Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Edwina sat across from Miles in the open-air carriage, her eyes fixated on the countryside passing by. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as they traveled towards the village. Would they discover anything else about her uncle? She hoped not. But it was rather obvious that he was not the man she had believed him to be.

For the past four months, Edwina had been plagued by questions and doubts surrounding her relationship with her uncle. What had she done to earn his ire? But she had been doing nothing wrong. It was him. All him. She wondered if he even felt a shred of guilt for lying to her.

Miles' voice broke through her musings. "It will be all right."

Edwina met his gaze, searching for reassurance. "Will it?" she asked. "My uncle has been lying to me. Once the truth is revealed, will he hate me even more than he already does?"

"He doesn't hate you."

Edwina lifted her brow. "He hardly can be in the same room as me."

"It might just be guilt," Miles proposed .

"Or perhaps he believes I don't deserve my inheritance," Edwina said.

Miles shook his head. "It doesn't matter what he thinks, you are legally entitled to that money."

"But I am his ward," Edwina pointed out. "He has complete control over my finances until I reach my majority, including how that money is spent."

"Regardless, he should have told you about the inheritance."

"Even so, I am at my uncle's mercy until I am twenty-one," Edwina sighed.

Miles leaned forward and held her gaze. "Bennett will ensure that nothing bad will happen to you. I can promise you that."

She had to acknowledge that Miles did make a good argument. Bennett had been fiercely protective of her since she was little. "You are right," she said.

Settling back into his seat, Miles smiled. "I like the sound of that."

A laugh escaped from Edwina's lips. "You must not hear that very often."

"Oh, I do indeed," Miles joked. "It is almost a curse, really."

"What a burden you must bear, my lord," Edwina teased, feeling herself relaxing against the bench. "We should be reaching the village soon."

Miles adjusted the top hat on his head. "But I must say, I am rather enjoying myself. The sun is shining down upon us, the birds are singing their songs, and the company is quite pleasant."

"Are you truly resorting to flattery?" she asked.

"I am, but only if it is working," Miles replied with a wink.

Edwina grinned. "I do not know whether to be flattered or insulted," she said .

With a dramatic flourish, Miles placed his hand over his heart. "Flattered, I assure you."

"All right, if you say so," Edwina responded. She had to admit that she rather enjoyed this playful side of Miles.

As they continued down the road towards the village, Edwina's eyes widened in surprise as she saw their crested coach parked outside a modest cottage, just set off the path.

She pointed towards the coach. "That is my uncle's coach," she revealed. "But what is he doing here?"

"Are you certain this is not the home of his solicitor or man of business?" Miles asked.

Edwina fixed him with a pointed look, challenging his thoughts. "Why would he visit one of their homes when they have offices set up in the village?" she asked. "Besides, this cottage is where Mrs. Wallington raised her children. She recently passed away, leaving it vacant. I hadn't realized anyone else moved in."

"Clearly someone has." Turning towards the driver, he ordered, "Stop here. We shall continue on foot to the village."

The driver reined in the team before asking, "Are you sure, my lord?"

"I am, but I will expect you to wait for us in the village," Miles replied firmly.

A footman stepped off his perch and came around to open the door. He offered his hand in assisting Edwina down the step.

Once she was standing on solid ground, she released the footman's hand and clasped her own in front of her. "What do we do now?" she asked as Miles came to stand next to her.

Miles gestured towards the woodlands, thick with towering trees that seemed to stretch on for miles. "We can position ourselves in the cover of those trees and wait for your uncle's appearance. With any luck, we may discover why he has come here."

"I think that is a fine plan," Edwina agreed .

As they made their way towards the edge of the woodlands, Miles said, "I do hope we do not soil your gown."

"The gown is the least of my concerns," she admitted. "My uncle is a liar, a cheat, and who knows what else."

Miles offered her a sympathetic smile. "I am sorry for what you are going through. I can't imagine how hard this is for you."

"Nothing is as difficult as losing my father," Edwina shared, her voice filled with emotion. "Everything else seems to pale in comparison."

With a nod of understanding, Miles said, "Yes, death has a way of putting things in perspective."

