Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Edwina sat at the dining table as she listened to the conversation going on around her. She felt no need to interject her thoughts, not that they would be welcomed by her uncle, who appeared to barely tolerate her as of late.

She sat alone on her side of the table, which was preferable to her. Her cousin and Lord Hilgrove sat across from her, while her aunt and uncle occupied the opposite ends of the table.

Edwina took her fork and moved the food around her plate. Her uncle hadn't always treated her with such disdain. Growing up, she had always enjoyed being around him, but everything changed when he inherited the title from her father. He grew distant, almost cold, a stark change in his demeanor towards her.

She had often asked herself why the sudden change. Had she done something wrong to earn his ire? If so, she wished she knew what it was so she could fix it.

Her aunt's voice broke through her musings. "Are you not hungry, Dear?"

Realizing she had been caught woolgathering, Edwina lowered her fork to the plate and replied, "I'm afraid not, but the food was delicious."

"That it was," her aunt agreed.

Her uncle cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "You should be more present in the conversation, especially when we have guests dining with us," he chided.

"Yes, Uncle," Edwina acknowledged.

"You mentioned calling upon someone earlier," her uncle said. "Who was that again?"

Edwina wasn't surprised that her uncle had dismissed what she had said earlier as unimportant. "Mr. and Mrs. Warren," she replied.

Her uncle gave her a blank stare. "Why would you wish to call upon your father's old butler?"

Edwina went to reply, but Bennett spoke up. "Mr. Warren is a good man and served Uncle Richard dutifully."

"Yes, well, now he is living off my good graces," her uncle grumbled. "I do not know what the blazes Richard was thinking about when he willed one of our cottages to the Warrens."

Bennett reached for his glass as he shared, "I find it admirable how Uncle Richard made sure to take care of the Warrens even after he passed."

Her uncle's expression was stern as he countered, "He still was a servant."

"That is very high-handed of you, Father," Bennett stated. "Besides, Mrs. Warren was a delightful housekeeper who always made sure I had plenty of biscuits during our visits."

The tension in the room rose as her uncle leaned forward in his seat. "There is a line that must be drawn with servants, but it seems Richard believed that line could be blurred."

Edwina knew her next words would not be well received by her uncle, but she said them anyway. "My father treated the Warrens like family. "

"That is rubbish!" her uncle exclaimed. "By doing so, the Warrens would never have learned their place."

She bristled at her uncle's words, her back stiffening in response. She knew it was pointless to argue with him since he was an incredibly stubborn man who seemed to revel in disagreements. But he was wrong. Her father cared more about the people working around him than following what Society dictated.

Lord Hilgrove spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "I do believe it says a lot about a man by the way he treats his servants, or people that are less fortunate than himself."

"I am not for tar and feathering the servants, but I do think it is important that they know their place," her uncle insisted. "We have worked too hard to be lumped in with commoners. It is our birthright."

Lord Hilgrove seemed to take her uncle's words in stride as he shared, "I rather enjoyed serving in the Army, because no one seemed to care that I was a son of an earl. They only cared that I did my job, a job that many lives depended on."

Her uncle settled back in his seat. "I have no doubt that you served honorably in the war but life is much different on English soil."

"I wholeheartedly agree to that," Lord Hilgrove said.

Edwina leaned to the side as a footman stepped forward to retrieve her plate. With only dessert remaining, she anticipated retiring to her bedchamber for the evening, looking forward to her nightly routine of reading by the crackling fire in the hearth.

Her aunt redirected her focus towards Lord Hilgrove. "Have you been to Town since you have returned from the war?"

"No, I'm afraid my country estate has commanded much of my attention, and I have little time for frivolous things," Lord Hilgrove responded .

"That is a shame. Everyone deserves to have fun, once in a while," her aunt said.

"I'm afraid my brother didn't spend the time necessary to make our estate profitable and it has taken much work to bring it up to snuff," Lord Hilgrove shared.

Her aunt smiled. "Elodie and Melody will be arriving any day now and they will be pleased to see you once more," she said. "They refused to leave their boarding school a day earlier than required."

"I do not blame them, considering I only have fond memories of my time at Eton," Lord Hilgrove shared.

Bennett chuckled. "Only fond memories?" he joked. "What about the time our headmaster punished us for sneaking out for a night swim at the stream? Or when we caused a mouse invasion?"

"Mouse invasion?" Edwina asked.

"Yes, we had the ingenious idea of storing food in our dormitories, despite it being against the rules," Bennett said. "For a few days, we thought we had outwitted our headmaster and we feasted on food late into the evening."

Edwina leaned forward in her seat. "What happened?"

Bennett's lips curled upward. "The mice arrived in droves and ate through everything. It was awful, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who the culprits were. We were severely punished and I couldn't sit down for days."

"How awful," Edwina murmured.

