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Chapter 29
It had been a few days since Lucy had agreed to let Silas court her. She felt happy, truly happy as she hadn’t felt since before Edward had betrayed her. She was certain of Silas, certain that he wouldn’t do the same. She just knew that the feelings they had for one another were real. She trusted him implicitly.
That day, Lucy was wearing a cream-coloured muslin with a blue Spencer jacket. She had placed a simple golden brooch on, which was in the shape of a primrose. It had been her mother’s. She put on her bonnet, which was also cream-coloured, tying the blue ribbon in a bow beneath her chin.
“Oh, Lucy!” Aunt Joan said, coming into her room. “You look like a dream.”
“Thank you, Aunt Joan,” Lucy said. “You look lovely, too.” Aunt Joan was dressed in a soft dove grey. As was her habit, her hair was pulled back, hidden entirely beneath her simple black bonnet.
“Thank you, dear.” Aunt Joan took both of Lucy’s hands in hers. “I’m proud of you. To think that you and Lord Thornbridge had feelings for each other! Which both of you kept such a secret!” She laughed, shaking her head.
“Aunt Joan,” Lucy said, feeling the need to explain. It was rare for her to keep something from her aunt. “I had no assurances that he even thought of me. I was so sure that I was never going to see him again.”
“But you did! I’m so glad that Miss Sweet invited us over that day. And I’m so glad that I was too tired to go and see the paintings.” She winked at Lucy, who smiled. She was pleased that her aunt was happy. Aunt Joan had already been making plans for the wedding, even though Silas had only alluded to it.
There was a knock on the front door, and Aunt Joan went off to answer it. Lucy glanced once more in the mirror, while she pulled on the cream-coloured leather gloves that her aunt had given her. Her cheeks were rosy and there was a joyful sparkle in her eyes which she’d never noticed before.
She could hear Silas’s voice booming in the tiny foyer of their home. When she came down the stairs, he looked at her, grinning.
“Good morning,” she murmured.
“Good morning.” He held out his hand, and she took it. He bowed over it while she curtsied to him. Aunt Joan was beaming from where she stood off to the side, her hands clasped together and held to her chest.
“Where would you like to go?” Lucy asked Silas. She was getting used to being courted again. It had been several years since the debacle with Edward, and she was certainly out of practice.
“I was wondering if you’d like to stop at the lending library,” he suggested.
“We would love to,” Lucy said, glancing at her aunt.
“Certainly!” Aunt Joan agreed. “If we could afford it, Lucy would go nearly every day.”
“Then we must go,” Silas said. The three of them left the house, stepping onto the sidewalk. “We can take the carriage, if you’d like.”
“Oh, but it’s only a short walk from here,” Lucy replied, looking up. The sun was peering out from around the clouds. It was the perfect fall day, just at the end of the warmer weather, heading into the cooler time. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to turn bright red and gold.
“Miss Wilds?” Silas asked, offering Aunt Joan his other arm.
“You two go on ahead,” Aunt Joan said, shooing them both on ahead of her. “I’ll walk a little way behind, so you two can talk.”
“Aunt Joan,” Lucy protested, but her aunt shooed them both on again, waving her arms.
“I know there’s much you’d like to discuss without me listening in.”
Silas offered Lucy his arm, and she took it. They both walked a little way ahead of her aunt. She could feel her aunt watching them from a short distance.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been well.”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you agreed to allow me to court you,” he went on. Her cheeks grew hot and she smiled. Whenever he was near, a warm feeling pooled in the bottom of her stomach. He made her feel like a better version of herself—a happier one.
“I can’t tell you how happy my aunt is,” she replied with a laugh. “She speaks of not much else.”
“Good. I’m so glad you are so often reminded of me.” He flashed her a wicked smile.
She squeezed his arm, which was hard, muscular. She liked the solidity of him. He was so real, so whole. “When not talking about you, I think of little else,” she dared to admit. Her heart was racing, and she felt as though she were floating. She couldn’t believe that he wasn’t a dream.
His blue eyes sparkled, and he looked handsome when he grinned at her. A bit of dark forelock tumbled over his eyes just so. Lucy didn’t think he could get any more attractive, only to find that the light would hit him in a different way, highlighting something she’d missed previously, like the pale freckle on his bottom lip.
