Winston turned to see Melody sitting on a nearby bench, stroking Matilda with gentle motions.
“Everything is fine,” Winston said, keeping his face expressionless.
But Melody didn’t seem convinced. “So it is a common occurrence for you to be muttering under your breath in the gardens?” she asked.
He should have known that Melody would see through that lie. It wasn’t even a good one. “I was just merely thinking things through,” he attempted to explain.
“Anything you’d wish to share?” Melody inquired with a playful smile. “Matilda and I are excellent listeners.”
Winston frowned, not wanting to admit his inner turmoil to anyone, let alone a goat. “I do not understand why everyone indulges that blasted animal,” he grumbled. “Matilda has no right to claim a bench as her own.”
Melody quickly covered Matilda’s ears. “Don’t let her hear you say that,” she joked.
He made his way over to his sister and asked, “May I sit?”
“I don’t know why you are asking me,” Melody teased. “This is Matilda’s bench and she is kindly allowing me to sit here.”
Winston gently moved Matilda aside before taking a seat on the bench. “I hate goats,” he mumbled.
“I know, and cats,” Melody responded. “But you do like sheep.”
“That I do,” Winston said. “Sheep are far more docile than goats, especially Matilda.”
Melody laughed. “Matilda is a special kind of goat.”
In response, Matilda let out a loud bleat, almost as if she understood the conversation they were having.
“Now what has you so troubled?” Melody inquired with genuine concern etched onto her features.
Winston turned away from her, his jaw clenched. “I do not wish to talk about it.”
Melody shrugged. “I must assume it is about our mutual redheaded friend, then.”
Winston shook his head. “Why must you assume such a thing?” he asked. “There are many things that could be troubling me at this precise moment.”
“Very well,” Melody said. “Forget I asked.”
“I will,” Winston grumbled through gritted teeth.
“Good,” Melody declared with finality.
As they sat in uncomfortable silence, Winston couldn’t help but notice the gentle breeze ruffling through his hair. He glanced back at the manor and wondered how Mattie was faring after the terrible words her father had spoken to her. Did he not see how beguiling his own daughter was?
Melody followed his gaze and suggested, “You could always go inside and speak to her.”
Winston knew precisely who Melody was speaking about, but he didn’t dare reveal that he had been thinking of Mattie this whole time. “Who?”
“You know, the tall, redheaded young woman who can beat you soundly at pall-mall,” Melody stated matter-of-factly.
“I know who Mattie is,” he muttered.
“Do you?” Melody challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I suspect she is inside the manor, which is why you are out here in the gardens with me and Matilda.”
Winston met his sister’s gaze. “I came to spend time with you.”
“Liar,” Melody retorted, her voice laced with amusement. “For someone who is such a successful barrister, I would think that you could lie better.”
“I don’t lie. I outwit my opponent,” Winston defended.
