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Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Edwina descended the servants' staircase, her footsteps light and careful as she made her way towards the bustling kitchen. The familiar scent of warm bread and roasting meat wafted through the air. She spotted the portly cook, the woman's back to her, standing by the hearth and stirring something in a large pot.

On the counter next to her was a large basket, overflowing with an assortment of foods- fruits, cheeses and meats.

As Edwina reached for the basket, she asked, "Is this the basket for the Warrens?"

Mrs. Meek turned around and faced her with a smile "It is, my lady," she replied. "Be sure to give them my regards."

"I will," Edwina said, slipping the handle of the basket onto her arm.

While Mrs. Meek wiped her hands on the apron that hung around her neck, she inquired, "How are you faring with Lord Dunsby's house guest?"

This was the last thing that she wanted to talk about, but she couldn't be rude to someone who had shown her kindness since she was a child.

Mustering up a smile, Edwina replied, "I am well. Lord Hilgrove is a pleasant enough man." There. That much was true. If she was lucky, that would end this line of questioning.

But she wasn't so lucky.

Mrs. Meek stepped closer and lowered her voice. "I have heard Lord Hilgrove is rather handsome."

Edwina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Not this again. Why was everyone so fixated on how handsome Lord Hilgrove was? It was maddening.

With a shrug, Edwina said, "I suppose he is tolerable."

"Tolerable?" Mrs. Meek questioned, clearly not impressed with her response. "That is not how the maids describe him."

Knowing she was going to come to regret this, Edwina asked, "Dare I even ask how they are describing Lord Hilgrove?"

Mrs. Meek grinned. "The general consensus is that he is handsome beyond all measure."

And she already regretted asking the question.

Edwina held up her arm that held the basket. "As riveting as this conversation is, I really must deliver this basket before breakfast."

"Very well," Mrs. Meek said with a wave of her hand. "But I must say, your handsome meter is broken."

Taken aback by this odd comment, Edwina asked, "My ‘handsome meter'?"

A look of amusement played on Mrs. Meek's face as she responded, "Lord Hilgrove is clearly a very handsome man, but you only find him ‘tolerable'? Either your handsome meter is broken or you are lying to yourself. Which one is it?"

Giving a resigned sigh, Edwina replied, "Neither, I assure you. I really must be going now."

Mrs. Meek tipped her head. "Good day to you, my lady."

After she murmured her goodbyes, Edwina departed from the servants' entrance and looked up at the sky. Why was everyone so insistent on discussing Lord Hilgrove with her? They were merely acquaintances, not even friends, although that line was beginning to blur.

She started walking down the path leading towards the Warrens' cottage and saw a horse approaching in the distance. It only took her a moment to recognize the rider.

Lord Hilgrove.

Panicking slightly and looking for a place to hide, Edwina realized she was too far from the safety of the woodlands to make a quick escape. Her heart raced as he drew nearer, and she tried to pretend he didn't cut a dashing figure on his horse.

Lord Hilgrove reined in his horse and raised his hand in greeting. "Lady Edwina, what a pleasant surprise."

"Yes, it is," Edwina said. "How was your ride?"

"Delightful. Did you not ride this morning?" he inquired, dismounting his horse.

Edwina nodded. "I went at dawn," she informed him. "I find it is the most peaceful time to sit and reflect."

Lord Hilgrove grew thoughtful. "I must admit that our conversation from last night has been weighing heavily on my mind."

"You mean when Bennett thought he was his mother's favorite?" Edwina asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

He chuckled. "No, but that conversation was rather entertaining."

Edwina smiled. "I have long suspected Winston is my aunt's favorite since he is a barrister. He can out-argue anyone and it can be quite frustrating to be in a debate with him, even if you have right on your side."

"I can only imagine," Lord Hilgrove said, returning her smile.

As they stood there, smiling at one another, Edwina couldn't help but admire the chiseled features of Lord Hilgrove's face. His strong jawline and piercing blue eyes were enough to make any woman swoon, but she shouldn't be noticing such things about her cousin's guest. Lord Hilgrove was here for Bennett, not her. And she needed to be mindful of that. He would leave soon and she had no desire to pine after him.

Her smile faltered as she raised the basket in her hand. "If you will excuse me, I must deliver this basket to the Warrens."

"If memory serves me right, Mr. Warren used to be your father's butler," Lord Hilgrove remarked.

"Yes, and Mrs. Warren was our housekeeper," Edwina shared. She was rather impressed that he remembered their conversation.