"No, what is awful is sharing a bed with mice," Lord Hilgrove added. "They went after the crumbs in my bed, and it didn't matter that I was occupying it."

Edwina shuddered. "I can't even imagine how awful that would be."

A somber expression crossed Lord Hilgrove's face. "As awful as that was, it was nothing compared to the numerous rats we encountered on the Continent. "

"I'm sorry," Edwina said, a sense of inadequacy lingering in her words.

"No, it is me that should apologize," Lord Hilgrove remarked. "I should not have broached the subject of the war over supper, particularly with ladies present."

Finding herself curious, Edwina asked, "What was the war like?"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to ask because Lord Hilgrove stiffened, his once open countenance cloaked by the shadows of memory, and his eyes grew guarded. "I cannot explain in detail the depravity that I saw and the lives that were lost, some in such a senseless manner."

Before Edwina could respond, her uncle interjected with a stern rebuke, "What were you thinking, Edwina? You can't just ask someone about the war. That was rather thoughtless of you, considering ladies do not speak of such things."

Edwina's eyes grew downcast as she tried to pretend that her uncle's words didn't affect her so deeply. He was always so quick to chide her, too quick.

"Lady Edwina did nothing wrong, and I didn't mean to imply as much," Lord Hilgrove stated, coming to her defense. "War is a fascinating topic yet a harrowing subject, and I could understand why it piqued her interest."

Bringing her gaze up, Edwina couldn't quite believe what had just happened. This man she hardly knew had just defended her. In a soft voice, she said, "Thank you, my lord."

Their eyes met again, and Edwina saw a kindness in his expression that carried over into his eyes. Though not quick to smile, there was a genuineness to him that she found captivating.

"Well, shall we eat our dessert?" her aunt asked.

Edwina lowered her gaze, feeling a subtle warmth creeping up her cheeks for having held Lord Hilgrove's gaze for so long, as she reached for her spoon .

"We are playing a game of pall-mall tomorrow. Who would care to join us?" Bennett asked the table.

"We are?" Lord Hilgrove inquired.

Bennett nodded with enthusiasm. "Indeed, we are going to make you have fun here, whether you want to or not. We are a fun family."

"I have a series of meetings all day tomorrow," her uncle shared.

"And I have a fitting session with the dressmaker," her aunt informed them. "Perhaps I shall join you, depending on the time you play."

Bennett sighed theatrically. "It would seem that we are not as entertaining as we believe. We should be dubbed the ‘I am too busy to properly enjoy myself' family."

With a brief glance at Lord Hilgrove, Edwina said, "I will join you."

"Wonderful," Bennett declared. "However, we will need one more person to join us. Do you think your friend, Miss Bawden, would be interested in joining us?"

"I can ask," Edwina responded.

"We shall play at dawn," Bennett announced, emphasizing each word with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

"Dawn?" Lord Hilgrove raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You don't actually expect us to partake in a game at such an early hour?"

Bennett feigned a mock expression of disapproval. "Very well. We shall play after breakfast so my dandy friend here can sleep in."

"I never said I sleep in," Lord Hilgrove said.

"Don't forget to don a cap this evening to preserve your impeccable hair," Bennett teased. "We wouldn't want your locks tousled for our pall-mall game."

"You are a muttonhead," Lord Hilgrove muttered.

Bennett placed a hand over his chest. "You insult me in front of the ladies?" he asked. "That isn't very gentlemanly of you."

"Well, I am sure they already know what a muttonhead you are," Lord Hilgrove retorted.

A laugh escaped Edwina's lips at their banter, and she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

Pushing back his chair, her uncle declared, "I think it is about time for a glass of port. Gentlemen, would you care to join me?"

As her cousin and Lord Hilgrove followed suit, her aunt caught Edwina's gaze and inquired, "Did you plan to read this evening?"

"I did," Edwina replied. "Is that all right?"

Her aunt's expression softened. "You don't need my permission. You are welcome to read anytime you wish."

"Thank you," Edwina expressed as she pushed back her chair. "Goodnight, Aunt Catherine."

"Goodnight, my dear," her aunt responded.

While Edwina departed from the dining room, she found herself eager for her nightly routine. There was a particular joy in changing into something more comfortable and indulging in her favorite pastime- reading. These quiet times reminded her of how she used to spend time with her father.

The sun had just peeked over the horizon as Miles sat atop his horse on a hill that overlooked Brockhall Manor. He had always enjoyed waking up early, giving him the opportunity to take time for himself without all the distractions. Although, as of late, his thoughts stewed in his mind, making it rather unbearable to find solace even in the quiet dawn.

He shouldn't be here, he thought. He should be back at his estate, working on his accounts and ensuring his tenants were being taken care of. Why was he wasting his time here? Bennett was trying to help him, but he was past hope. Broken. No one could help him overcome what he had been through.