They stepped into the woodlands and the rustling leaves and melodic birdsong surrounded them. The canopy of trees covered their heads, creating a sense of sanctuary from the outside world. A nearby stream added to the calming ambiance.

"It is peaceful here," Edwina acknowledged.

Miles turned his attention towards the birds that flitted around them. "Perhaps I should learn how to mimic a bird call."

"It truly is not hard."

"It is for someone who can't whistle."

Edwina's mouth dropped. "You can't whistle?"

Miles simply shrugged. "It is not uncommon for someone to not know how to whistle," he defended.

"But it is so simple," Edwina insisted, demonstrating with a low whistle from her lips.

Miles' expression was a mixture of wry amusement and resignation. "Do you think I haven't tried doing just that at least a hundred times?"

"I have never met someone who couldn't whistle," Edwina remarked.

"It is not exactly a topic that comes up in conversation," Miles said dryly .

"Maybe it should be," she joked. "After one is introduced, they should follow up with whether or not they can whistle."

Miles let out a slight huff. "For what purpose?"

"Merely conversational," she responded. "It is fascinating."

"It is hardly fascinating. I am sure I can do things that you can't."

Edwina tilted her chin. "Name one."

"Well, to begin, I have attended university and participated in fisticuffs on occasion," Miles said.

"I could engage in fisticuffs if I wanted to," Edwina countered. "But I prefer to solve my problems without using my fists."

Miles chuckled. "You could never hit someone, even if you wanted to."

"I could, given the right reasons," she asserted.

"No, you couldn't," he insisted. "Your kind heart would never allow you to intentionally inflict pain on another person."

Edwina had to admit that Miles had a point, albeit reluctantly. She had never seen a reason to hit someone before.

As she opened her mouth to respond, Miles placed his finger against his lips and tilted his head towards the cottage. Her uncle emerged from the door, his top hat perched perfectly on his head, while a tall, slender woman appeared behind him, dressed in a simple gown. A young boy clung to her side.

With an affectionate smile, her uncle crouched down and opened his arms to the child who eagerly leapt into them. He released the child and embraced the woman.

Edwina felt a pang of anger as she watched from afar. It was evident what her uncle was doing at the cottage.

Miles placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"My uncle has a whole other family, hidden away right under our noses," Edwina said through clenched teeth, her hands balling into tight fists. "I can't believe this. My poor aunt. My poor cousins. What this will do to them."

"We don't know for certain that was his mistress," Miles admitted.

Edwina's lips pursed in disbelief. "Surely you cannot be serious?" she asked. "Who else could that woman possibly be?"

Miles remained calm, his eyes warm and understanding as he spoke. "I understand your frustration but let's not make assumptions until we have all the facts. Perhaps I could go speak to this woman and gather more information."

"And say what?" Edwina asked. "Besides, if you do such a thing, then my uncle would surely find out."

"You are right," Miles conceded.

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her anger. "I think I could punch my uncle," she declared.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Miles said. "But let's not resort to violence just yet."

Edwina unclenched her fists and took a step back, trying to calm herself. "Should we tell Bennett?"

"Hold on," Miles replied. "If we are wrong about this, we could cause unnecessary pain to your family."

"But if we are right?" Edwina pressed.

Miles sighed deeply. "I don't know, but I think we should keep this between us for now. Just until we can gather more proof."

"If you think that is best."

"I do," Miles affirmed. "But it won't be easy for you. You will have to pretend that all is well, despite knowing what you know."

Edwina nodded resolutely. "I can do that."

Miles dropped his arm to his side but remained close. "We can do this… together," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "But you will need to trust me."

"I thought we already established that I did," Edwina replied lightly.

"Yes, we did, but now you really need to trust me," Miles said, his lips curling into a tight smile.

Despite her anger towards her uncle, Edwina couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement at Miles' persistence.

Miles turned his head towards the direction of the village, his gaze searching the horizon. "How far off is the village?"

"Not too far," she replied, following his gaze. "We should be able to walk there in under twenty minutes or so."

"Are you up for a walk?"

Edwina felt her lips twitch. "Do we have a choice, considering you sent the carriage up ahead?"

"It was so Lord Dallington wouldn't see us," Miles explained, his tone slightly defensive.

