Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Winston sat in the library, staring at the fire, a drink long forgotten in his hand. The warmth of the flames danced on his face, but his thoughts were far away. He found that he didn’t want to forget his afternoon with Mattie. He had been vulnerable with her, more so than he had ever before been with anyone, and he didn’t regret it. Those were the memories he wanted to hold on to.

When he had shared his story about Johnny and his mother, Clara, he had expected judgment. But there was none from her. She had listened and accepted him for who he was, making him feel less alone. The weight of his burdens felt lighter, as if he wasn’t entirely to blame for their deaths.

But now he faced a greater problem. Revealing so much of himself to Mattie made him confront things that he had long since buried. He loved her. That blasted kiss had changed everything between them. He was content abhorring her, but once his lips met hers, he saw a future with her.

Even when he hated her, a part of him had always loved her.

Botheration.

What was he to do? What could he do? He had to continue playing the part and hope no one could see how he truly felt about Mattie.

Melody entered the room, holding a paper in her hand. She looked at him curiously. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said.

She glanced down at his nearly full glass. “I see that you heeded my stern reprimand this morning.”

Winston leaned forward and placed his glass down. “I do listen to you… on occasion,” he said, softening his words with a smile.

“That is good,” Melody responded, sitting across from him.

Winston smirked. “You should know that my valet is rather afraid of you.”

Melody looked baffled. “Why?”

“I do not know, but he said you could be ‘frightening’ at times,” Winston said. “Those are his words, not mine.”

“Then I shall have to strive to appear less frightening,” Melody remarked. “How did it go when you called on Mattie? Did she forgive you?”

“She did,” Winston confirmed. But she had done far more than forgive him. She had made him feel understood.

Melody bobbed her head in approval. “I am pleased that you two are getting on rather nicely.”

“I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

“How can I not?” Melody asked.

Now he needed a drink.

Winston leaned forward and picked up his glass. As he brought it to his lips, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Mattie.

“You are smiling,” Melody pointed out.

He wiped it away quickly.

Melody gave him a knowing look. “I suspect I know who brought that smile to your face. Could it be that you have finally come to recognize that love and hate are separated by a fine line?”

And now he needed another sip of his drink.

“You can say nothing, but your silence just confirms what I already know to be true,” Melody said.

Knowing that he needed to change topics, Winston glanced down at Melody’s hands and saw that she had ink on her fingertips. “Who did you write?”

“My friend, Josephine,” Melody replied.

“You write to her quite often,” Winston said.

Melody nodded. “I do.”

He lifted his brow. “Dare I ask what you find to write about?”

“We always find a wide array of things to write about,” Melody responded, her face lighting up. “It is rather enjoyable to send letters and receive them in return.”

Winston returned the glass to the table. “How is your Russian coming along?”

“It is good,” Melody responded.

The long clock in the corner chimed, alerting them to the time. “It is late. We should retire to bed,” he said as he stood up.

Melody didn’t make an effort to rise. “I think I shall stay here and work on my letter to Josephine.”

The way Melody said Josephine’s name made Winston pause. He had a hunch, but he hoped he was wrong. There was only one way to find out. “Does Mother know Josephine is actually a gentleman?”

Melody’s eyes went wide. “How did you know?”

“I suspected it only because your face lit up when you spoke about what you wrote about,” Winston explained.

“Are you going to tell Mother?” Melody asked.

Winston returned to his seat, regarding his sister with the sternest expression he could muster up. “It depends,” he began. “Do you have an understanding with this gentleman?”

Melody hesitated, her eyes shifting away. “We have an arrangement of sorts.”

“What does that mean?” Winston pressed.

“We exchange letters only because we value one another’s friendship,” Melody replied, her tone measured. “I assure you that there is nothing romantic in nature.”

Winston frowned. “Your reputation is at risk if anyone discovers the truth. After all, a woman should only write to a gentleman once they are betrothed.”

Melody looked amused. “You are lecturing me on propriety now?”

“Will you at least tell me the name of the man you are writing?”

The amusement slipped from Melody’s face, replaced by a solemn expression. “I trust that you will keep this between us, for now.”

“I give you my word.”

Appearing satisfied with his response, she replied, “It is Lord Emberly.”

Winston was well acquainted with Lord Emberly, having spent time with him at Eton. He considered him to be an honorable person, but that didn’t mean he liked knowing his sister was exchanging letters with no formal understanding between them.

“I would proceed very cautiously,” he advised. “I would hate for you to be trapped in a marriage that neither of you want.”

Melody huffed, a touch of indignation in her voice. “I would never marry Lord Emberly. Just that mere thought of a union between us is ludicrous.”

“Yet you write to him, constantly,” Winston pointed out.

She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, but it is purely innocent.”

“Are you sure that Lord Emberly feels the same?”

