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Emmeline smiled as she stepped back. “It sounds like a fitting name to me, then.”
As the horse was being led away, Emmeline exited the stable and walked towards the manor. She entered through the servant’s entrance and saw the cook stirring something over the hearth.
Speaking over her shoulder, Mrs. Davies asked, “Did you have a nice ride, milady?”
“I did.”
“I prepared the basket that you requested for Mrs. Thompson,” Mrs. Davies informed her. “It is on the counter.”
Emmeline walked over to the basket with a white linen cloth draped over the top. “I am sure Mrs. Thompson will be pleased with our offering,” she said, “especially since I have yet to sample anything from you that hasn’t been perfection.”
Mrs. Davies turned from the hearth and wiped her hands on her white apron. “You are very kind, milady.”
“I am only speaking the truth.”
“I think it is generous of you to deliver food to Mrs. Thompson,” Mrs. Davies remarked. “She has had quite the go of it since her husband passed away a few weeks ago.”
“When Mr. Lawson asked me to deliver a basket to her, I knew it was a request I simply couldn’t refuse,” Emmeline admitted.
“We are blessed to have a vicar of such deep religious conviction,” Mrs. Davies remarked.
Emmeline picked up the basket and held it in front of her. “I should be going.”
“Would you care for a piece of bread before you leave?”
Before she could reply, Mrs. Winters walked in, her eyes flashing with relief when they landed on Emmeline. “There you are,” she said with labored breath. “Your husband has arrived and has requested to speak to you in the drawing room.”
“My husband?” Emmeline repeated back in surprise.
The housekeeper bobbed her head. “Yes, milady.”
Forcing a smile to her lips, she hoped it didn’t appear too strained. “How fortunate for me,” she said. “I shall go greet him.”
Emmeline exited the kitchen and walked up the servant’s stairs. Once she arrived on the main level, she hurried towards the mirror that hung in the entry hall. She smoothed back her blonde hair and tried to appear presentable.
Gathering her courage, she stepped into the drawing room. Her breath hitched at the mere sight of Oliver. He was standing by the window, looking out over the expansive lawn. He was dressed in a grey riding jacket, dark trousers, and black Hessian boots.
“Good morning, Husband,” she greeted, hoping her words sounded cordial enough.
Oliver turned to face her, and a smile played on his lips. “So, this is Lockhart Manor.”
“It is.”
“From what I have seen, it is lovely,” he commented.
“I agree,” she said. “Would you care for me to give you a tour?”
“I would greatly enjoy that but, first, I wanted to speak to you about something.”
Emmeline cocked her head. “What would you care to discuss?”
Oliver took a step closer to her and stopped. He looked entirely unsure of himself, which was in stark contrast to his usual demeanor. “I would like to apologize for not being there when you departed from Hawthorne House.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, not to me.”
“But I want to.”
Emmeline gave him an expectant look. “Proceed, then.”
