The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘True, but in this case, I’m afraid I really have to steal you away. Your Aunt Caroline and Uncle Ben have just arrived from York. Apologies, Miss Webster, but family duty calls.’

‘Why don’t you come and meet them?’ Violet offered, but Frances shook her head.

‘Perhaps in a while. I think I’d like to walk a bit more first.’

‘Of course.’ Violet squeezed her hand. ‘Then we’ll see you soon for the dancing. I’ve asked the band to do a few sets out here, just for fun.’

Frances watched the Ambertons walk away, no doubt debating the wisdom of whether or not Violet should be allowed to dance, then turned her footsteps towards a small woodland area. It still amazed her that two brothers, twins especially, could be so completely different. The contrast between Lance and Arthur was as stark as that between the garden and the Moors beyond. One was cultivated and urbane, the other harsh and rugged. One fitted into society with apparent ease, the other didn’t. One was here now, the other... She pushed the thought from her mind. Clearly she’d read more into her friendship with Arthur than actually existed. She’d thought she could trust him for a start. She’d thought she could rely on him, too. She’d even thought that he might care for her a little. All foolishness.

She pushed on through the woodland, trailing her hands against the sides of the trees and letting herself relax away from the crowds. There were a few apple trees, she noticed, laden with such an abundance of fruit that some of the branches drooped almost to the ground. The apples themselves were large and juicy-looking, almost ready for picking. She stopped and slid her back down one of the trunks, listening to the rustle of the leaves above her head. They sounded a lot like the sea, like waves on the shore...two other things that were similar and yet different...

She closed her eyes, letting a shaft of stray sunlight warm her face. Arthur hadn’t come. She’d been so sure that he would, but now her disappointment was fading, replaced by a sleepy torpor. He hadn’t come, but she was used to rejection...and she was still there, surrounded by warmth and beauty and a feeling of peace that was lulling her into a gentle slumber. The light caress of the breeze on her cheeks felt wonderful and her nook against the tree trunk was surprisingly comfortable. She gave a wide yawn and folded her hands in her lap. Surely a brief nap wouldn’t hurt.

Chapter Fifteen

The warm glow dissipated as a shadow fell over her.

‘You’re a damnably hard woman to find!’

‘What?’ Frances opened her eyes, momentarily alarmed by the sight of a dark silhouette looming above her. Fortunately, she recognised the voice almost at once.

‘I’ve been looking for you for an hour.’ Arthur sounded half-annoyed, half-aggrieved.

‘Well, I’ve been here for...’ She frowned. How long exactly had she been there? Had she really fallen asleep? She felt slightly groggy. ‘Longer than you, anyway! I thought you weren’t coming.’

He folded his arms as if he were offended. ‘I said that I would.’

‘Eventually, you mean?’

‘I was detained.’ He unfolded his arms again. ‘By some pigs if you must know.’

‘Pigs?’

‘Yes, two whole litters of them. They chose a particularly inconvenient time to escape and cause havoc. I was just on my way out of the house.’

He ran a hand through his hair and she narrowed her eyes to take a closer look at him. He was dressed in a plain dark suit, smart enough, but showing some signs of wear, and hadn’t Violet said something about Lance taking him a new suit that morning? Besides, his story sounded too ludicrous not to be true.

‘So you’re late because you’ve been chasing pigs?’

‘Yes. Chasing, shoving and a spot of wrestling, too. Sows are heavy and piglets are slippery, little b—’ he grimaced ‘—creatures.’

‘I can imagine.’ She pressed a hand to her mouth to cover a giggle.

‘I’m glad that you find my travails amusing, but if you’ve quite finished...’ he reached a hand out ‘... I need a dri

nk. It’s thirsty work hunting pigs, not to mention women sleeping in orchards.’

‘You haven’t had a drink yet?’ She took his hand, warmed by the idea that he’d come straight to find her.

‘No, we had an agreement, didn’t we?’ He hoisted her to her feet with one quick tug. ‘I didn’t want you to think I’d gone back on it.’

‘Oh!’ She came up so quickly that she bumped straight into his chest with a thud and he caught her elbows to steady her, his gaze intent suddenly.

‘You thought that I had, didn’t you?’

‘Had what?’

‘Gone back on my word.’