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Elizabeth fell asleep with those thoughts whirling in her mind.
* * *
“Will you have anything in this drawing room changed?” Stella asked Elizabeth the following afternoon as they discussed the changes she wanted to make to the Castle and drank tea.
“No, I think I will have only my bedchamber redecorated,” Elizabeth replied distractedly. She had not seen Rhys today, and she had eaten breakfast alone in the morning room after Webster had informed her that Rhys had business in Bridport and had already left.
She wished she could understand the sudden change in him. A tiny voice suggested that he might be regretting marrying her, but Elizabeth did not want to listen to it. At dinner last night, he had said, “Which brought us to where we are now, where we are supposed to be.” He would not say that if he had regrets.
“My Lady,” Webster’s voice interrupted her thoughts, which she was thankful for. “Mrs. Norton wishes to be introduced to you. She is the head of the foundling home in Cullfield. Lord Guildford requested to see her, but he has not returned.”
“Of course. Send her in, please.” She straightened in her seat, disturbing Brutus when her feet moved. He opened his eyes and whined in complaint before closing them again. Webster bowed and left, returning a short while later with a plump middle-aged woman with pink cheeks and a bright smile. Elizabeth felt herself returning her smile immediately.
“The Marchioness of Guildford,” Webster introduced to Mrs. Norton, and Mrs. Norton curtsied.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Norton,” Elizabeth said pleasantly. “Please join me for tea.” She picked up a cup from the tray and began to pour the warming brew.
“Oh, thank you, My Lady.” Mrs. Norton took a seat adjacent to Elizabeth.
“Webster told me you head a foundling home in Cullfield.” Elizabeth handed Mrs. Norton the teacup and pushed the plate of biscuits closer to her. “Will you tell me about it?”
“My late husband, bless his soul, and I founded it eight-and-ten years ago when an infant was left at our door on one of the coldest winter nights,” Mrs. Norton smiled wistfully. “We raised the child as ours, but because we took her in, we had many abandoned children being sent to us. Lord Guildford was our first and most generous benefactor.”
Elizabeth’s emotions were moved by that story, especially when Rhys was mentioned. “When did Lord Guildford become your benefactor?”
“Eight-and-ten years ago, when he inherited the title, My Lady.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted slightly in surprise. He had only been three-and-ten at the time, yet he’d had the thought to consider other orphans when he was one himself. Rhys had a heart. He concealed it from the world, but he possessed it, and she felt ashamed for judging him based on what little she knew about him.
Sipping her tea to regain her composure, she asked, “How many children are under your care now?”
“Two-and-twenty, My Lady,” Mrs. Norton replied. “The oldest is four-and-ten, and the youngest is only a month old.”
“I would love to visit them,” Elizabeth heard herself say.
Mrs. Norton beamed. “Oh, that will certainly please them. They are always happy when Lord Guildford visits, and I am sure they will be glad to meet you.” Voices came from outside the drawing room before Rhys walked in. He smiled at Elizabeth, but she did not get the chance to read his mien before he addressed Mrs. Norton.
“Shall we talk in my study?” he asked.
“Certainly, My Lord.” Mrs. Norton set her teacup down. “It was a great pleasure telling you about the foundling home, Lady Guildford, and I look forward to introducing you to the children.”
“It was my pleasure, as well, Mrs. Norton. Thank you,” Elizabeth said, noticing the questioning look Rhys gave her just then. She smiled and raised her teacup to her lips, deciding that his question would be answered later.
* * *
After Mrs. Norton’s departure, Rhys walked to the seashore to think. Something troubled him regarding Elizabeth, and he could not understand what it meant. The tenderness in his chest grew by the moment, and it frightened him.
He gazed up at the heavy clouds that had blocked the sun. A storm was coming, and it mirrored the one in his heart. He had told Mayton that he did not want a woman’s affection; that had been a lie. He longed for Elizabeth’s affection, but he did not think he would ever get it because many things stood in his path. He wanted her to stop writing while she had shown him, thus far, that she would not. He wanted her heart and also give her his, but she did not believe he had one…well, it was made of coal. He wished to protect her, but he did not know where the danger lay.
Rhys heard footsteps behind him and turned, sucking in his breath. “Elizabeth.” She was coming down the path on the rocky hill that led from the back of the Castle to the seashore.
“Webster said I might find you here,” she said, holding her shawl tightly about her shoulders, the soft wind blowing wisps of her chestnut hair about her face.
“It might rain.” He held his hand out to her.
Elizabeth glanced up. “I think it will.” She took his hand, and hers was so soft in his. “I was here with Brutus yesterday afternoon. He tried to go into the water, but the cold chased him away.”
Rhys laughed. “Of course, it will.” He drew her close. “I hope my grandmother did not give you any trouble today.”