“Quite sure,” Melody responded quickly. Too quickly. What was his sister up to? His sister always followed the rules, almost to a fault. So why was she risking her reputation to write to a man that she claimed she would never marry?

Melody smiled, no doubt in an attempt to reassure him. “You can stop worrying, Brother. I know what I am doing.”

“How do you know I was worrying?”

“Because I know you,” she simply replied. “Do you intend to call upon Mattie tomorrow?”

Winston knew what Melody was truly asking but wasn’t saying. “I am, but only so I can speak to Lord Wythburn about the upcoming Season.”

“If that is the only reason…” Melody’s voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

He let out a sigh. “Just as you and Lord Emberly do not have an understanding, neither do Mattie and I.”

“Yes, but you and Mattie belong with one another,” Melody pressed, her voice filled with conviction.

Winston was done with this ridiculous conversation. It was late, and he wanted to retire to bed. Perhaps if he slept long enough, he would forget that he desperately loved Mattie. But he doubted that.

“Goodnight, Melody,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, hoping to escape the turmoil in his heart, if only for a few hours.

After he departed from the library, Winston headed towards his bedchamber but remembered he had left the ledger for his sheep farm in the study. He decided to retrieve it before retiring for the night. Changing course, he descended the stairs.

As he approached the study door, he noticed a shadow moving from under the door. Was his father up at this late hour?

Winston slowly opened the door and was taken aback to find Isaac rummaging through the drawers of his father’s desk. A lone candle flickered on the desk, casting eerie shadows on Isaac’s face.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Winston shouted, his voice echoing through the corridor.

Isaac looked up from the desk, unfazed. “I would think it was clearly obvious,” he said. “I came to find what is rightfully mine.”

Winston turned and shouted, “White! Get in here now!”

Isaac slammed the drawers shut. “Just tell me where Sarah is and this will all be over,” he growled. “I hate this godforsaken village. I want to go home.”

“No one is stopping you,” Winston said.

“I won’t go home without my wife and son,” Isaac responded.

White appeared beside him. “Yes, my lord?”

“Send for the constable,” Winston ordered. “It would appear that I have caught a thief.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “I’m the thief?” he asked incredulously. “You are the one who stole my wife and son from me.”

White tipped his head and went to do his bidding, but not before Winston noticed two footmen had come to stand behind him.

“We stole nothing,” Winston said. “It is merely your fault that you misplaced your wife and son.”

Isaac walked over to the open window. “This isn’t over, my lord,” he mocked.

“I think it is, considering stealing is a serious offense,” Winston said, his tone unyielding.

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Isaac responded, “I stole nothing.”

“The constable might think differently,” Winston remarked. “There is no place for you to hide now.”

Isaac grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You underestimate me, and that is going to be your undoing. ”

“I truly doubt that,” Winston said. “Your words are just the words of a desperate man.”

His grin dimmed but didn’t disappear entirely. “I will show you desperate.” With that, he leapt out the window.

Winston hurried over to the window and saw Isaac’s retreating figure, his boots slapping against the wet lawn.

A footman spoke up from behind. “Shall we go after him, my lord?”

“There is no need,” Winston replied. “We know where he is residing. I will direct the constable to his cottage.”

Melody stepped into the study, her face etched with concern. “I heard shouting. Is everything all right?”

Winston turned to face his sister. “Isaac was here, searching through Father’s desk. No doubt he was trying to learn of Aunt Sarah’s location.”

“Was he successful?”

“No, considering we don’t know where Aunt Sarah even is,” Winston replied, approaching his sister. “But White is sending for the constable. I will ensure Isaac pays for breaking into our home.”

Melody glanced at the open window, her unease palpable. “I do not like knowing that Isaac was here. I do believe I will sleep with a pistol under my pillow for the time being.”

“That hardly seems safe,” Winston remarked, frowning at the thought.

“Perhaps not, but it would greatly ease my mind,” Melody said.

Winston placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “I will keep you safe,” he promised.

Something flickered in Melody’s eyes—determination, perhaps, or maybe a flash of anger. It was hard for Winston to decipher.

Melody took a step back and Winston’s arms dropped to his sides. “It is late, and I think it is best if we both retire to bed,” she said.

Winston knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not now. “I will remain here until the constable arrives.”

“All right,” Melody responded. “Goodnight, Brother.”

After his sister left the room, Winston went to retrieve the sheep farm ledger from the desk and tucked it under his arm. It was going to be a long night.

Mattie exited the coach and approached Brockhall Manor with a bubbling sense of excitement. The early morning sun cast a golden hue over the grand estate, making it look even more magnificent than usual. She hoped it wasn’t too early to call, but she could barely contain her eagerness. She had wonderful news to share.

The door opened and White greeted her with his usual stoic expression. “Good morning, Miss Bawden,” he said, standing to the side to grant her entry. “Do come in.”