A sudden movement in the distance diverted his troubled thoughts. He watched as Lady Edwina raced across the fields with poise, despite her breakneck speed. She didn't slow her horse as she veered towards the woodlands.

Miles gripped the reins tighter in his hands, concerned for her safety. The woodlands were treacherous, even with a marked trail, and such reckless speed could lead to injury. At least, that was his experience of the woodlands on his lands.

But it was none of his business. How Edwina rode her horse shouldn't matter to him so why did his eyes remain on the path that she had taken?

Botheration.

He should return his horse to the stables and leave well enough alone. However, he was unable to do so. He felt compelled to ensure that Edwina was well. An unforeseen desire to protect her seemed to cloud his judgment, leaving him with one option.

Miles kicked his horse into a run and headed towards the woodlands. Once he arrived at the trail where Edwina had disappeared, he eased his horse into a slower pace entering the woods. The trees formed a natural canopy overhead, casting dappled shadows that heightened the contrast between light and darkness in the early morning.

Moving along the path, Miles couldn't help but be entranced by the serene beauty that unfolded around him. Sunlight filtered through the foliage, creating a mesmerizing dance of shadows on the forest floor.

Up ahead, he saw Edwina's horse before he saw her. She was sitting on a large rock, her gaze fixed on a gently meandering stream. She remained unaware of his presence, lost in contemplation with her back turned towards him.

Now that he confirmed that Edwina was safe, the sensible choice would be to leave and allow her the tranquility of the moment.

But something stopped him, and it was that something that caused him to dismount his horse.

Keeping a firm hold on the reins in his hand, he walked towards Edwina, a keen awareness of the potential consequences if anyone discovered them alone in the woodlands.

Edwina didn't seem to notice his presence as he approached. He didn't want to scare the poor girl, so he said in a soft voice, "Lady Edwina."

She gasped as she quickly moved off the rock, creating more distance between them. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I saw you entering the woodlands and I wanted to ensure you were all right," Miles said, knowing how absurd he sounded at the moment. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

"As you can see, I am well," Edwina stated. "You may go."

Miles nodded. "I would be remiss if I did not tell you that you ride your horse far too recklessly and I would encourage you to use some restraint, especially when entering the woodlands."

She offered him a shy smile. "You wouldn't be the first person to tell me so, but I do thank you for your concern."

"How did you learn to ride like that?" Miles asked.

"My father said I was in the saddle before I could walk," Edwina shared. "I have always had a fascination with horses."

Miles studied Edwina for a moment. She seemed much more forthright than usual, as if the woodlands gave her strength.

Edwina furrowed her brow. "What is it?"

"You are not as reserved as you usually are," Miles observed.

"I suppose I'm not," Edwina said.

Miles' eyes roamed over his surroundings and acknowledged, " I think you might have found the most picturesque place I have ever seen."

Turning her attention back towards the stream, Edwina remarked, "This was my father's favorite place to come and sit. He would do so for hours. When I want to feel close to him, I come here and try to remember his voice. He said my name in a way only a father could, a way that I knew meant love."

"I am sorry for your loss," Miles said, knowing his words were wholly inadequate.

Edwina acknowledged his words with a subtle tip of her head, choosing to remain silent. Not that he blamed her. He had heard that same phrase offered countless times after the deaths of his wife and brother. He couldn't help but wonder if people uttered these words out of genuine empathy or merely as a societal obligation.

They lingered there, time stretching out before them. Miles sensed he should depart, yet against his own judgment, he inquired, "How long has it been?"

"A little over four months now," Edwina sighed. "Everyone said that it gets easier with time, but they are wrong."

"That they are. No amount of time will fill the void that was left when your father died. It festers, robbing life of its joy."

Edwina regarded him with curiosity. "You speak from experience." Her words carried a weight of knowing, as if she had already assumed his answer.

"I do, regretfully so," he admitted, reluctant to disclose more.

"That person must have meant a great deal to you," she prodded gently, her words laced with sympathy.

Miles felt his back grow rigid at her words. "They were very dear to me." That was all he wished to say at the moment.

Thankfully, Edwina seemed to sense his discomfort and did not press him. Instead, she said, "My uncle thinks I should just move on from my father's passing, just as he has so easily done."

"Everyone grieves differently," he attempted.

"I don't think my uncle grieved at all." Her hand shot up to her mouth. "Forgive me. That was?—"

Miles interjected, "The truth."

She lowered her hand and responded, "Yes, but I shouldn't have said such a thing."

"You need not fear. I will not betray your confidence," Miles assured her.

Edwina offered him a grateful look. "How is it that you are awake at such an early hour?" she asked. "I thought you preferred to sleep in."

"No, Bennett implied such, but I enjoy waking up before dawn and being alone with my thoughts," he said.

"The mornings are the only time that I feel as if I am able to breathe."