"I never said it was wrong," Edwina said. "It is a good thing that I wore my boots today."

Miles held out his hand towards the road, gesturing that she should go first. "After you, my lady," he encouraged.

"Thank you," Edwina said as she brushed past him.

Once they started walking down the road, Miles asked, "Shall we play a game to pass the time?"

"We could, or you could practice your whistling skills," she teased.

Miles let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced heavenward. "Not this again," he muttered.

The sound of a carriage approaching from behind caught their attention and they quickly moved to the side of the road to let it pass. It came to an abrupt stop a short distance ahead and the door swung open, revealing Miss Bawden.

With a smile on her face, Miss Bawden asked, "Would you care for a ride into the village?"

"We would greatly appreciate one," Edwina replied .

"I can't help but wonder why you were walking in the first place," Miss Bawden remarked.

As they approached the coach, Edwina explained, "We sent our own carriage ahead of us to the village."

"Well, that certainly explains it," Miss Bawden joked before settling back into her seat.

Miles offered his hand and assisted Edwina into the coach. She sat next to Miss Bawden while Miles took a seat across from them.

With a jolt, the coach began its journey and Miss Bawden shifted in her seat to face Edwina. "I suppose you have no intention of enlightening me on your reasons for walking."

"You are correct in that assumption," Edwina confirmed.

Miss Bawden regarded her with a curious look, and Edwina worried she might persist with the matter. Fortunately, to Edwina's relief, Miss Bawden tilted her head and remarked, "I can accept that… for now."

Edwina exchanged a glance with Miles before she turned her attention towards the window. She would eventually tell her friend why they had been forced to abandon their carriage and continue on foot, but now was not the time. She needed more answers before she would be comfortable telling anyone.

One thing was certain, she was grateful for Miles. His strength had comforted her, leaving her feeling stronger than she was before. She did have a problem, though. Her feelings for him had started to deepen the more time they spent together.

She was setting herself up for heartache when he left, but, for now, she was just going to cherish every moment she had with Miles.

Miles adjusted his cravat as his valet removed a speck of lint from his jacket. A distant chime echoed through the manor, beckoning everyone to gather in the drawing room for dinner.

Bailey took a step back. "Will there be anything else, my lord?"

"No, but thank you," Miles replied.

He walked towards the door and pulled it open, revealing Bennett leaning casually against the opposite wall.

Miles raised an eyebrow at his friend's unexpected presence. "Dare I ask why you are lurking outside of my bedchamber?"

"It isn't lurking when it is my home," Bennett replied as he straightened himself. "I thought we could make our way down to dinner together."

Miles worked to keep the disappointment off his face since he had been eager to escort Edwina down to dinner.

Bennett gave him a knowing look, as though he could read his thoughts. "My cousin has already made her way downstairs and is most likely waiting for us."

"That is good," Miles said, attempting to appear uninterested in what he had just revealed.

As they walked down the corridor, Bennett asked in a firm voice, "What are your intentions towards Edwina?"

Miles was caught off guard, not by the question itself, considering the amount of time he had spent with Edwina, but more so by the timing of it. How could he answer this question in such a short period of time? He cared for Edwina, but he had no intention of pursuing her. He couldn't. How could he when he still loved his wife?

Stumbling over his words, he said, "I… um… have none."

Bennett came to an abrupt stop and turned to face Miles, his nostrils flaring in a sign of anger. "You mean to have a dalliance with her then?"

Miles was taken aback by the accusation. "No! How could you even think such a thing? "

"What am I supposed to think?" Bennett asked. "You have been spending quite a lot of time together and growing rather close."

"We are simply friends," Miles insisted.

Bennett's expression was stern as he countered, "Your actions in the gardens this morning suggested otherwise."

"I assure you, my behavior towards Lady Edwina is entirely honorable," Miles said.

Bennett studied him for a long moment before saying, "I believe you, but that does not mean I have to like it. I do not want to see my cousin get hurt."

"I do not wish for that either," Miles replied earnestly.

With a heavy sigh, Bennett continued down the corridor as Miles matched his stride. "I worry about my cousin in the marriage mart," he confessed.

"As do I," Miles said.

Bennett ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I don't know how I can possibly watch over both my sisters and Edwina this Season. It all seems too overwhelming."

