Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Winston sat in the open carriage as it traveled towards the village. He gazed out at the passing countryside, feigning interest in the rolling hills and lush green fields, but his true focus was on Mattie. She seemed troubled, her usually bright eyes holding a sorrow that tugged at his heartstrings.

He wanted to say or do something that would offer her some form of comfort. But what could he possibly say to ease her pain?

Winston cleared his throat, drawing Mattie’s attention. “I have failed to ask how you are faring.” There. That was safe.

Mattie offered him a weak smile. “I am well. Thank you for asking.”

“You mentioned your cousin was struggling,” he continued. “How is she handling the passing of her parents?”

Before Mattie could answer, her sister, Miss Emma, interjected, “Franny is moping about, making everything about her.”

Winston lifted his brow, taken aback by Miss Emma’s insensitivity. “Surely she has every right to mourn their loss,” he pointed out gently.

Miss Emma blinked, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Well, yes, of course. I just meant that I don’t know how to help her. And I want to,” she rushed out. “I even suggested going on a walk later today to help ease her pain.”

Mattie turned towards her sister. “You did?”

“Yes, and Franny was receptive to the idea,” Miss Emma said. “You are welcome to join us, my lord.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Winston was many things, but he was not a fool. He could see through Miss Emma’s facade, knowing she cared more for herself than others. It was a common theme amongst women in high Society. It was one of the reasons why he avoided social events in London.

But Mattie was not like that. He could see it in her expressions, hear it in her voice, how deeply she cared about others. She was not like any young woman he had ever met. Even when they were at odds, she couldn’t hide her caring nature.

Knowing that Miss Emma was still waiting for a response, he replied, “You are most kind to invite me along, but I’m afraid I have work that I must see to this afternoon.”

Miss Emma’s disappointment was evident in the frown that appeared on her lips. “Perhaps some other time then,” she muttered.

Taking a moment to observe Miss Emma, Winston noted that he had little doubt she would stand out in the marriage mart when she debuted. With her blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion, she fit the mold of what was considered beautiful by the ton . Yet, he was more partial to red hair.

Sitting next to him in the carriage, Elodie started swatting in the air. “Good heavens, did you see that?” she asked. “A bug nearly attacked me.”

He chuckled at his sister’s exaggeration. “I did not see such a thing.”

“The bug was huge, probably the biggest I have ever seen, and it was going straight for my mouth,” his sister declared with a shiver of disgust .

“And why would it do that?” he asked.

Elodie shrugged. “Perhaps the bug had a death wish,” she retorted. “I cannot explain the thoughts of an enormous bug.”

“Or maybe it was looking for some shade from this relentless sun?” Winston teased.

“In my mouth?!” Elodie asked. “If that is the case, it is not the smartest bug and most likely won’t last much longer.”

Winston smirked. “I do not think bugs are particularly intelligent. Not like you, Sister.”

Elodie shook her head. “You may jest, but wait until you swallow a bug,” she said. “Then you will change your tune.”

“Some people consider eating bugs a delicacy,” Winston pointed out.

Miss Emma spoke up. “That is rather a disgusting thought,” she stated. “I would never eat a bug. Frankly, I would rather die first.”

Winston exchanged a glance with Mattie and he could see the amusement in her eyes. “That is a shame because our cook was going to prepare a plate full of bugs for supper tonight,” Mattie joked.

“That is hardly funny,” Miss Emma declared, her chin jutting in the air.

If Winston needed further proof that Miss Emma would fit well into high Society, her pretentious attitude confirmed it.

Elodie swatted at the air again. “Good heavens, the bugs are everywhere,” she exclaimed. “This wouldn’t have been an issue if we had taken the coach, as I suggested.”

Winston nudged her shoulder playfully. “Yes, but then we wouldn’t have been able to admire the beautiful countryside.”

“It is beautiful,” Mattie remarked as she turned her gaze back to the rolling green hills. The sound of sheep bleating could be heard in the distance, adding to the picturesque scene. “May I ask where your sheep farm is located?”

He pointed towards the horizon, a smile spreading across his face. “In the next county over,” he replied. “It isn’t too far away from Brockhall Manor by coach.”

“When do I get to see your sheep farm?” Elodie asked eagerly.

