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“I noticed a large rut in the road near the bridge when we returned home yesterday,” James said by way of explanation. “It ought to be fixed.”
“And who better to fix it than me?” Benedict asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
James grinned. “You must earn your keep somehow.”
He lifted his glass. “That is far easier than finding an occupation, I will grant you that.”
The smooth banter between the brothers flowed naturally and was easy to follow. When I assumed one of them had said something hurtful or gone too far, the other simply laughed louder. I would never understand them, but I did not need to.
James leaned in and lowered his voice a little. “What do you think about that ride later? There is something I wish to show you.”
I swallowed. “If you can accept that I am not very good on a horse, then I suppose it will be fine.”
He smiled, endeared. “Splendid. I am certain you are better than you lead me to believe.”
“I am not prone to false modesty.”
“Indeed. It is one of the things I admire about you.”
Lady Edith swept into the room and each of the men stood at once. Their gentlemanly behavior was a credit to their mother. She motioned for her sons to sit again. “I have already eaten. I was only looking for Felicity so we might go into Bakewell together.”
I set my napkin on the table. “I am finished.”
“We are not in a hurry, dear.”
“I truly am finished,” I said. “I only need to fetch my gloves and bonnet.”
Lady Edith fiddled with her gloves. “I will meet you in front of the house in a quarter hour, then?”
“Very good.”
She left, and I pushed back my chair and went to leave the room when it occurred to me that I did not know how I had reached the parlor because I’d been following Henry. I paused in the threshold.
“Did you forget something?” James asked.
I smiled sheepishly. “I am not quite sure how to locate my bedchamber.”
Benedict laughed loudly, pulling a chuckle from my chest, and James rose. “I will take you.”
“No, you mustn’t. You need to finish your breakfast. Direct me where to go, and I will find it.”
He looked over at Henry. “You are finished eating, Hen. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
I could certainly not use Henry as a guide all day. At some point I needed to learn my way around this house. And I was tired of feeling uncomfortable around him. “No, truly. If you tell me which way to go—”
“I do not mind,” Henry said. He followed me to the door and pointed down the corridor. “That way, first.”
I trailed behind him in silence, doing my best to memorize each corridor and staircase and room we passed through, focusing on the path and not the man. “I rather think I shall be forced to draw myself a map. I will never remember this all.”
“You will,” Henry said. “Someday.”
We stopped before my door, and I reached for the knob. “Thank you for guiding me.”
“Felicity?”
I turned, struck by his earnest gaze.