Miles led his horse to the stream to drink. "I do apologize for intruding on your solitude. That was rather thoughtless of me."

Edwina's expression softened. "I know it may sound contradictory, but it is nice to not be alone." She hesitated before adding, "I am sorry that I asked you about the war. That was callous of me."

Miles grew somber. "The war was my life. Until it wasn't. Now I am left a broken man with nothing to show for it." The weight of his words hung in the quiet air, as the stream continued its peaceful murmur.

"I share your sentiments, except for the war part. My father was my whole world. Until he wasn't," she remarked.

Edwina grew silent, and he feared he might have unintentionally upset her. As he was about to express his concern, she spoke up. "I should be going. We wouldn't want to risk being seen with one another, considering the circumstances. "

"I had a similar thought as well."

She bit her lower lip before saying, "It was nice to have someone to talk to. I grow tired of everyone looking at me with pity."

Miles knitted his brows together, genuinely puzzled. "Why would anyone pity you?"

Her gaze grew distant. "Why, indeed?" she asked. "I am an orphan and I have to rely on my uncle for support."

A sympathetic frown formed on Miles' face. "That is your uncle's duty to do so. I must assume he is your guardian."

"He is, but I do not wish to be ‘a duty,'" Edwina responded with a bitter undertone. "My uncle barely seems to tolerate me these days."

Miles felt a surge of empathy for Edwina's plight. "I do not know what I can say that could help you."

Edwina's shoulders drooped, no doubt weighed down by her troubles. "That is the thing. I don't know what you could say either. It is the plight of being a female, I suppose."

Miles wished he had the perfect words to offer solace, to dispel the sadness not just from her eyes but from the depths of her soul. However, he felt useless to help. He couldn't even seem to help himself. Why would he think he could help another?

He watched as Edwina went to retrieve her horse and lead him back to the large rock. In a swift motion, she used the rock to climb onto her saddle.

"I could have helped you," Miles pointed out.

"You could have, but I have learned to manage on my own," Edwina said, a tinge of vulnerability in her voice.

Miles stepped closer to her horse and placed a hand on its neck. "I will have you know that your cousin loves you very much."

Edwina bobbed her head. "I love Bennett. He has been a saving grace to me ever since my father died. Without him, and my aunt, I don't know how I would have survived these past few months. He understands me without words and offers unwavering support. It has been nice to have such an ally by my side."

"What of Lord Winston?"

"He is in London, working as a barrister. He is determined to prove himself as more than just a second son," Edwina shared. "He came home for my father's funeral but departed shortly thereafter. I do believe he is expected home when Elodie and Melody return from boarding school."

"Are you close with your other cousins?"

A wistful smile played on Edwina's lips. "I am. They used to come spend the summers at Brockhall Manor and we would have such fun. It was a time that I greatly cherish."

"That sounds perfect."

"It was," Edwina agreed, her eyes reflecting the fond memories. "We would stay up late, wake up early, and go swimming in the pond, much to my father's chagrin. It was rather idyllic, at least while it lasted. We all seemed to grow up much too fast."

"I do believe that is a common sentiment."

Edwina adjusted the reins in her hand, her fingers tracing the contours thoughtfully. "I tried to convince my father to send me to the same boarding school as Elodie and Melody, but he was adamant that I have a governess. I think he wanted to keep me close."

"Do you blame him for that?"

"No, especially now," Edwina replied. "I'm glad that I was able to spend so much time with him, not knowing how long it would last."

Miles took a step back. "If only we had more time with our loved ones. Sometimes they are taken much too early."

"I agree, wholeheartedly."

An unusual calm settled upon him, and he found himself drawn to linger in Edwina's presence. It felt as if his soul could finally breathe again. It was unnerving, and yet, all he felt was calm. Peace. It was a feeling that he hadn't felt for some time.

Unsure of why she had elicited such a reaction in him, Miles remarked, "I should not keep you any longer, but I have enjoyed conversing with you."

"And I, you," Edwina responded. "I shall see you back at the manor."

Miles gave her a chiding look. "Do try to avoid riding at such a breakneck speed."

"What is the point, then?" Edwina retorted.

He chuckled. "I see that stubbornness is a family trait," he joked.

Edwina laughed, a beautiful sound that momentarily stole Miles' breath. "Yes, the Lockwood family is known for our stubbornness. It has been passed down for many generations."

Miles cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. "Good day, my lady."

"Good day, my lord," Edwina responded before she urged her horse forward.

As he watched Edwina disappear down the path, Miles was forced to recognize that his initial impression of her had been incorrect. She was reserved, given the right circumstances, but she also could be rather pleasant to converse with. He usually found most conversations with young women to be tedious, but Edwina was different. She was purposeful in her thoughts. A trait that he greatly appreciated.

Nevertheless, he would be mindful to keep his distance. He had no intention of delving deeper into more of an acquaintance with Edwina.