaced, one that quickly developed into a minor argument.

Andrew teasedly said, "You were quite the strategist last night," thinking back to how Marianne had deftly outwitted him during a game of charades. "I have to admit, your competitive nature surprised me."

Marianne laughed with a chuckle as lighthearted and pleasing as the bird melodies all around them. "Andrew, please, come on now. It was all enjoyable. However, you weren't exactly holding back. I observed your attempt to get Peggy to agree with you by making such wild predictions."

Andrew laughed, realizing that what she had said was true. "Accused and found guilty. However, you must concede that such guile concealed under such a refined exterior is uncommon."

With a playful glint in her eyes, Marianne nudged him lightly. "Andrew, just so we're clear, I may be refined, but I'm certainly not fragile. Sometimes, I think you forget just how tough I can be."

Andrew paused, a slight frown creasing his brow, then broke into a sheepish grin. "Honestly, I never mean to underestimate you. I'm actually quite in awe of your many talents—it's all in jest, really."

Marianne stopped to admire a distant flowerbed, her smile returning. "I know, and I do appreciate your sense of humor. Just making sure we're on the same page, that's all."

Seeing the moment as an opportunity to switch gears, Andrew pointed excitedly towards a small hill leading down to a hidden part of the garden. "Look over there, there's a pond I hadn't noticed before. Shall we check it out?"

Glad for the change of topic, Marianne nodded, and they started down the slope towards the secluded pond. The scene that greeted them was serene; the pond, nestled beneath a weeping willow, mirrored the clear sky and surrounding greenery.

Reaching the water's edge, Marianne leaned down to trail her fingers across the cool water, sending ripples across the surface. "It's really beautiful here," she murmured, the calm of the place echoing in her voice.

"It truly is," Andrew agreed, standing beside her and watching the gentle disturbances in the water. "I love these hidden spots in the countryside—there's a simplicity and beauty here that's hard to find anywhere else."

Marianne's smile widened, her earlier frustration forgotten. "These quiet moments are what I cherish the most. It's a chance to step away from everything else and just enjoy the simplicity."

Andrew nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I'm glad we can share this. And, Marianne, just so you know, I really do respect you—a lot. If my jokes ever miss the mark, just tell me. I'm still figuring out the best way to behave around you."

Marianne's expression softened, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Andrew. I appreciate that. And I'm learning, too—how to share my thoughts more openly."

As they sat together on the bench beneath the willow tree, feeling a surge of spontaneity, Andrew glanced towards the pond and noticed a small boat tethered to a wooden dock just a few steps away.

Excited by the prospect of another shared adventure, he jumped to his feet, his energy palpable. "Marianne, look!" he exclaimed, pointing towards the boat. "Let's take the boat out on the pond. It looks like the perfect day for it!"

Marianne followed his gaze, her initial smile faltering slightly as she saw the boat rocking gently against the dock. She hesitated, her eyes tracing the calm water that suddenly seemed less inviting.

"I…" she stammered, her words scarcely above a whisper. "I'm not sure."

Seeing her uncertainty but not understanding why, Andrew laughed and held his hand. "Come on, have fun with it. Rest assured that I will guide us securely. Put some trust in your captain," he jokingly said, attempting to ease her anxiety.

Marianne reluctantly gave in to pressure to come closer to the water's edge. Her pulse was racing with an increasing dread that she was trying not to show, and every step seemed heavier than the last. With childlike excitement, Andrew sprang into the boat first and extended his hand to assist her when they arrived at the pier.

As Marianne got into the boat, her movements were rigid, and her hand shook in his. After sitting down, she tightly gripped the boat's edges, her knuckles turning white. She avoided gazing at the water, keeping her eyes focused on the hardwood floor.

Initially caught up in the beauty of the pond and serene environment, Andrew didn't immediately notice her discomfort. He began to row them gently away from the shore, enthralled by the reflections in the water and the way the light danced around them.

"Isn't this beautiful?" he remarked, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Marianne managed a tight smile but remained silent, her body rigid. Every small ripple they created seemed to amplify her anxiety. The boat rocked slightly more than usual when Andrew suddenly moved to point to a water lily.

Marianne yelped, her hands clutching the edges of the boat even tighter, her breath catching in her throat. "Andrew, please… be careful," she gasped, her voice strained.

Andrew paused, his oar suspended in mid-air as he turned to look at her properly for the first time since they'd embarked. The playfulness in his expression faded into concern as he took in her pale face and wide, fearful eyes.

"Marianne, what's wrong? You're trembling. Are you… are you afraid of the water?"

Now visibly shaking, Marianne nodded mutely, her eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. "I… I can't swim," she whispered, her admission laced with shame. "I've always been terrified of water."

Andrew's heart sank as he began to row them back to the dock, his actions gentle and measured to avoid causing more distress. "I'm so sorry, Marianne. I didn't know," he said softly, his voice soothing. "We'll get back to shore right away."

Marianne barely heard his words, her focus entirely on the looming safety of the land. Her breathing was shallow as she fought the panic rising within her.

Seeing her distress, Andrew continued to speak in calm, reassuring tones. "You're safe, Marianne. I've got you. We're almost back," he assured her, his eyes never leaving her face, trying to provide a pillar of strength she could lean on.

Andrew hauled in the oars and made haste to get out as the boat's bow slapped the gravelly shore. The boat tilted suddenly from his rapid movement, and Marianne felt her heart spring into her throat.

With a hint of fear in her voice, she said, "Be careful!"

With one foot already on the dock, Andrew steadied himself and reached back towards her. "It's all right, I've got it," he said, attempting to stabilize the boat with one hand while anchoring it against the dock with the other.

But as he pulled the boat closer to shore, his movements, though calculated, caused the boat to rock more violently. Marianne, already on edge and fearing that Andrew might slip or the boat might drift away, made a sudden, impulsive decision to stand up. She intended to reach out and grab his hand, but as she shifted her weight, the boat lurched beneath her.

With a sharp gasp, Marianne lost her balance. Her arms flailed, and seeking something solid to hold onto but finding nothing, she tumbled over the side of the boat. A splash shattered the pond's quiet as she hit the shallow water.