“And… frankly, I think I thought I had rather shocked you on our first meeting,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I speak my mind more often than I should, I know.”
“I think that if more people spoke their minds, the world would be a better place.”
She chuckled. “I know a great many stalwarts of Society who would disagree.”
“They can disagree all they like. The world is changing.”
She shot another glance up at him. “Indeed it is.”
They walked on in silence for a few more minutes. It was a comfortable silence, not the awkward absence of conversation, and William felt himself relaxing more and more. They passed a few people from their party, clustered together in a group of six, all of them laughing and talking. William realized that without planning it, they were heading towards the tea-house.
He wasn’t sure he was pleased about this. Once they reached it, he would feel obliged to go in and meet the others, then their private conversation would end.
“How does your sister fare, if I may inquire? I was disappointed to hear that she wouldn’t be joining us.”
Miss Brookford sighed. “Gillian is simply fatigued, that is all. She requires a period of repose, yet Mama does not permit her to rest until it is far too late, and by then, she is too wearied to undertake any task. I was going to stay with her, but Mama and Gillian insisted that I come out. Truly, siblings cause the most anxiety out of anything else in the world.”
He laughed aloud at that and then blinked, surprised at himself.
“I have to agree,” he said at last, aware that Miss Brookford was eyeing him with a smile. “My own siblings are a constant cause of stress. Thank heavens they are all married. Of course, Alexander was always Mother’s favourite. I suppose I was Father’s favourite, although I’m not sure that is much of a compliment.”
He bit his lip, glancing away.
Too much, William,he scolded himself.You shouldn’t have said that.
A quick glance at Miss Brookford showed that she was staring down at the ground, brow furrowed.
“I know what you mean,” she said suddenly, giving a loose shrug. “I worry a great deal about Gillian. Is it selfish, do you suppose, to worry about myself, too? After all, what will I do when she’s gone?”
“I believe it’s perfectly natural. At least with only the two of you, your parents would not play favourites.”
She gave a bark of laughter, and William realized that he had mis-stepped.
“I wish that were true. I love my family, honestly, I do, but it’s clear that Gillian is Mama’s favourite, at the very least. She does not hide that. Oh, it isn’t that she’s unkind or cruel, but… well, Gillian is the sweet, pretty one, the one who wants to marry and start a family, and it seems that our hopes all hang upon her.”
“You do yourself a disservice, Miss Brookford.”
She drew in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and a sort of mask seemed to come down over her face. William only realized just how open and vulnerable her expression had truly been when it disappeared.
“On the contrary. I am not looking for compliments, your Grace. I am only being honest. I think that honesty is a rather fine quality, don’t you think?”
“It is.”
“I strive to show it in my life. Unfortunately, it seems that honesty isn’t valued in ladies – at least, nottruehonesty.”
“I’m inclined to agree. My sister, Katherine, has always been rather forthright, and often criticised for it.”
“She’s remarkably kind, I must say. She has taken pains to make my sister and me welcome,” Miss Brookford breathed in deeply, gaze fixed straight ahead.
William found his own gaze glued to her profile. His heart thudded in his chest.
I don’t want to talk about Katherine, or Miss Gillian, or our parents. I want to talk aboutyou.
“Do you have much family beyond your siblings?” Miss Brookford asked abruptly, flashing him a tired smile. It was a fairly ordinary question, one edging more towards Polite Conversation territory, as opposed to their too-frank discussion of before.
“We have some family on our father’s side,” William managed at last. “Cousins, aunts, uncles, and so on. We… we were never close to them. My father, it seems, rather cut off any kind of communication with his family. I often wonder if they saw something cruel in him and distanced themselves accordingly. Of course, we had no such opportunity.”
She glanced sharply at him. It occurred to William, not for the first time, that he should not speak so freely about his father’s cruelty. It should be ignored, swept under the rug and tactfully forgotten about.
