Blackmoore by Julianne Donaldson
Chapter 21
“Oh! A letter from my dear friend Miss Louisa Wyndham!” Miss St.Claire’s cheerful voice brought me sharply awake. I had fallen into a brown study while sitting in the morning room with her and Sylvia after breakfast. Most of Mrs. Delafield’s guests were older, married women who took their breakfast in bed and did not come downstairs until hours after we had eaten. So only the three of us occupied the morning room, and I had quickly slipped into my own thoughts while Sylvia and Miss St.Claire chatted. Sleep had not come easily to me last night after sneaking back into my room. I lay awake and thought of Henry taking my hand, of him kneeling before me, of him declaring his love for me.
And to look at Miss St.Claire and imagine him doing those things with her, but to have them be real, sickened me.
“You remember I introduced you to her in Town,” Miss St.Claire continued. “Now that is a well-connected family. Too bad they do not have any more unmarried sons. For your sake.”
I glanced sharply at Sylvia, and she shot me a look of warning in return. Had she not told Miss St.Claire of her attachment to the elder Mr. Brandon?
“Yes, that is too bad,” Sylvia said, giving me another meaningful look.
I smiled at her, letting her know she had nothing to worry about from me. And she smiled back, tremulously, with a hint of relief.
“I shall have to read her letter to you, Sylvia. You will be most interested in what she writes about some of our acquaintances from Town.” She cast a glance at me. “Although I don’t know how interesting this correspondence would be to someone who had never been to Town ...” She folded the letter. “How rude of me, Miss Worthington, to speak in front of you about things you cannot be a part of. I am so sorry. How you must long for a Season! And I understand your mother is not likely to give you one. Well,” she smiled brightly, “never mind. We shall speak of other things while you are here.”
I stood up. “You are too kind, Miss St.Claire. Indeed, you are the epitome of thoughtfulness. But I think I will do something else and let you two have your chat.”
“Where are you going, Kitty?” Sylvia asked.
“I think I’ll explore the house again, since it is too rainy for the moors.”
Miss St.Claire frowned at the window. “It is most unsatisfactory that it has rained two of our three days here. But we shall entertain ourselves. Perhaps later we can play some charades. Or whist. Or we could organize a ball! Oh, let’s do organize a ball. It will be such fun for the other guests. We are responsible for their entertainment, you know, and I would so hate it if any of our guests were to feel bored here.”
I walked across the room, ready to be rid of Miss St.Claire’s exhausting thoughtfulness.
“If it clears up this afternoon, Miss Worthington,” Miss St.Claire called to me before I closed the door, “we should all walk to Robin Hood’s Bay.”
She was so unbelievably kind. She made it most difficult for me to dislike her. I smiled. “I would like that very much.”
But instead of exploring the house immediately, I went to the bird room. Touching the painting of Icarus, I thought again of the tower and Henry’s confession last night. I thought of the secret he had asked for; the memories that had awakened stayed with me all day. I was, for a short time, transported back in time, to three years before, to the days immediately after Henry saved me from the river.