Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Winston sat atop his horse, his eyes wandering over the expansive fields that stretched out before him. The light rain had dusted his clothes, but the dampness did little to deter him from lingering. He needed this moment of reprieve from his relentless thoughts, a temporary escape from the burdens that weighed heavily on his heart.

Why couldn’t he find an ounce of peace? His past had hardened him, and he questioned whether he was worthy of happiness anymore. Was he destined to be miserable for the remainder of his days?

The last time he had been happy—truly happy—was when he had kissed Mattie. That unexpected moment had made his heart come alive, as if he had been waiting for Mattie all along. But she had not felt the same.

Movement in the woodlands caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a shadowy figure heading down a path. He couldn’t ignore it, especially with Isaac lurking around, no doubt waiting for an opportunity to cause trouble.

Winston urged his horse towards the path and stepped under the canopy of trees. The smell of rain mingled with the scent of the earth and leaves, reminding him of his carefree childhood days.

He dismounted swiftly, leading his horse further into the woodlands. Approaching the stream, he spotted Mattie sitting on the rock, a pensive expression on her face. Her eyes held a sadness in them, and he wished he had the power to wipe away her troubles.

In a gentle voice, he said, “Mattie.”

She turned to him and offered him a weak smile. “Good morning, Winston,” she greeted.

Winston secured his horse and noticed Grady was a short distance away, keeping watch over Mattie. He tipped his head in acknowledgment, and the Bow Street Runner did the same. At least Mattie was safe.

He approached her and asked, “Dare I ask what has you so troubled this morning?”

Mattie pressed her lips together, a clear sign that she was upset. It was just one of the many things he had noticed about her over the years. “It is my sister,” she replied. “She returned home this morning and I do not think she has changed one bit.”

“Did you expect her to?”

“Yes… no… I don’t know,” Mattie sighed. “I suppose I hoped that as she grew older that she would gain some perspective.”

Winston sat down next to Mattie on the rock but was mindful to keep a proper distance. Although nothing about this situation was proper. “She is still young,” he attempted to reassure her.

“She is, but she only thinks of herself,” Mattie shared. “It is maddening, considering my father indulges her every whim.”

“Have you spoken to your father about this?”

Mattie turned her gaze to the stream. “There is no point since he sees nothing wrong with Emma’s behavior. ”

“But you do?”

She let out a slight huff. “She is far more concerned about her elevation in status than Franny’s grief. I even suspect she is disappointed our grandfather managed to recover from the fever.”

Winston lifted his brow. “That is awful,” he murmured.

“Emma has only been home for a few hours and I already needed a moment away from her,” Mattie said. “I can’t help but think it is my fault for the way that she turned out, considering I helped raise her after my mother died.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” Winston stated. “Every person is responsible for their own actions.”

“But I indulged her far too often when she was younger,” Mattie responded.

Winston nodded. “My mother has spent her life indulging Elodie and Melody, but they both have kind hearts. Elodie may say outlandish things, but she truly cares about others. Melody is the same, but she stops and observes before she takes her next step. Both of my sisters are very different, yet I count them as friends.”

Mattie’s smile returned. “I adore Elodie and Melody.”

“I know you do, and they, for some reason unbeknownst to me, feel the same way about you,” Winston said, softening his words with a smile.

She laughed, just as he had intended. “Gentlemen are supposed to be charming, my lord.”

“I’m afraid I missed that course at Oxford,” he joked.

Mattie’s smile faded as she asked, “What should I do about my sister?”

“You are asking me?” he inquired. “You must be desperate.”

With a shake of her head, Mattie responded, “I am at a loss as to what I should do.”

Winston thought for a moment. “Did you do the best you could, knowing what you knew then?”

“I did.”

“Then you did enough,” he said. “You must recognize that Emma is forging her own path and may not want your help.”

“And if that path is wrong?” Mattie questioned, her voice tinged with worry.