“Whenever you would like,” Winston replied. “I should note that there is a small cottage on the property, but it leaks when it rains.”

Elodie smiled. “Sounds charming.”

Winston’s chest swelled with pride. “But the land where the cottage sits and the sheep graze all belongs to me,” he shared. “I love nothing more than sitting on the porch and watching the sunrise.”

“That sounds rather perfect to me,” Mattie said wistfully, meeting his gaze.

“It is,” he replied softly.

Hearing the sound of approval in Mattie’s voice made him realize how much he longed to share that moment with her. Alone. With no one else.

Winston turned his head towards the countryside as he tried to quell his wayward thoughts. Why was he even thinking about such things? He and Mattie were just friends. Which was rather impressive, considering their tumultuous past. And he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize what they had.

As the village came into view, Miss Emma perked up. “I have not been to the village in ages,” she declared. “I do hope the shops will have an array of ribbons for me to look at.”

“You can look, but I think it would be best if you only selected dark colors,” Mattie suggested. “We are, after all, in mourning.”

Miss Emma glanced down at her black gown with disdain. “Do not remind me,” she muttered. “I look awful in black.”

“Mourning is not for our sake, but to keep the memory alive of the deceased,” Elodie remarked .

“But no one here knew my aunt and uncle,” Miss Emma protested.

“Your cousin did,” Winston pointed out.

Miss Emma pursed her lips together, clearly not pleased with this reminder. “Yes, well, there is that,” she said flatly. “And I suppose my father is grieving the loss of his brother.”

Silence descended over the group as they rolled into the village. The carriage glided to a stop in front of a shop and Winston stepped down onto the cobblestone pavement. He reached his hand back to assist the ladies out of the carriage.

As Miss Emma exited the coach, she gripped his hand tightly, flashing him a coy smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

Winston worked to keep the emotions off his face. Miss Emma was far too young and naive to understand how inappropriate her behavior was. She wasn’t even out of the schoolroom yet. Did she truly not understand how inappropriate it was for her to flirt when she was in mourning? He was beginning to see what Mattie had been dealing with all along.

But as he assisted Mattie out of the coach, her hand slipped into his and she thanked him with genuine gratitude. Her touch was gentle and demure, a stark contrast to Miss Emma’s brazen advances. And in that moment, Winston felt more drawn to Mattie than ever before. He pushed aside his thoughts and released her hand, pretending that her touch had no effect on him. Or his heart.

Botheration.

This would not do. He had been down this path before and it only led to heartache.

Elodie’s voice cut through his musings. “The cobblestone pattern is rather interesting, is it not?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Winston lifted his gaze. “My apologies. I was lost in thought.”

“About the cobblestones?” she asked. “Because, if so, your thoughts must be incredibly dull.”

He grinned. “No, I was not thinking about the cobblestone.”

“Good,” Elodie replied. “Because we do not want you getting trampled by a horse while admiring the ones in the street.”

“You are a delight, Sister,” he remarked.

Elodie beamed. “I know.”

Offering his arm, Winston asked, “May I escort you inside the shop?”

“Thank you,” Elodie replied, taking his arm. “I think I shall purchase a fan to keep the bugs away from me on the journey home.”

“You seem to be the only one bothered by bugs,” he commented.

Elodie shrugged. “Perhaps, or maybe you were too distracted by Mattie to notice them.”

Winston stiffened at the mention of Mattie’s name. “I do not know what you are referring to.”

His sister simply patted his sleeve. “It is all right, but I would refrain from staring at her too much. But that is just me. You can do as you please.”

Not liking where this conversation was headed, Winston dropped his arm and reached for the door to the shop. He held it open for Elodie and followed her inside, feeling out of place among the hats, ribbons and fans on display.

As he glanced towards the door, considering making a quick exit, Mattie caught his eyes from near the ribbons and smiled. And just like that, he decided to stay.

Winston approached her and saw that she was fingering some black ribbons. “Those are some fine-looking ribbons,” he remarked.

Mattie gave him an amused look. “Do you know much about different types of ribbons?”

“I’m afraid not, and quite frankly, I do not care,” Winston replied .

