Page 24 of An Enchanting Dare

“Yes,” Sylvester said simply.

The countess let out a breath and nodded, and for a moment her eyes sparkled too brightly. He waited as she composed herself, picking up the tea cake he’d taken to allow her a moment.

“You must think me a dreadful mother, not to know something so important,” she said after a long moment of silence.

“Indeed, I do not,” Sylvester said at once. He knew something about bad parenting himself and he doubted this lady had made such mistakes. “I think Lady Aisling is a determined young woman, and far too proficient at keeping secrets.”

The countess nodded, her smile tremulous. “That she is, and I think you are very kind, and that is the reason I have spoken to you about something so private. That, and because of how Aisling acts around you. She trusts you.”

Sylvester choked on the tea cake.

“I beg your pardon,” he croaked, once he could speak again. “But Lady Aisling trusts me? She doesn’t even like me….”

Lady Trevick returned an indulgent smile. “She’s rude to you, yes, and that is how I know she trusts you. Aisling rarely speaks to anyone outside of family and close friends. She rarely gives an opinion upon any subject outside of mundane chitchat, yet with you she seems ready to take up arms and defend her point to the death. She would never do that with a man she did not trust.”

Sylvester conceded the point, having observed it himself.

“Will you help me, Mr Cootes? More to the point, will you help my daughter?”

Sylvester considered this for a moment. “My lady. You do me the greatest honour by putting your trust in me, and I would do anything in my power to help Lady Aisling, but I very much doubt she would ever confide in me. Even if she would, I will not pry her secrets from her only to hand them to you. I promise you, that if I can help her, I will, but it is her I help, not you. Anything I discover, any trust she puts in me, will remain with me and me alone.”

“You promise? Even if you can never hope to marry her? Even if you do all the hard work only for her to find happiness with another?” the countess asked, her direct question proving she was far too perceptive for comfort.

Sylvester thought he really ought to be used to the way she hit you over the head with her rather brutal honesty this far into the conversation, but the question still stung. He reminded himself sternly that he enjoyed his bachelor status, and he wasn’t ready to marry. Even if he had the funds and the position, he wouldn’t be thinking about courting the lady. Yet, there was an unpleasant wrenching sensation in his chest.

“Even then,” he replied, ignoring it. “I always keep my promises, my lady.”

Lady Trevick smiled and reached out to pat his hand. “I knew I was right about you. I confess, my husband would be furious with me if he’d known what I intended to speak to you about, but Aisling is his little girl, and he is protective. I know she is a young woman, and a formidable one at that. You’ll have your work cut out for you, Mr Cootes.”

Sylvester smiled at that, thinking it was the first time she’d been less than forthright, for that was most certainly an understatement.

Chapter 9

Dearest Eliza,

I do understand that everyone worries, and I ought not to have disappeared as I did. I would not cause my parents or you any undue concern, and I will try to behave as I ought. I’m just not very good at being a lady. In all honesty I haven’t the least idea what I am good at. I wish I did.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Kathleen de Beauvoir (adopted daughter of Inigo and Minerva de Beauvoir) to Lady Elizabeth Demarteau (daughter of their graces, Robert and Prunella Adolphus, the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin).

27th June 1841, Trevick Castle, Warwickshire.

There was to be a ride out the next morning to Kenilworth Castle and a picnic. A romantic ruin, Kenilworth’s popularity had soared because of the popular novel about it by Sir Walter Scott. Sylvester was looking forward to the outing, though he wished it were only him and Aisling and did not include the trio of giggling girls. They were sweet-natured but inclined to make sheep’s eyes at him, which made him uncomfortable. Aisling, however, had other ideas. They’d barely ridden a quarter hour before she complained the bright sunlight had given her a headache and she needed to return home. With a pained smile, she urged them to enjoy their day and promised to see them later.

“I’ll escort you,” Sylvester offered, not to be thwarted by the obvious ploy to escape his company.

“Oh, no! I wouldn’t dream of it, though you are most gallant, Mr Cootes,” she said, smiling prettily, though only he could see victory shining in her eyes. “I know the path like the back of my hand. I will be quite well.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Cootes, she has been riding this countryside since she was a small girl. She will be perfectly fine,” Harleston said with a smile, and a knowing glance that suggested he believed his sister would be safer out of his company, whether or not this was a ploy.

Aisling looked triumphant, the wretch. “There, nothing to fret about. A cup of tea in the shade will set me to rights, I assure you. Enjoy your day, Mr Cootes.”

She gave him a dazzling smile, forgetting herself for a moment before touching delicate fingers to her head as if the action had pained her. Then she turned her horse around and rode away.

Sylvester sighed, frustrated that a chance to speak privately to her had slipped away, but he had little choice but to carry on with the rest of the group. All his pleasure in the outing had disappeared with her departure, though, and he scolded himself for a fool. It wasn’t her company he needed, he reminded himself. It had just been a perfect opportunity to discover more about her, about what she was hiding, that was all. He wasn’t a besotted schoolboy, pining for the lack of her. He wasn’t doing this for the pleasure of being with her, for the delight in hearing her scold him for annoying her. He wasn’t.

They had ridden for perhaps another ten minutes when Sylvester’s horse threw a shoe.

“Well, this is turning into an ill-fated outing,” Harleston said with a sigh. “Shall I take her back for you, and you take my mount?”