Winston gave her a knowing look. “Who says it is the wrong path for her?”

Mattie leaned over and nudged his shoulder with hers. “When did you get so wise?”

“I have always been wise, but you never stopped and listened before,” Winston teased. “I am, after all, a highly sought-after barrister.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Mattie said. The way she spoke her words sounded sincere and Winston felt his chest swell with pride. Why was it that her praise meant so much to him?

As a comfortable silence descended over them, Winston chose his next words carefully, unsure of how Mattie would respond. “I want to do more with my life than be a barrister.”

“What is wrong with being a barrister?”

“Nothing,” he replied quickly. “But the things I have seen and heard…” His words trailed off. “I don’t know how much longer I can go on as I have been.”

Mattie’s eyes held compassion. “Then you must do as your heart dictates.”

“Only a foolish man listens to his heart. A wise man uses logic when making an important decision,” Winston argued.

“All right, wise man, what does your logic tell you?” Mattie said with amusement in her voice.

“I want to become one of the largest landowners in England,” Winston replied.

Mattie bobbed her head. “That is rather ambitious.”

He felt a stab of disappointment at her words. “I know it seems impossible?—”

She interrupted him. “No, you misunderstood me,” she said. “It is ambitious, but if anyone can do it, you can. ”

“Do you mean that?”

Her face softened. “We have known each other most of our lives, and although we have spent most of it fighting, I know the type of person you are. Stubborn. Infuriating. Pig-headed.”

“Is there a point in all of that?” he asked.

She grinned. “Despite all your many flaws, you are also one of the smartest people I know. And when you set your mind to something, you can do anything.”

Winston felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “Thank you, Mattie. That means a great deal to me.”

They stared at one another for a moment, and Winston couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to lean in and kiss her. But would she welcome the kiss?

The sound of wood snapping in the distance broke the tension, reminding him of the precariousness of their situation.

Mattie looked up at the trees and let out a long, drawn-out groan. “I should be heading back,” she said. “The dressmaker is arriving soon with our mourning gowns, and then I am accompanying Emma to the village.”

Before Winston could stop himself, he said, “I will join you.”

She eyed him curiously. “We are going into the village to shop for some ribbons. I daresay that you might be bored with such an endeavor.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said. Drats. Why couldn’t he just stop speaking? But he already knew the answer. He found that he wanted to spend more time with Mattie, even if it meant going ribbon shopping.

“Very well,” Mattie responded. “To be honest, I am pleased that you will be accompanying us. Perhaps you can fix my sister.”

He chuckled. “I doubt I can do anything in such a short time.”

“One can always hope,” Mattie said lightly.

Winston rose and held his hand out to assist her in rising. Mattie slipped her gloved hand into his and stood up. He didn’t release her hand right away, and she made no attempt to remove it.

“Mattie,” he said.

“Yes?” she breathed, her eyes searching his.

What did he want from Mattie? Nothing. But all of his thoughts had disappeared, and he found himself struggling to come up with something to say.

Isaac’s mocking voice came from behind them. “Have the rules of polite Society changed since I was young?”

Winston dropped Mattie’s hand and turned to face Isaac, shielding her from his view. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I was merely out for a walk and I stumbled across you and Miss Bawden,” Isaac replied.

“Need I remind you that you are trespassing?” Winston growled.

Isaac shrugged. “I didn’t think you would mind since we are family and all,” he stated with a smirk.

Winston narrowed his eyes. “We are not family.”

Placing a hand over his heart, Isaac said, “But I am your uncle.”

“You need to go. Now!” Winston ordered.

Isaac dropped his hand to his side and took a step back. “I will leave you to it, then. Whatever it was that you were doing,” he said before he started down the path.

Winston kept his eyes on Isaac’s retreating figure until he was out of view. He turned back around to Mattie. “I am sorry about Isaac.”

“You have no reason to apologize.”