A flicker of uncertainty passed over Lord Hilgrove's usually confident expression. "May I accompany you?" he asked quickly, almost anxiously. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse him, but she saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it touched her, more than she cared to admit. "I would greatly enjoy that," she replied. And that was the truth. Which frightened her even more.

Lord Hilgrove held his hand out for the basket. "May I?"

Edwina relinquished her hold on the basket, and they began to walk down the path. She wanted to say something clever, but she was at a loss as what to say. In fact, she couldn't think of anything to say. Her mind was befuddled with him standing so close.

Fortunately, Lord Hilgrove seemed more at ease and spoke up. "I hope you do not mind, but I rode to your special spot in the woodlands."

"It is not mine," she responded. "It is a place for anyone to enjoy."

"You are most gracious." He tilted his head back to admire the clear blue sky. "It is shaping up to be a beautiful day, is it not?"

"Yes, quite lovely," she readily agreed. The weather was a safe and mundane topic of conversation.

Lord Hilgrove brought his gaze back to meet hers. "I was hoping to revisit our conversation from last night." He hesitated before asking, "Do you truly believe that Arabella's death was not my fault?"

The way he spoke his words caused her to pause and something stirred inside of her. They were spoken with such raw emotion, as if he were baring his soul.

Edwina came to a stop and turned to face him. "With my whole heart, I believe it was not your fault."

Lord Hilgrove looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of deep pain in his eyes. His voice was low and filled with sorrow as he shared, "Arabella was increasing when she died. I didn't just lose her that day… I lost my future."

Unable- or unwilling- to stop herself, Edwina stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she said, at a loss for any other words. He was hurting, and she wished she had the words that would ease his burden.

"No one knew about the baby but us," Lord Hilgrove shared, his eyes growing moist. "It was our secret."

Edwina remained silent, patiently waiting for him to continue if he chose to.

His jaw clenched tightly as he revealed, "It wasn't long after her death that I received word that my brother had died."

"Oh, my," she gasped. "How awful."

"I lost everything I held dear in a short period of time," Lord Hilgrove admitted, his voice trembling with emotion. "And now, I have nothing left to live for."

Before she thought through the repercussions of her actions, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. "I understand," she murmured. "But it will get better. You must take each day as it comes."

Resting his chin atop her head, Lord Hilgrove let out a heavy sigh. "I have been trying, but the pain lingers. A constant companion of what I have lost."

"When my father died, I walked around in a haze, unable to believe that he was truly gone. A part of me had been ripped away and I felt as if I had nothing to give," Edwina shared. "No one could console me, and I felt alone. So utterly alone."

Edwina continued. "My family tried to help me, as did my friends. But grief is a journey that one must make alone. And not everyone comes out a victor."

Lord Hilgrove took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. "How is it that you are not falling apart right now? Your father only died four months ago."

"Four months and seven days," Edwina murmured. "It is a day that I am unlikely to forget. No one teaches you how to watch your father die. Nor does anyone teach you how to say a final goodbye."

"I held Arabella's hand as she passed, and I continued to hold it for much longer after that. I just couldn't seem to let her go," Lord Hilgrove shared.

Edwina felt tears form in the back of her eyes and she blinked them away. "Moments like those are so monumental that it changes everything."

Lord Hilgrove grew silent. Finally, after a long moment, he said, "You do understand." The relief in his voice was palpable.

"I do," she confirmed, her heart aching for him.

"What a pair we make," he remarked. "Where do we go from here?"

Edwina felt a tear slip down her cheek. "We move forward, remembering the loved ones that are no longer with us."

She could feel Lord Hilgrove bob his head in agreement. "I can do that."

"Good, I am glad you agree," Edwina said with a hint of humor in her voice. "Because I am out of advice."

Lord Hilgrove chuckled, the sound bringing a small smile to Edwina's lips. "It was good advice," he acknowledged. " But, perhaps, we should deliver this basket now so we are not late for breakfast."

As she recognized the precariousness of their situation, Edwina dropped her arms and took a step back. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she stumbled over her words. "Yes… um… that is a fine idea," she rushed out. "Breakfast is indeed a good thing."

"Yes, it is a very good thing," he repeated with an amused grin playing on his lips.

Edwina felt like a complete fool. Why couldn't she formulate coherent sentences in front of him? But deep down, she already knew the answer. Lord Hilgrove's piercing gaze had a way of disarming her, making her forget all rational thought. And now, against all odds, she had developed feelings for him.