"I can help you," Miles reassured him.

"You are attending the Season?" Bennett asked.

Miles nodded. "It is time for me to take up my seat in the House of Lords."

"That is commendable, but I did not think you would make time for the frivolousness of social events," Bennett commented.

"I am dreading those social events, but I made a promise to Lady Edwina that I would be there to help guide her," Miles shared.

Bennett regarded him with a curious gaze. "You? But you detest social events."

"I do, but, as I said before, Lady Edwina and I are friends," Miles replied.

"That is…" Bennett's words trailed off. "Intriguing. "

Miles shook his head. "There is nothing ‘intriguing' about it. I am merely helping a friend."

Bennett's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Men and women cannot truly be friends," he declared. "One always cares for the other more than they should. It is a disaster waiting to happen."

"You must not have very many friends, then," Miles quipped.

Bennett chuckled. "Says a man that pushes all his friends away," he countered.

Try as he might, Miles couldn't deny the truth in those words. "It is easier that way," he admitted with resignation.

The humor faded from Bennett's expression as he looked at Miles with concern. "It may be easier, but it is lonely to be alone."

"Loneliness is a constant friend, I'm afraid. It is what I am familiar with and, quite frankly, it is what I deserve," Miles said.

Bennett stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to face him. "You are more than your past. You have a future. You just need to know where to look for it."

Miles remained rooted in his spot as Bennett descended the stairs. His friend's words sounded simple, but they were anything but. How could he move on and forget about Arabella? He couldn't do that. Not to her. And not to himself.

Edwina emerged from the drawing room and looked up at him with a questioning look. Her dark green gown hugged her curves perfectly. She truly was a beautiful woman, radiating beauty from within. For when she smiled, his soul seemed to come alive.

He descended the stairs, his eyes never leaving Edwina's as he came to a stop in front of her. "Hello," he greeted softly.

She offered him a shy smile. "Hello."

"I missed escorting you down to the drawing room this evening," he admitted. "Instead, I was forced to walk with Bennett."

"How awful for you," she teased, a twinkle in her eyes.

"It was," Miles replied with mock seriousness. "Thank you for acknowledging that."

With a glance over her shoulder, Edwina shared, "Bennett has been rather inquisitive of me regarding how much time we are spending together."

Miles gave her an understanding look. "I experienced the same thing on our walk here."

"We can't tell him the truth, not yet at least," Edwina said. "But he does suspect something is going on between us."

"He said that to you?" Miles asked.

"Not in so many words," Edwina replied. "I may just be a woman, but I am not entirely un clever."

Miles grinned. "You enjoy making up your own words, don't you?"

"Unclever is a word," she protested.

"No, it is not," Miles insisted.

Edwina tilted her chin defensively. "I read the word unclever in the writings of John Ash."

"The Baptist?" Miles asked, lowering his voice. "You read one of his books?"

"Do not look so surprised, considering he wrote many grammar books," Edwina replied. "My father had a penchant for grammar."

A smile tugged at Miles' lips at the thought of a young Edwina eagerly devouring a grammar book. "Well, I stand corrected on ‘unclever' but you still made up the word ‘earlish.'"

"It will catch on," she insisted.

"No, it won't," he said with a chuckle.

Lady Dallington's voice came from the doorway to the drawing room. "Lord Hilgrove, please join us in here as we wait for my husband. "

"Very well," Miles said, offering his arm to Edwina.

As they walked into the drawing room, Edwina commented, "Thank you for being so ‘earlish' by escorting me."

Miles let out a long sigh. "Now you are trying too hard. It is pathetic, really," he said, his words tinged with mirth.

Edwina laughed. "At least I can whistle," she stated.

Bennett looked between them curiously as he stood by the mantel. "Who cannot whistle?" he asked.

"Lord Hilgrove," Edwina said as she removed her arm from his. "I just discovered this today and it shocketh me."

"There is no shame in not knowing how to whistle," Lady Dallington remarked, "but there is shame in saying the word ‘shocketh.'"

"It is a word," Edwina said.

"An archaic word that has no place in the vocabulary of a genteel woman," Lady Dallington remarked.