“But I do,” Winston said. “He is here because of my family.”

Mattie’s eyes flickered towards the trees where Grady was standing. “I am sure the man you assigned to watch over us will keep us safe.”

“It is the least that I can do,” Winston replied, a note of frustration in his voice. “Isaac is making a nuisance of himself.”

Mattie placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It is all right,” she said. “Now that we know about Isaac’s true intentions, we will be better prepared to deal with him.”

“I just wish I could do more,” Winston sighed, feeling discouraged. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or your family because of Isaac.”

She offered him a reassuring smile. “You are doing more than enough. We will be careful, and we can handle whatever comes our way together.”

Together.

Had she truly meant that or was it just a slip of the tongue?

Mattie withdrew her hand. “I should go.”

“Would you care for me to escort you home?” he asked, not wanting the time with Mattie to come to an end.

She smiled. “No, because then I would have to explain where our paths met, and I do not wish to share that.”

“Point taken.” Winston turned his attention towards Grady. “Keep Miss Bawden safe,” he ordered.

Grady stepped out from amongst the trees and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

Winston watched as Mattie walked down the path that would lead her home, and he found himself wondering how different their lives would have been if she had responded to his letter. The one he wrote after their kiss.

As Mattie walked towards her cottage, she noticed Emma was sitting under the covered porch. “What now?” she muttered under her breath.

Emma’s face lit up when she saw her. “Mattie, you are home,” she exclaimed. “I was thinking about something.”

Mattie closed her eyes, a sense of dread washing over her. No good ever came from her sister when she was “thinking.”

Jumping up from her seat, Emma continued, oblivious to Mattie’s apprehension. “Father told me that he doesn’t want you to have a Season this year because we are in mourning,” she said. “But that poses a problem for me.”

“It does?” she asked, wondering where this was going.

“Yes, as you know, I am almost seven and ten years old, and I was hoping to debut next Season,” Emma said. “But Father won’t let me debut with you. He says that wouldn’t be fair of me to do so.”

Mattie stepped into the cottage, with Emma following closely behind. “I fail to see what the issue is.”

“Surely you must see the problem for me,” Emma remarked. “I was hoping you would forgo your debut since you will be two and twenty years old. That way I can be presented in Court.”

Spinning around, Mattie said, “But if I did such a thing, I would be considered a spinster amongst high Society.”

Emma nodded. “Well, you will be two and twenty years old. What kind of match do you truly expect anyways?”

Mattie stared at her sister, a feeling of disbelief washing over her. Her sister wanted her to throw away her future for the sake of hers. “No,” she said firmly. “I am sorry you won’t be able to debut next year but I have earned the right to do so.”

Her sister’s face fell. “Why are you being so unreasonable about this?” she asked. “With your red hair, you hardly can expect a good match.”

“What is wrong with my red hair?” Mattie asked.

“It is hardly desirable amongst the ton ,” her sister responded. “I was most fortunate that I was spared that burden.”

Mattie reached up and smoothed back her hair. “My red hair is not a burden. It is the same color as Mother’s hair.”

“It makes you stand out, and not in a good way,” Emma declared.

Mattie pursed her lips as she tried to control the anger that was whirling inside of her. When she was younger, she had been self-conscious about her hair color, but now that she was older, she was grateful that she shared that trait with her mother.

Emma dropped down on the settee in a huff. “I do believe you would make a good match with a widower,” she said. “And to do so, you don’t need to debut. I am sure that Father could arrange such a thing for you.”

Mattie blinked, taken aback by the callous thing her sister had just said to her without a hint of remorse. “You cannot be in earnest.”

As her sister was about to respond, a knock came at the door, interrupting their conversation.

Not bothering to wait for Mrs. Watson, Mattie walked over to the door and opened it. A tall, lanky man stood there, holding black gowns in his arms.

“Miss Bawden?” the man asked.

She nodded. “That is me,” she replied.