As Miles strolled with Edwina down the path, the basket comfortably tucked under his arm and the reins of his horse securely in his hand, he felt a reprieve from his unrelenting grief. Her words had touched him deeply, like a soothing balm for his soul. They resonated deep within him, filling him with a sense of peace and giving him the rest he so desperately needed. For the first time since his wife had died, his heart felt lighter and he could finally breathe without the suffocating grip of sorrow.

Miles glanced over at Edwina and noticed the solemn look on her lovely face. He had not expected her to embrace him so warmly, but it was a welcome comfort in that moment. And yet, there was something unsettling about the way she fit in his arms so perfectly.

Blazes.

This would not do. He shouldn't have feelings for Edwina, but he did. And they were starting to make a nuisance of themselves.

Edwina turned her head and caught him staring. He should look away or at least pretend to be embarrassed, but instead he said, "I know very little about you, yet I feel as though we have known each other forever. Is that odd?"

With a shake of her head, Edwina replied, "No, I feel the same."

In that moment, Miles felt an overwhelming desire to learn everything he could about Edwina. "Will you tell me more about yourself?"

Edwina's eyebrow quirked up in amusement. "What exactly would you like to know?"

"Anything and everything," he replied earnestly.

A soft laugh escaped Edwina's lips. "Well then, where shall I begin?" she asked. "I should warn you that I am not very interesting."

"I don't believe that to be true, considering you bested me at archery," he pointed out.

Edwina had a thoughtful expression on her face as she shared, "When I was younger, I had a cat named Cat."

"You named your cat- ‘Cat'?" he repeated incredulously.

"I did. ‘Cat' was short for ‘Catherine the Great,'" Edwina explained. "But we just called her ‘Cat' for short."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he teased, "Dare I ask what you would call a dog?"

Edwina looked amused. "Considering it took me months to name my cat, I would have to think on it."

His grin grew broader. "It took you months to come up with your cat's name?"

She nodded. "I was six. That was the biggest decision I ever had to make up to that point."

"Out of curiosity, why did you name your cat after Catherine the Great?" he asked.

Edwina began to gesture animatedly with her hands as she explained, "My father read me a book about her, and I found it fascinating that she overthrew her husband to rule Russia. She was strong and independent, as was my cat."

Miles chuckled. "We only had barn cats to catch the mice."

"After Cat died, my father suggested we get another one, but my heart wasn't in it. It felt like betraying her memory," Edwina said.

"She was just a cat," he pointed out.

Edwina pressed her lips together. "No, she was more than that. She was a cherished member of our family."

Miles quickly put his hand up. "My apologies. I did not mean to be insensitive. Forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive," she assured him.

His next words slipped out before he could stop them. "Beautiful and gracious," he murmured.

A blush crept up Edwina's cheeks as she lowered her gaze. "You shouldn't say such things, my lord," she chided.

"But it is the truth," Miles insisted.

Edwina brought her gaze back up. "We hardly know one another."

"That may be true, but I already consider you a friend," he confessed. "Do you not feel the same way?"

In a soft voice, she replied, "I do."

"Then with your permission, may I call you by your given name?" Miles asked.

Edwina seemed to consider his words. "I have never given a gentleman leave to call me by my given name before," she remarked.

"I am not just any gentleman," Miles started, "since we have already shared an embrace."

Her eyes went wide at his words. "A true gentleman would never bring that up."

Miles chuckled at her reaction. "I am just merely pressing my point. "

After a moment of contemplation, Edwina conceded. "Very well, you may call me by my given name, but only when we are alone."

"And you will call me Miles."

Edwina met his gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She spoke in a hushed tone, barely louder than a whisper. "And I shall call you Miles."

Feeling a need to tease her, he leaned closer and asked, "What was that?"

Her eyes darted around the path before saying, "Miles."

Miles wasn't prepared for how his heart reacted to her using his given name. It felt right. Comfortable.

Edwina pointed towards a quaint thatched roof cottage just off the path. "This is the Warrens' cottage." She held her hand out. "If you give me the basket, I shall drop it off to them."

"I can deliver the basket to them myself."

"That is wholly unnecessary," she insisted. "You don't need to trouble yourself by coming to the door with me."

His lips twitched. "Why, Edwina, are you embarrassed by me?"

Her mouth dropped. "No, I am not, but you are a lord?—"

"And you are a lady," Miles interjected.

"Yes, but you are a stranger to them," Edwina reasoned.

As they stood debating, the door to the cottage opened and a short, rounded woman stood in the doorway. "Lady Edwina, is everything all right?" she called out.

Edwina dropped her hand as she replied in a cordial voice, "Yes, Mrs. Warren. Lord Hilgrove and I were just discussing who would have the honor of delivering a basket to you. It is from all of us at Brockhall Manor."

