Augusta must have told her about my previous attachment to Mary Anne, but there was no way she could know about my distrust of my friends for other reasons—reasons I had begun to doubt the further removed I became from my attack. I shrugged. “We are not as close as we once were, so no, our meetings no longer bother me.”
“Then . . .”
When she did not finish, I guessed at what else she had been wanting to know. “Am I truly happy that they are marrying?”
She gave a slow nod.
“Yes, I am.” I smiled, glad I could answer her question honestly, and even more glad that I could read her better.
Her eyes searched mine, and I hoped she could see I meant what I’d said. I could not help but feel flattered that she cared.
“Good. I am relieved.”
Her sincerity and concern meant more to me than she could ever know. I longed to trust someone again completely, and I hoped it would be her. Despite my mother’s worries and all the complications of our stations, I believed we could overcome them if given the chance.
Augusta came back with her two lemonades, and I put my hand briefly on Estelle’s back. “Shall we return?” It was an instinctual gesture, but Iquickly dropped my hand. Without her consent, I had no right to touch her in such a familiar way. I had to bide my time until we were both ready.
A moment later, just before we left the anteroom, Estelle paused in her step. Her gaze caught on something to the side of us. Curious, I followed her gaze with my eyes to a tall man not far from us—tall with sandy-colored hair and spectacles on the bridge of his long nose. He had his own drink of lemonade in his hand and took a sip from it.
Estelle’s forehead wrinkled as she studied with a fierce intensity.
“What is it?”
“He looks . . . he looks like someone I might have known once.”
I glanced at the man again. “Would you like me to come with you to speak to him?”
She turned her head and shook it. “Thank you, but no. He’s just a memory now.”
Her answer seemed cryptic. What sort of memory was he? And who was he? Could this be the man she had once daydreamed about? I was overcome with an insane sense of jealousy. Perhaps I was getting ahead of myself with my hope to trust each other. Would we ever tell each other all our stories? I cleared my throat. “Shall we keep walking then?”
She nodded and we moved to leave the anteroom. Another couple passed by us and Estelle stepped closer to me. Our hands brushed, sending heat up my arm. Her cheeks glowed pink, and I knew she had felt more than the simple touch.
I lifted my hand again to the small of her back. “Estelle, I—”
“Lord Camden, Miss Wilde, Miss Lewis!”
My hand jerked to my side. I would know that voice anywhere. I looked up to see Lord and Lady Timbrell arm in arm, strolling toward us.
I gave a surprised laugh that was laced with barely veiled annoyance. “It seems the entire countryside has come to the theater tonight.”
“I know,” Lady Timbrell laughed. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
I chuckled at her enthusiasm, my frustrations easing. I was overreacting and need not take it out on my favorite relatives. “It’s always wonderful to see the two of you.”
“A happy coincidence, indeed,” Augusta said. “But it does make for a crowded setting. If you do not mind, I am going to hurry this glass to Mother before I bump into someone and ruin my dress.”
Estelle moved to follow, but my aunt had other ideas and latched on to her arm. “What do you think of our small theater? It is not London, but then again, what is?”
“I like it very much,” Estelle answered.
Lord Timbrell waved his hand to interrupt. “Yes, yes, but the real question, Lord Camden, is what does your family think of this new cottage hospital?”
“Cott—” I sputtered, shaking my head in disbelief. “Who told you?”
“Mr. Gilford who sold the property is an old friend of ours. When he learned of our relation to you, he wrote us a letter with the details.”
“Cottage hospital?” Estelle’s brow furrowed and she looked at me for clarification. I hadn’t meant for anyone to find out for several more months, but word always traveled fast in the country.