“Then I won’t bore you with the details, my lord.” Mattie lowered her voice as she turned towards him. “We shouldn’t be here. We are in mourning.”

Winston resisted the urge to reach out and offer a comforting touch. This was not the place to do so. “But you are here, and you might as well make the most of it.”

Mattie turned her attention towards her sister, who was browsing through brightly colored ribbons, despite being in mourning attire. “I do not know what to do with my sister. She is balking at mourning and has been rather insensitive towards Franny.”

“Miss Emma is young,” he attempted.

“That is no excuse for her callous actions,” Mattie sighed. “I should try to speak to my father about this.”

Winston grew thoughtful. “Do you think that will improve the situation?”

Mattie winced. “It can’t hurt to try.”

Miss Emma approached them with a bright pink ribbon in her hand. “This would be perfect for my hair,” she declared.

“Emma…” Mattie started.

Lowering the ribbon to the table, Miss Emma responded defensively, “I won’t be in mourning forever, Mattie.” She lifted her chin and walked away in a huff.

Mattie pressed her lips together before asking, “Would you like another sister?”

Winston couldn’t help but chuckle at the suggestion. “I can barely handle the two sisters that I have,” he joked.

“Pity,” Mattie murmured.

Hoping to make Mattie smile, Winston reached for a dark gray ribbon that was lying on a nearby table. He held it up and inspected it closely. “Now this,” he said with exaggerated seriousness, “is truly a magnificent piece of ribbon. It is straight and the color is superb.”

Mattie’s lips twitched. “Well, then, I simply must have it,” she declared.

“Allow me the honor of purchasing it for you, Mattie,” Winston replied with a flourish of his hand.

His efforts were rewarded when she smiled, lighting up her entire face. He would daresay that he had never seen anything so beautiful before.

With a deep breath, Mattie stood outside of her father’s study. She had been rehearsing in her head what she intended to say, knowing it would be a difficult conversation with no guarantee of how her father would react. Would he be supportive of her or take Emma’s side—just as he always did?

The door swung open, interrupting her thoughts, and her father stood there with a furrowed brow. “Mattie? Why are you standing outside of my study?” he asked.

“I needed to speak to you,” Mattie responded.

Her father took a step back and motioned for her to take a seat in one of the worn leather chairs. “Please come in,” he said. “I was planning on visiting the Wilcox family, but it can wait a few moments.”

Mattie sat rigidly in her seat, trying to calm her nerves. This was ridiculous. Why should she be nervous about speaking the truth? She would just say what needed to be said and be done with it.

“I want to speak to you about Emma,” Mattie began.

Her father frowned before he closed the door. “I expected as much,” he said, settling into his chair. “What is it that you wish to discuss?”

There were so many things she wanted to address, but she decided to start with the most pressing matter. “Emma is being rather vocal about going into mourning,” Mattie explained. “And she isn’t being very compassionate towards Franny. ”

“This does not surprise me in the least,” her father remarked. “Emma has never been as tender-hearted as you.”

Mattie sank back into her chair. “Furthermore, I caught her flirting shamelessly with Lord Winston on our outing to the village.”

Her father’s expression turned disapproving at this revelation. “I do believe that Emma is determined to grow up far too quickly.”

“What should we do?” Mattie asked, feeling at a loss.

To her dismay, her father only shrugged. “This is precisely why I did not want you to have a Season this year. You are needed at home to tend to Emma.”

“Emma doesn’t need a nursemaid,” Mattie insisted. “And I do believe she will balk at hiring a governess for her.”

“Then what can we do to help her?” her father asked.

Mattie let out a deep breath. “I was hoping you would know,” she replied. “But I do believe that we have both coddled her for far too long. She has become rather self-absorbed.”

Her father rubbed his temples wearily. “If only Emma could be more like you. You have grown into such a fine young woman.”

“Thank you,” Mattie said, brushing the compliment aside. “Emma even had the audacity to suggest that I forgo next Season in favor of her debuting.”

Dropping his hand to his side, her father responded, “She said something similar to me. I tried to talk her out of it.”

“Well, it didn’t work, because she thinks it is a solution to all of her problems,” Mattie muttered as she tried to keep the anger out of her voice. Emma had been so rude to her, and insulted her, left and right. But the worst part was that Emma had no idea—or she did not care—about the pain she inflicted on other people.