With a graceful wave, Mrs. Warren encouraged them forward. "Do come in. I have no doubt that Mr. Warren would be delighted to meet Lord Hilgrove. "

Miles secured his horse before he followed Edwina inside the cottage, where the scent of freshly baked bread and warm spices filled the air. Once inside, he extended the basket to Mrs. Warren.

Mrs. Warren's face beamed. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "What a delightful surprise."

Edwina spoke up. "Everyone at Brockhall Manor sends their well wishes for Mr. Warren's quick recovery."

"That is most kind of them, and you," Mrs. Warren replied with grateful sincerity. "Mr. Warren will want to see this basket."

Mrs. Warren turned on her heel and stepped into a room off the small entry hall.

Edwina turned towards him and in a hushed voice said, "I have known the Warrens since I was young, and they are very dear to me."

Miles eyed her curiously. "Are you worried that I won't behave?"

"Just try to not be so earlish," Edwina said.

"‘Earlish'?" he repeated back.

"Yes, it is a word," Edwina responded.

He smirked. "I think you made it up."

With a slight shrug of her shoulders, Edwina conceded, "Perhaps, but it still rings true."

Miles leaned in slightly, matching her low tone. "And how does one go about being less ‘earlish'?" he asked in mock seriousness.

Edwina perused the length of him. "I don't think it can be done," she admitted.

As he went to reply, Mrs. Warren's voice came from the doorway. "Are you coming, Dear?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Warren," she replied before she made her way into the next room.

Miles followed close behind, passing through a narrow threshold and into a small room. His eyes fell upon a tall, heavy-set man sitting on a chair, his foot propped up on a bench.

Edwina gestured towards him and provided the introductions. "Allow me to introduce Lord Hilgrove. He is a friend of my cousin's," she said.

Mrs. Warren looked upon him with approval in her eyes. "That was most kind of you to escort Lady Edwina here."

"Oh, no. He didn't escort me here," Edwina rushed out. "We met on the path and he offered to accompany me."

"Ah, thank you for that clarification," Mrs. Warren said, a smile tugging at her lips.

Mr. Warren cleared his throat. "I would rise to properly greet you, my lord, but my wife would not approve of such action."

"No, I wouldn't," Mrs. Warren confirmed.

Miles smiled. "Then you must do as your wife says," he responded.

Mr. Warren tipped his head in response. "Indeed, it is always wise to listen to one's wife. At least if you are a sane man, considering they are the ones to do the cooking."

Mrs. Warren laughed. "Don't worry, Dear, I have yet to poison you and I have no intention of doing so in the near future."

Miles glanced at Edwina and saw that her lips were curved into a bright smile as she listened to the Warrens' lighthearted conversation. It was evident in her expression that she felt comfortable here. With them.

Reaching for a book on the table next to him, Mr. Warren addressed Edwina. "I wish to return the book that I borrowed. I greatly enjoyed it."

Edwina stepped forward and collected the book from him. "Would you care for another one?"

"That won't be necessary since the doctor has given me permission to put pressure on my foot starting tomorrow," Mr. Warren revealed .

"But the doctor also said you should take it easy," Mrs. Warren pressed.

Mr. Warren let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, but the wood still needs to be chopped if we want to eat or stay warm around here."

Miles stepped forward, knowing that was something he could do. "I will do it."

"I cannot ask such a thing of you, my lord," Mr. Warren protested.

"You didn't ask, I offered," Miles remarked. "It would be silly to send for a servant when I am more than capable of wielding an ax."

Mrs. Warren exchanged a look with her husband before saying, "You are kind to offer, my lord, but we do not wish you to trouble yourself. We can manage on our own."

"I'm afraid I won't take no for an answer," Miles said firmly.

Edwina turned towards him and asked, "Do you even know how to cut wood?"

A corner of Miles' lips quirked upward. "It isn't an overly complicated process, but, yes, I do know how," he responded confidently. "It is a skill any decent soldier should possess."

"I thought I recognized a fellow military man when I saw you," Mr. Warren said, his voice reflective. "I served in the Army myself."

"As did I," Miles responded.

Mr. Warren gestured towards the window. "The ax is out back. Just a few logs would do us just fine."

As Miles moved to depart, Edwina placed a hand on his sleeve and said, "I will join you."

"I would like that very much," he replied.

Edwina's gaze lingered on him, her expression a mixture of astonishment and pride. He felt his chest swell with a sense of accomplishment as he watched the admiration in her eyes .

Who would have thought that offering to do such a mundane task would have earned Edwina's approval?

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