Miles smirked at Edwina. "Your aunt is a wise woman. You would do well to heed her words."

Rolling her eyes, Edwina retorted, "You just think she is wise because she agreed with you."

"Most wise people do," Miles responded.

Bennett interjected, "I recall that Miles used to spuddle away his time when he was at Eton."

"Perhaps when we first started, but by the time we went to university, I had grown out of that phase," Miles defended.

Edwina raised her hand.

Lady Dallington gave her a baffled look. "What is it, Edwina?"

"Why did no one criticize Bennett for using the word ‘spuddle'? That is also an archaic word," Edwina pointed out.

"‘Spuddle' implies inefficiency in the way one works," Lady Dallington replied. "It is still a perfectly acceptable word in our Society today."

"If you accept ‘spuddle,' then I think you should accept ‘ shocketh,'" Edwina argued with amusement in her eyes. "At least in our home."

Miles let out a deep chuckle. "You are relentless, my lady."

"Yes, she is," Bennett remarked. "Quite frankly, I haven't seen Edwina this passionate about anything for far too long."

Lord Dallington stepped into the room and Miles watched as Edwina grew visibly tense. "I am sorry I am late," he said as he went to kiss his wife's cheek. "I assure you that it couldn't be helped."

"I know, Dear," Lady Dallington said. "We were just waiting for you to join us before we adjourned to the dining room."

"Well, let us not wait any longer," Lord Dallington responded, offering his arm to his wife.

Miles stepped forward and offered his arm to Edwina. "You need to breathe," he whispered.

"My uncle is a liar, and I can't believe that he would treat my aunt so distastefully," Edwina whispered back with determination in her voice.

"I warned you that this would be difficult, but we must gather all the facts before confronting him," Miles reminded her.

Edwina took a deep breath before saying, "You are right."

"Can you say that again, and perhaps a bit louder so others can hear you?" Miles quipped.

"Now who is trying too hard?" Edwina bantered back.

Miles led Edwina into the elegant dining room, pulling out her chair before taking the seat next to her.

Lord Dallington spoke up from the head of the table. "How was your day of angling?" he asked, glancing between Miles and Bennett.

"Oh, Miles didn't go angling," Bennett informed his father. "He decided a visit to the village with Edwina would be much more enjoyable."

"Is that so?" Lord Dallington asked .

"Yes, my lord," Miles responded. "I asked Lady Edwina to help me pick out a gift for my sister and we found some exquisite ribbon that will work quite nicely."

Lord Dallington let out a bored sigh. "Women do love their ribbons."

Miles bobbed his head in agreement. "Indeed, they do."

Bennett leaned forward in his seat. "Shall we finally play that game of pall-mall tomorrow morning?" he asked.

"I have no objections," Miles replied before he shifted his gaze to Edwina. "What do you say?"

As Edwina reached for her glass of water, she remarked, "I think that sounds like great fun. I shall send word to Miss Bawden."

"Wonderful," Bennett said, clasping his hands together. "And in the afternoon, we shall go shooting and make a competition out of it."

The footman placed a bowl of soup in front of Miles as he leaned to the side to reach for his spoon. "That hardly seems fair, considering I was a sharpshooter in the war."

"But have you picked up a pistol since the war?" Bennett asked knowingly.

Miles grew solemn and he worked hard to keep the anguish out of his expression. "No, because I have seen enough death to last a lifetime."

Bennett's face softened with understanding. "If you would prefer, we could do something else instead."

"It is all right," Miles responded, forcing a small, strained smile to his lips. "It is something that needs to be done sooner rather than later."

Miles turned his attention towards his bowl of soup and began to eat, retreating to his own thoughts. To some, it may have seemed silly that he had avoided guns for all this time, but it was a constant reminder of the lives he had taken. Each gunshot echoed in his mind, each life lost weighing heavily on his conscience .

Moreover, and no less significant, he had lost his brother in a duel. One single shot irrevocably altered his life forever. The mere thought of holding another pistol made his stomach churn.

Edwina's voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you all right, my lord?"

Miles turned his head towards her. "I will be."

And that was the truth.

Edwina's presence seemed to calm his racing mind and bring him a sense of comfort and solace that he so desperately craved.