“Did something happen?” Mattie asked.
Winston grew silent, his face shadowed by thought. Finally, he spoke. “I had a conversation with Isaac after you departed from Brockhall Manor.”
“I take it that it did not go well,” Mattie said.
He shook his head. “No, it did not,” he responded. “He threatened you, and I’m afraid my temper got the best of me. I hit him squarely in the jaw.”
Mattie smiled despite herself. “Is it unchristian of me to be pleased by that?”
“I should not have lost control, considering I was playing into Isaac’s hands,” Winston replied, his voice heavy with self-reproach.
“There is no shame in expressing one’s emotions,” Mattie said gently.
Winston frowned. “You seem to forget that I am a barrister. I am trained to mask my emotions so as not to give anything away.”
She glanced at him. “Does that apply to when you are in the courtroom or to your everyday life?”
He looked displeased by her question and turned his gaze towards the horizon. “Do you accept my apology or not?” he asked curtly.
“I do,” Mattie replied, sensing his inner turmoil. “But I feel as if you are wearing your mask with me now. Why is that?”
Winston came to a stop and dropped his hand. “Mattie… I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I do not wish to burden you with my troubles. You have your own to contend with at the moment.”
“I am not really good at this truce thing, but I think we are becoming friends,” Mattie said. “But if I am wrong, then tell me and I will walk away.”
“You aren’t wrong,” Winston admitted quietly.
“Then friends confide in one another,” Mattie said. “I may not be able to offer advice, but I would be happy to listen.”
Winston considered her for a moment before saying, “You don’t know what you are asking of me.”
Mattie took a step closer to him. “I think I do,” she replied. “I’m asking you to remove the mask for meand let me in.”
“And what if you don’t like what I have to say?” Winston asked, his words holding an edge to them.
“I am a daughter of a vicar so nothing you say will surprise me,” Mattie responded.
Winston ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident on his face. “You think you know me, but you know nothing about me,” he declared.
In a steady voice, Mattie said, “You and I have been at odds since we were young, but during that time, I have seen glimpses of who you truly are. I have always, much to my great annoyance, admired you.”
“There is no reason to admire me,” Winston stated, turning away from her.
Placing her hand out to still him, she said, “I see how you treat your sisters and mother with kindness. I see how you treat your father’s tenants—people that are far beneath you. And lastly, I have seen the way you treat my family. Me, especially. Despite our differences, you have shown me kindness.”
Winston glanced down at her hand on his sleeve and she quickly withdrew it, silently chiding herself on her brazen behavior. “You flatter me, but I am not a good man,” he said.
“I don’t believe that to be true,” Mattie insisted.
“It is true, and I cannot—I will not—let you say otherwise,” Winston argued. “You don’t know me, Mattie. I only let you see what I want you to see, what I want the world to see.”
Mattie lifted her brow, a hint of a challenge in her eyes. “You are not that good of an actor, my lord.”
Winston huffed. “Why do I bother speaking to you?” he asked. “You are an obstinate young woman who is truly unsufferable.”
“And yet, here we are, speaking nonetheless,” Mattie responded.
With pursed lips, Winston said, “Allow me to escort you home.”