Her father turned his attention towards the open window. “What would your mother have done?” he asked, almost to himself.

“I was considering sending Emma off to a convent,” Mattie joked half-heartedly.

A soft chuckle escaped from her father’s lips. “I do not think that would solve anything.”

Mattie grew serious. “I was thinking we could move Franny into my bedchamber,” she said.

“But your room is the smallest.”

“I doubt that Emma will switch rooms with me, making it a moot point,” Mattie remarked. “But I grow tired of the jabs she makes at Franny about how she should be over her grief.”

Her father’s gaze met hers and his eyes looked tired. Defeated. “Your mother would have known how to help Emma,” he said with a wistful tone.

“Mother is not here, but you are,” Mattie stated firmly. “Emma needs a stern reminder of how to behave.”

“I have never been one to issue a stern rebuke, at least to my daughters,” her father admitted with a sigh. “But I do not share the same reservations for my congregation.”

There was a moment of strained silence as Mattie mustered up the courage to voice her next thought. “I was hoping you might reconsider Lady Dallington hosting me for a Season.”

Her father huffed. “Surely you cannot be serious?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “With everything we have discussed, you are needed more at home than ever.”

“No,” she said adamantly, shaking her head. “I do not think I can change Emma’s behavior. And I need to live my own life.”

“You will have your chance next Season,” her father asserted.

“Father…” Mattie started to protest.

Her father raised his hand, silencing her words. “I thought we had agreed that this was what was best for you. ”

Mattie’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You are wrong! This is what is best for you ,” she declared, her voice rising in frustration.

“Mattie, you are being unreasonable,” her father scolded.

“I am one and twenty years old and I want to have a Season before the ton declares me a spinster,” Mattie argued, her frustration bubbling over.

“You are hardly a spinster,” her father countered.

Mattie stood up from her seat, unable to contain her emotions any longer. “Young women are presented at Court as young as seven and ten years old. I am competing against people that are four years younger than me,” she exclaimed.

Her father leaned back in his seat and looked up at her. “There are plenty of widowers or older gentlemen that are looking for a mature young woman, such as yourself.”

Her eyes grew wide in shock. “Pardon?” How could her father have said something so insulting to her? Did he even know how hurtful it was to her?

He must have had some inkling that he had hurt her because his next words were much gentler. “Let us not argue about this,” he said calmly. “I am in no rush for you to wed, and you shouldn’t be either.”

A thought occurred to her, one that she hoped wasn’t true. “You don’t want me to get married, do you?”

Her father lifted his brow. “Of course I want you to marry, but in due time. I need your help with Emma.”

“This has always been about Emma, not me,” Mattie said sadly, the weight of realization pressing heavily on her shoulders. “Her needs—and her wants—will always come before mine.”

“Mattie…”

She walked over to the door and opened it. “You have been wrong to do so, Father,” she remarked before leaving the study, feeling both frustrated and resigned.

As she walked away, she heard her father let out a deep sigh. The sound was heavy and filled with disappointment, causing Mattie’s heart to ache. She hoped he realized how unfair of a position he had placed her in. She was not her sister’s keeper, yet she was being forced to bear the responsibility. Yes, she had helped raise Emma, but that didn’t give her father the right to cast her aside.

Mattie headed out the cottage door and found herself walking towards Brockhall Manor. Her mind was in turmoil and she found herself needing a friend more than anything right now. Someone who would sympathize with her and offer comfort.

Brockhall Manor loomed in the distance when Isaac stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. Mattie glanced over her shoulder and saw Grady a short distance away, keeping a watchful eye over her. She felt grateful for his presence, and she felt safe from Isaac.

Isaac approached her but stopped short. “Your father was wrong to treat you in such a fashion,” he said, his words gentle and understanding.

“How exactly did you overhear my conversation?” she demanded.

“If you wanted the conversation to remain private, you should have closed the window,” Isaac chided.

Mattie rolled her eyes and continued walking towards Brockhall Manor. Isaac stayed behind her but continued to follow her across the field.

“Your father does not do you justice,” Isaac said. “You are far too beautiful to be forced into a marriage with a widower.”