He extended the gowns to her. “The dressmaker asked me to drop these three gowns off for you,” he revealed. “She said she would have the rest of the dresses you commissioned in a week or so.”

Mattie accepted the gowns, draping them over her arm. “Thank you,” she replied before closing the door.

A groan came from behind her. “Do I truly have to wear a black gown?” Emma protested. “It will make me look so drab.”

Turning around, Mattie responded, “Yes, you have to wear the gown. We are in mourning for our aunt and uncle.”

Emma held her hand out wide. “The things I do for my family,” she declared. “At least I can go to the village soon.”

“By the way, Lord Winston will be accompanying us,” Mattie shared, extending Emma a gown.

Her sister’s eyes grew wide. “Lord Winston?” she asked. “When did you speak to him?”

“I spoke to him briefly when I was on my walk,” Mattie responded, keeping her response vague. She didn’t want to divulge that she had been alone with Winston in the woodlands.

“Perhaps I shall go on a walk with you tomorrow,” Emma said. “I hadn’t realized Lord Winston was such an early riser.”

The thought of Emma going on a walk with her was laughable. Her sister was not one for nature, waking up early or walking, for that matter. Frankly, everything about a morning walk went against her sister’s core beliefs

Rather than respond to Emma’s ridiculous remark, Mattie suggested, “Why don’t you change before Lord Winston arrives?”

“I think I shall,” Emma said eagerly.

After Emma hurried up the stairs, Mattie followed at a much more sedate pace. She entered her sister’s bedchamber and saw Franny sitting on her bed, staring vacantly at the wall.

“Franny,” Mattie said gently, “the dressmaker dropped off our mourning gowns. Would you like me to help you change?”

Franny met her gaze and nodded. “I would like that,” she responded in a weak voice.

Mattie stepped forward and helped Franny into her gown. Once dressed, her cousin resumed her seat on the bed, looking lost in thought.

Hoping to break Franny out of her pensive mood, she shared, “We are going to the village today. Would you care to join us? ”

Franny opened her mouth to reply, but Emma interrupted. “You don’t want to go with us, do you?” she asked. “It will be boring for you.”

Mattie shot her sister a frustrated look. “Franny is welcome to come with us.”

“But the carriage will be crowded if she comes, especially since Lord Winston is accompanying us,” Emma pointed out.

“Regardless, we can make it work,” Mattie said, turning her attention back towards her cousin. “It is your decision.”

Franny offered her a weak smile. “I think I would like to stay here.”

Mattie sat on the edge of the bed. “What if we went on a walk later today?” she suggested. “There is a charming spot in the woodlands where I like to sit on a rock and listen to the stream.”

“I think I would like that,” Franny said softly.

“Wonderful,” Mattie responded.

Emma spoke up. “I will join you, as well,” she said. “You never know when you might run into a rich, eligible gentleman.”

Mattie rolled her eyes. “I assure you, we will not encounter any eligible gentlemen on our walk.”

“Then why go at all?” Emma asked.

Ignoring her sister’s question, Mattie smiled at her cousin. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Mrs. Watson brought me up a tray,” Franny replied, gesturing towards the discarded tray on the dressing table.

Mattie rose. “Well, I should change, but if you decide to accompany us to the village, you are more than welcome.”

Franny shook her head. “I won’t, but I do thank you.”

Emma, who was pulling her hair into a stylish coiffure, said, “We will bring you back some ribbons.”

“That is not necessary,” Franny responded.

“We insist,” Emma declared. “We need to keep your mind off your parents’ deaths so you will stop moping around.”

Mattie frowned. “Emma, you are being rude,” she chided.

“Am I?” Emma asked innocently. “I do not think I am. I am merely stating a fact.”

“Well, do try to keep your facts to yourself,” Mattie said, her frustration evident.

Franny adjusted the sleeves of her black gown as tears filled her eyes. “I am sorry for moping around.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mattie rushed to reassure her. “You have the right to grieve your parents as you see fit.”