Mattie stepped into the entry hall, her eyes wide with admiration for the sheer elegance that surrounded her. The opulence of Brockhall Manor mirrored the grandeur of Darlington Abbey, where she would soon be spending much of her time. Her grandfather had spared no expense in renovating the estate after inheriting his title. And now, as a viscount’s daughter, she felt the weight of her new responsibilities. She was determined to rise to the challenge.

A movement caught her eyes, and she turned her attention towards Winston descending the grand staircase. She took a moment to admire him, acknowledging that she would never meet another man more dashing than him. In her imagination, whenever she read books, the hero always looked like Winston—a tall, dark and handsome man who used his cleverness to solve problems.

Winston’s eyes landed on her, and he smiled, causing her breath to hitch. “Good morning,” he greeted, approaching her. “What a pleasant surprise to see you at such an early hour.”

“I hope it is not too early,” she said, her excitement barely contained. “I have the most wonderful news to share.”

His eyes seemed to twinkle with merriment. “Then you must share it with me at once,” he said.

Mattie could barely contain herself as she shared, “My father agreed to let your mother host me for the upcoming Season.”

His smile broadened, spilling into his eyes. “That is wonderful news! How did you convince him to do so?”

With a slight shrug, Mattie said, “I am very convincing when I want to be.”

“That you are, considering I have seen it firsthand,” Winston responded.

Mattie clasped her hands together. “I suppose I have my sister to thank. She was insistent about having a Season next year and my father suggested we both debut together.”

“That would have been a terrible idea.”

“I thought so as well, so I pushed back, and he relented,” Mattie said. “Although, truth be told, my father did say some hurtful things to me.”

Winston’s smile faded. “What did he say?”

Mattie pressed her lips together, wondering why she had brought this up with Winston. “He doesn’t think I am capable of making as good of a match as Emma.”

“Whyever not?”

She sighed. “Emma is precisely what the ton deems as beautiful, and I?—”

Winston took a step closer to her. “You are beautiful, Mattie,” he said. “And I will not have you think otherwise.”

“Even my father believes I pale in comparison to Emma,” Mattie stated, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice.

Reaching for her hand, Winston said, “Beauty is not just about having a pretty face. It requires intelligence, kindness, loyalty and, most importantly, a beautiful soul. And you, my dear, are in possession of all those things.”

Mattie glanced down at their joined hands. “Do you truly mean it?”

“I do, and I cannot stand by and let you talk bad about yourself,” Winston replied. “Not when I can see the real you.”

“I see the real you, as well,” Mattie admitted. “Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

Winston’s eyes crinkled around the edges with a warm smile. “I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to hide from you for too long.”

Lady Dallington’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Mattie, what a wonderful surprise,” she said loudly.

Winston quickly slipped his hand out of hers and took a step back. She hadn’t realized how close she was to him until that moment.

Coming to a stop in front of Mattie, Lady Dallington said, “I was just about to break my fast. Would you care to join us for breakfast?”

“I do not wish to be a bother,” Mattie attempted.

“Nonsense!” Lady Dallington exclaimed. “You are more than welcome, and I am sure Winston feels the same.”

Winston cleared his throat. “She is more than welcome to join us, but be wary of Elodie when she is buttering her bread.”

Mattie gave him an odd look. “Why?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“That is when Elodie has a knife, and she is not afraid to wield it,” Winston said with a wink.

“Come along, Child,” Lady Dallington encouraged.

As Mattie walked with Lady Dallington, she noticed Winston trailed closely behind. “I just came to tell you the most wonderful news.”

“Which is?” Lady Dallington asked .

Mattie beamed. “My father has granted permission for you to host me this Season.”

Lady Dallington returned her smile. “What wonderful news!” she exclaimed. “We have so much that we must do to prepare.”

They entered the dining room and Winston pulled out a chair for Mattie. Once she was situated, she murmured her thanks, secretly pleased when Winston sat down next to her.

“I shall need to create a list of everything we must do in anticipation of this upcoming Season,” Lady Dallington declared. “We must get you a whole new wardrobe, accessories…” She paused thoughtfully. “How are you on dancing?”

Mattie winced slightly. “I dance well enough.”

“That will not do,” Lady Dallington said firmly. “We shall need to get you lessons with the dancing master. Dancing in the countryside is much different than dancing in Town. Winston can help with that.”

“I am but your humble servant, Mother,” Winston replied with a hint of amusement.

Lady Dallington leaned to the side as a footman placed a plate of food in front of her. “I could use less sarcasm from you. But, if you have no objections, you shall be Mattie’s dance partner when the dancing master arrives.”

“I would be happy to,” Winston responded.

Mattie snuck a glance at Winston, surprised by how easily he agreed to such a thing. He almost seemed pleased by the prospect of dancing with her.

