Page 46 of Reforming Lord Neil

But he turned and made his way into the orchard instead. He would read Olivia’s note again. And Lady Inglewood’s. They both had said things about the marquess. If he thought on it enough, he might learn the man’s plan behind cutting him out of the family without warning.

Chapter Nineteen

The sun had set, and Teresa lay awake. She had rested throughout the day, and now that the rest of the world slept, she had no inclination to do so herself. The letter from her brother-in-law lay on her table, folded up after she had read through it twice. He had shared information about Neil Duncan. Information that Frederick likely thought would upset her. Yet she found herself almost relieved.

The man who had appeared on the road, wearing clothing more suited to a dinner party than a ride through the countryside, was not a mere gentleman. He was Lord Neil, son of the Marquess of Alderton. Obviously, her brother-in-law informed her, Lord Neil had lied to her to gain her trust.

Lord Neil had not lied about his family situation. Frederick had taken great delight in detailing how the marquess had made it public knowledge that his youngest son had caused “irreparable harm” to the family, and Lord Neil had therefore been cut off. After outlining the importance of the marquess, Frederick urged her to turn Lord Neil out.

Strange, but that made her more determined than ever to keep him.

Teresa rose and lit her lamp. She had half a mind to write Frederick back immediately and profess to have known all along who and what Neil Duncan was, and that she did not care. But it would likely cause her brother-in-law distress, and he may well appear at her door again. She would need to take some time to think on her response.

With her small room glowing with light, Teresa found the book of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Caroline had recited three from memory that afternoon, with Teresa following along in the book to make certain each word was correct. She turned the pages and started to read, the words soothing her as well as music once had.

How she missed music.

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,

Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,

Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,

Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;

And every humor hath his adjunct pleasure,

Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:

But these particulars are not my measure;

All these I better in one general best.

Thy love is better than high birth to me…

The words of the Bard touched her. She had none of those things in which people gloried. She put her finger beneath her favorite line and repeated it aloud, “‘Thy love is better than high birth to me’.” She sighed, and went on reading the rest of the sonnet. To have such a love, richer than any wealth and worth the cost of giving all such things up, would be a miracle. Especially for her. Given what she now knew of Lord Neil.

A small tap against her window made Teresa pause. She looked up at the glass, considering if she had imagined the sound. Then there was another tap.

She put her book down and went to the window, a bubble of excitement growing in her chest. There was only one person she could think of who would attempt to gain her attention at her window.

Of course, she ought to open her window and tell the man to leave her alone. Remind him of the appropriate boundaries they must keep to, but her brother-in-law’s attempt to turn her against Lord Neil and the poem running through her thoughts made her feel rather bold and young.

Teresa opened the window and leaned out, looking down at Lord Neil in the moonlight. He smiled up at her, the flash of his grin easily seen in the blue shadows.

“Mrs. Clapham. I saw your light,” he said, voice barely loud enough to carry to her. “May I come up and chat with you a moment?” He pointed to the ladder still against the side of the house.

Though she initially hesitated, Teresa gave him permission with a nod. “Yes, but you must be quick. It is late.”

It was not late. Not really. Especially given the fact that she was not tired, having rested the whole day.

Teresa fetched her shawl to wrap about her for modesty, then went back to the window. He had made his way up the ladder to draw even with her. Once there, he relaxed against the ladder, one arm draped through the rungs and the other at his side. Meeting in such a way, allowing him so close when she knew what others would think if someone saw, made the moment more thrilling. When was the last time she had taken such a risk?

Something of her delight must have shown on her face, because Lord Neil wore a secretive smile of his own.

“I take it you are feeling better?” he said, voice soft now that he was near.

“Yes, much better. Whatever it was that plagued me seems to have gone for now.”