Emma walked over to the dressing table, admiring her reflection in the mirror. “I do think Franny is making a big ado out of nothing. When Mother died, I hardly grieved at all.”

Mattie was growing increasingly frustrated by her sister’s insensitive remarks. Did she not hear herself speak? “That is because you were five,” she stated. “And Father and I protected you the best we could.”

“Yes, but grief is a choice, and I chose not to be sad,” Emma remarked.

Bringing a hand up to her forehead, Mattie couldn’t quite believe that she and Emma were related. They were both so different in every way. Emma was so self-absorbed that she failed to feel any empathy towards others.

In a strained voice, Mattie asked, “Could you not at least show some sympathy towards Franny?”

Emma grew thoughtful, and for the briefest of moments, Mattie thought she might have gotten through to her sister.

“I suppose I can,” Emma said as she walked over to Franny and patted her shoulder. “There. There. I’m sorry.” Her words were bland, lacking any genuine emotion. It was evident that her sister wasn’t putting in much effort.

As Mattie contemplated sending Emma away to a convent, Mrs. Watson appeared at the door. “Lord Winston and his sister, Lady Elodie, have arrived,” she announced .

Emma perked up. “Please inform them we will be right down.”

Mrs. Watson tipped her head before she left to do Emma’s bidding.

Turning back towards Mattie, her sister instructed, “You need to change, and quickly. We do not want to keep Lord Winston waiting.”

For once, Mattie and Emma were in agreement. She made quick work of changing into the black gown.

Her sister shot her a concerned look. “We still have time for you to fix your hair.”

Mattie reached up to adjust the neat chignon at the base of her neck. “What is wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing,” her sister started hesitantly, “but it is rather plain. You should try harder when in the presence of the Lockwood family. They are known for their sophistication, and your current coiffure may give the impression that you are not.”

Mattie frowned. “I think I will take my chances,” she said as she headed towards the door.

As they headed down the stairs, Emma brushed past Mattie and entered the drawing room first.

Winston and Elodie were standing in the center of the room, engaged in a conversation of their own.

Emma gracefully dropped down into a low curtsy. “Lord Winston. Lady Elodie. Welcome to our humble home,” she greeted.

Mattie couldn’t help but think that her sister could have a career in the theatre, if she so desired. She curtsied as well, addressing her friends with equal politeness. “My lord. My lady,” she said.

Elodie raised an eyebrow. “Why are you being so formal?” she asked. “Is the Prince Regent in attendance?”

Mattie laughed. “I’m sorry, Elodie.”

“That is much better,” Elodie declared before turning her attention to Emma. “Miss Emma, I hardly recognized you. It has been too long since we have last met.”

Emma’s eyes flickered to Lord Winston before settling on Elodie. “Thank you for noticing, my lady. I hope to debut soon, although the exact date is still undecided.”

Winston bowed slightly. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Emma. And thank you for allowing me to accompany you and your lovely sister to the village today.”

“No, it is our pleasure, I assure you,” Emma stated as she batted her eyelashes at him.

As Winston’s gaze fell upon Mattie, his eyes seemed to search hers, but for what, she could not say. “Miss Bawden,” he spoke in his deep baritone voice.

“Lord Winston,” she replied.

Elodie approached Mattie and looped arms with her. “The carriage is waiting out front,” she informed them. “I wanted to take the coach but Winston was insistent that we take the open carriage.”

“The open carriage allows for better views of the countryside,” Winston said.

“Yes, but there is a greater chance of swallowing a bug,” Elodie declared.

Winston chuckled. “Then I suggest keeping your mouth closed, dear sister.”

As they made their way outside, Mattie caught Winston staring at her. But instead of looking away, he winked at her. In that moment, she realized that the feelings she had tried so hard to rid herself of were still there. She cared for Winston, more so than she should.