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The carriage pulled up outside the house. Hawksworth got out first, and Thomas jumped out right after. He felt a sudden urge to jump back into the carriage and run away. His father had said before that he wouldn’t use his sons as pawns, but now he was going back on his word. However, he had promised not to do it again afterwards.
Thomas wasn’t sure if he should believe it or not.
They entered the house, and the butler took their hats and coats. Just as Thomas was turning away from the servant, he caught sight of someone down the hall just disappearing out of sight. For a moment, he thought it was the girl from the woods. Did she work here? At this point, Thomas wouldn’t be surprised.
He found himself thinking about the girl and how much he had enjoyed her company. Even though it was a few minutes before they parted ways, Thomas had enjoyed their time together. She was a very intelligent person and possessed a quick wit. Thomas was surprised at how well-read she was when she started quoting Defoe and Wordsworth. If she was a servant girl, she had been given a very good education.
She also had a love of her surroundings and could tell him facts about each different tree or flower they came across. Thomas normally didn’t pay attention to things like that, but if she had talked about it all day, he wouldn’t have cared.
If only he had got her name. Thomas had been so wrapped up in listening to her talk that he had forgotten to ask for her name again. Hopefully, he would see her again, and he would be able to ask. And, if he were lucky, she was happy to associate with a viscount’s son. It wasn’t conventional if they were different social classes, but who was going to get upset about it? Thomas had found someone interesting and wanted to keep hold of it for a little longer.
“Hawksworth!”
Thomas jumped at the booming voice and turned to see a very tall man with reddish-brown hair and a ruddy face enter the foyer from a room off to the side. He was beaming widely as he strode towards Hawksworth. Thomas’ father smiled and clasped the man’s hand.
“Westbury, it’s good to see you. It feels like forever since we last saw each other.”
“And it was just last month. I know what you mean.” Westbury turned to Thomas. “And this is your son, I take it?”
“Mister Thomas Ford, Viscount Westbury.”
Hawksworth gave Thomas a look that said he needed to remember his manners and behave. Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes – he wasn’t a child, he could remember – and bowed to the older man.
“Lord Westbury. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“You certainly have grown. The last time I saw you was at my eldest daughter’s wedding … how long ago now?”
“Fourteen years ago. I was fifteen.”
“Fifteen. My, you’ve certainly grown up.” Westbury looked Thomas up and down. “You look the spitting image of your father. I’m sure you get that comment all the time.”
Thomas didn’t respond. He did have his father’s height, but he looked more like his mother. The only physical feature he did have from his father were his ears. They were the bane of his existence when he was a child; Thomas could begin to recall how many times he was teased because of his ears. They had stuck out quite a bit when he was young. As a grown man, he was comfortable with his appearance, and it didn’t bother him as much.
Hopefully, though, he wouldn’t have Aimee Burke commenting about it; he was prepared to take teasing from his friends about his appearance, but not his future potential wife. Thomas knew he couldn’t live with the comments for several years to come.
A movement out of the corner of his eye had Thomas looking around, and then he did a double-take. The girl from the woods was walking towards them, gliding serenely across the foyer and looking exceptionally lovely in a pale blue gown. Her hair was pinned up on top of her head, revealing her shapely neck.
So she worked here? But she didn’t look like a servant; she wasn’t dressed as one.
Westbury sighed in exasperation.
“Where were you, Sophia?”
“Forgive me, Father, I …”
She looked up, and then she saw him. She stopped dead, her mouth dropping open as she stared at him. For a moment, they stared at each other, Thomas wondering what was going on. Westbury had just called her Sophia. That was the youngest daughter’s name.
Wait, did that mean …?
“You really shouldn’t leave without anyone knowing where you’ve gone,” Westbury said sharply. “It’s not good manners.”
“Amelia, Aimee, and Ellen …”
“Never mind that. Go back into the drawing room. Everyone else is waiting.”
Sophia bowed her head and dropped a quick curtsy before stepping around her father. Thomas watched her disappear into the drawing room, closing the door behind her. He was still trying to understand what had just happened. Had he just spent time in the woods with Westbury’s youngest daughter? But she hadn’t been this brusque, cold individual just now. She was warm, funny, and pleasant. Quite the opposite of what he expected.
How had he not realised?