“That is none of your concern,” Mattie replied sharply, speaking over her shoulder. She wasn’t about to have this conversation with Isaac, especially knowing what she knew about him.

Isaac didn’t seem deterred by her dismissive remarks. “If you were my daughter, I would have shown you off to everyone. ”

“That is disturbing, and I would prefer it if you did not speak to me,” Mattie asserted.

Isaac came to a stop and shouted, “I have a proposition for you.”

“I am not interested in hearing what you have to say,” Mattie exclaimed as Brockhall Manor stood before her.

Mattie hurried towards the main door and knocked. The door was promptly opened and White greeted her. “Good afternoon, Miss Bawden,” he said, standing to the side. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” Mattie acknowledged as she stepped into the grand entry hall. “I was hoping to speak to Lady Dallington.”

That was not entirely true, but she didn’t dare admit that she actually wished to talk to Winston. It was not proper for ladies to call upon gentlemen, no matter the reason.

However, it appeared that luck was on her side. Winston’s voice echoed through the corridor as he approached her. “What a pleasant surprise,” he said with a smile.

She offered him a brief smile in return. “I am here to call upon your mother.”

Again, with a lie. But she didn’t dare tell him the truth.

He eyed her curiously. “Is something wrong?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Mattie pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back tears. “My father said some terrible things and then Isaac propositioned me…”

“ What?! ” he exclaimed, his voice filled with shock and anger. “He propositioned you?”

Realizing how her words could be misconstrued, Mattie quickly put her hand up in a calming gesture. “No, I misspoke,” she corrected herself. “Isaac said he had a proposition for me.”

“I’m not sure if that is any better,” Winston stated, his expression darkening.

“I walked away from him and I didn’t hear him out,” Mattie informed him.

Winston bobbed his head in approval. “That pleases me since no good will come out of associating with Isaac. I can promise you that.” He pursed his lips, and there was a terseness in his next words. “I do not like the fact that Isaac was able to approach you so easily. Where in the blazes was Grady when this conversation took place?”

“Grady was watching over me from a short distance away,” she explained.

“Not well enough, if you ask me,” Winston asserted. “His job is to keep you safe, not allow you to make chit-chat with the enemy.”

Mattie offered him a reassuring smile. “I was never in any true danger. Isaac was just making a nuisance of himself, and I had no doubt that Grady would have interceded if necessary.”

Her words seemed to appease Winston and his eyes filled with compassion, making Mattie feel at ease. “Now, dare I ask what terrible things your father said to you?”

In a tentative voice, Mattie revealed, “He seems to believe that if I marry, it will be to a widower or an older gentleman that wishes for a more mature woman. And it is not just my father who believes that. Emma also said something similar.”

With a disbelieving expression, Winston declared, “What utter nonsense! You are a beautiful young woman and I have no doubt you will have countless suitors vying for your hand this Season.”

“You are kind, but we both know that is unlikely,” Mattie said with a sad smile.

“Why do you think that way?”

Mattie hesitated, not wanting to admit her insecurities. But with a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak her truth. “Emma is the undeniable beauty in our family, and I have come to accept that. ”

Winston took a step closer to her, causing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “We may have been adversaries over the years, but never once did I see you as anything less than beautiful.”

She stared up at him, her heart beating faster in her chest at his close proximity. Could he truly mean what he was saying?

He reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “You are, and always have been, the most intriguing young woman in any room,” he said in a hoarse voice. “That is why I will take you as you are—a friend and a worthy opponent.”

Mattie managed to piece together the only words she could muster up. “Thank you.” At least she hoped she said those words. But he was looking at her in such a way that made her question everything.

Lady Dallington’s voice interrupted them from behind. “Mattie,” she exclaimed in a loud voice, far louder than what was necessary.

Winston took a step back and bowed. “Miss Bawden, as always, it has been a pleasure,” he said before turning and walking away.

“Shall we adjourn to the drawing room for some tea?” Lady Dallington asked.

Mattie forced a smile, her mind still reeling from Winston’s words and touch. “Tea would be lovely,” she replied. But as she followed Lady Dallington into the drawing room, all she could think about was Winston and how his touch still lingered on her skin.