“Don’t be so quick to dismiss Lord Rushcliffe’s advances,” her mother said.
Enid felt her back go rigid. Was she so obvious with her affection that everyone knew that she held him in high regard? “I said nothing about Lord Rushcliffe.”
“You didn’t have to,” her mother said. “He is enamored with you, and I suspect you feel the same about him.”
Before she could reply, a knock came at the door.
“Enter,” she ordered.
The door opened, revealing a young maid, and she announced, “Lord Rushcliffe has come to call, my lady. Are you accepting callers?”
“I am,” Enid said. “I will be down shortly.”
After the young maid left, closing the door behind her, her mother’s lips twitched. “Speaking of the devil…” her words trailing off.
Enid rose. “You are reading too much into his visits.”
“Am I?’ her mother asked innocently. “Or are you not reading enough into his visits? He does seem to come rather frequently.”
She didn’t want to go into detail that Greydon was visiting her to update her on the investigation. Knowing her mother was still waiting for her response, she said, “I cannot speak for him as to why he comes. Perhaps he is just bored.”
“He is most assuredly not bored,” her mother contested, rising. “He comes for you, my dear. I just pray you see it before it is too late.”
Enid was done with this conversation. She didn’t want to explain how scared she was to open her heart again. She loved Greydon but the fear of the unknown terrified her. And even if she did follow her heart- which she wouldn’t do- she was not worthy of him. She would only drag his name down through the mud and that wasn’t fair to him. He deserved better.
“I shouldn’t keep Lord Rushcliffe waiting any longer,” Enid said as she walked over to the door.
“Just think on what I said,” her mother attempted.
Enid opened the door. “I will,” she lied before she stepped out of her bedchamber.
As she walked down the corridor, she knew that her mother meant well, but Enid was jaded. Life hadn’t always been kind to her, and she had been burned before. That was not something that she could just get over and move on from.
She descended the stairs and saw Greydon standing in the entry hall, his top hat in his hands.
He greeted her with a smile. “Hello, Enid,” he said.
She returned his smile. “Greydon.”
“I was hoping to speak to you privately, assuming you have no objections.”
“I have none.” She gestured towards the rear of the townhouse. “Would you care to take a stroll in the gardens?”
His smile grew, making him devilishly handsome. “I would greatly enjoy that.” He placed his top hat on and offered his arm. “May I escort you?’
Enid placed her hand on his sleeve. “Thank you, kind sir.” And right on cue, her heart started racing at his mere touch and she wondered if she would always have this reaction.
They walked to the rear of the townhouse and a footman held the door open, promptly following them out onto the veranda.
Once they started walking down one of the paths, Enid resisted the familiar urge to remove her hand and create more distance between them. But she found she didn’t want to. She wanted to be close to him.
Greydon cleared his throat. “How are you faring?”
“I am well,” she replied. “And you? Are you faring well?” She closed her eyes, knowing she sounded like a babbling idiot.
He chuckled. “I have no complaints.”
“That is good.” There. That was a simple response and didn’t drag on for too long.