A footman placed a plate in front of Mattie and she reached for her fork and knife, realizing she hadn’t eaten breakfast in her rush to share her news.

Elodie stepped into the dining room and smiled. “Good morning, Mattie,” she said.

“Good morning,” Mattie responded, smiling back.

Coming to sit across from her at the table, Elodie gave her a questioning look. “Not that I am complaining, but I am curious as to what brings you by at such an early hour.”

Mattie put her fork and knife down, eager to share her news. “I came to inform Lady Dallington that I will be joining you for this Season.”

Elodie bobbed her head in approval, her eyes sparkling. “That is wonderful news,” she exclaimed. “Just think of all the gentlemen that will be vying for your attention.”

“I doubt that,” Mattie said, glancing at Winston. She noticed that his jaw was clenched.

Reaching for her teacup, Elodie continued, “Oh yes, it will be such fun to see gentlemen falling over themselves to make a good impression on you.”

Mattie hadn’t considered that. But she should have. The point of having a Season was to find a match. “You flatter me, Elodie, but I do not know…”

Elodie spoke over her. “Do not worry. Winston will be with us to ensure only the gentlemen with the most noble intentions will dance with us.” She turned her attention towards her brother. “Isn’t that right, Winston?”

A muscle pulsated just below Winston’s ear and Mattie wondered what she had said—or done—that could have upset him.

“Yes, I will remain by your sides,” Winston said through clenched teeth.

Elodie looked satisfied by his response. “We are going to have such fun this Season. We will go on carriage rides, visit the Royal Menagerie and eat ices from Gunter’s.”

Melody entered the room and Elodie immediately announced, “Mattie is here because her father has agreed to let her have a Season.”

“Thank you for that, Elodie,” Lady Dallington interjected with a hint of reproach. “But it was not your news to share.”

Mattie laughed. “I do not mind, my lady.”

Elodie picked up a knife and carefully began buttering her toast, ensuring the butter reached all corners. “Having Mattie there will make the Season that much more exciting,” she said, glancing at her brother. “Isn’t that right, Winston?”

Winston frowned, clearly annoyed. “Why do you insist on injecting me into this conversation?”

“I was hoping to get your opinion on it,” Elodie said, placing the knife down and taking a bite of her toast.

“I have no doubt that Mattie will have an enjoyable Season,” Winston said, his words flat and emotionless.

Mattie couldn’t help but wonder what had come over Winston. They had had a pleasant conversation in the entry hall, just a few moments ago. Now, he seemed distant, almost as if he were anxious to be away from her.

Melody, who had taken a seat next to her sister, haphazardly plopped some butter onto her toast and took a large bite.

Elodie scrunched up her nose. “Why do you insist on eating toast that way?”

“What way?” Melody asked, feigning innocence.

“The butter should be spread evenly throughout so every bite is just as scrumptious as the last,” Elodie said with a touch of exasperation.

Melody grinned mischievously, making Mattie think that she was doing it on purpose to goad her sister. “I am satisfied with my bite of toast.”

Turning her attention towards Mattie, Elodie asked, “How do you butter your toast?”

“I have never given it much thought before,” Mattie admitted.

Winston chuckled, breaking his aloof demeanor. “Leave Mattie alone,” he encouraged. “I am sure the way she butters her toast is perfectly acceptable.”

Elodie looked disappointed. “I am surrounded by savages,” she said, her voice light and teasing.

Leaning forward, Winston reached over and took a piece of toast off Elodie’s plate. “Allow me to see if your way is better,” he said before taking an exaggerated bite. “It is… sufficient. But I have had better toast.”

Picking up her knife, Elodie held it up. “Give me back my toast or face the consequences, Brother.”

Lady Dallington sighed deeply. “Do you two have to do this now?” she asked. “We have a guest.”

“Mattie isn’t truly a guest,” Melody said with a smile. “She is like family.”

“Yes, but she is probably not used to people stabbing one another with knives during the course of a meal,” Lady Dallington pointed out.

Winston returned the toast to Elodie’s plate. “You are welcome.”

“For what?” Elodie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I confirmed that your bread was not poisonous,” he said with a mock serious expression. “You may now eat it without worry.”

Elodie rolled her eyes dramatically. “It is no surprise that you are not married.”

“Elodie!” Lady Dallington chided. “Be nice to your brother.”

“Yes, Mother,” Elodie muttered, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

Shifting her gaze towards Mattie, Lady Dallington said, “I am sorry you had to witness that. They are normally on better behavior when we have guests.”

“I find it rather amusing,” Mattie admitted, her smile genuine. The banter and warmth of the Lockwood family was refreshing, and she felt a sense of belonging that she cherished deeply.

Lady Dallington tipped her head towards Mattie’s plate. “Eat up, Child,” she said. “We have loads to do this morning.”