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Tomorrow, he would go with his father to meet Westbury’s family. They would be introduced for the first time, and then they would have to go through a regular courtship. But the outcome in the end would be the same; whether they liked each other or not, they were getting married.
Thomas didn’t see any way out of it. And he wished there was. Being unmarried sounded more enticing than being married to a snobbish woman.
He wasn’t going to get anywhere just by staring at them. Thomas had said he wouldn’t be long, going out on a walk before going back into the Eaton Socon town centre to meet his family for brunch.
He had come out a bit further than he planned, but the scenery was so nice, and Thomas just liked soaking it up. Having grown up in Kent all his life, the furthest north he had gone was to London. This was a novelty for him, even though it was in the same country.
Thomas turned and started to make his way through the trees. He would come out on the other side of the Westbury estate and then find his way back to the path down to Eaton Socon.
From what his valet Axel had said, these woods were part of the Westbury estate, but people used them to move back and forth, the boundaries partially splitting the woods. It was like the Westbury ancestors didn’t want to go around the woods and wanted to claim part of it or as much as they could get away with.
He didn’t realise that he wasn’t alone until he came upon a huge oak tree, its branches and leaves spreading high above his head. Thomas stopped and stared at it for a moment. It was absolutely gorgeous, at least two hundred years old, maybe more. The light shimmered through the trees, leaving what looked to be a green glow twinkling on the ground.
There was someone at the base of the tree. A woman, her head bent as she scribbled something in a notebook. The light glinted off her red hair, making it look like burnt copper. It was pretty stunning to look at. Thomas hovered for a moment, taking her in.
She had to be one of the townspeople having sneaked away to be on her own; with brown skin like hers, she couldn’t be anything but a regular townsperson who spent her days in the sun. A farmer’s daughter or maid, perhaps? No member of the ton would be seen dead with skin that brown.
Whoever it was, she did sketch pretty speedily, her pencil practically flying over the page. Thomas wished he could move closer to see what she was sketching.
He shifted, planning on leaving her alone, only for his foot to crunch on a twig. Immediately, the girl’s head lifted, and she looked around. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she scrambled to her feet, dropping her notebook and pencil as she backed away. Thomas held up his hands.
“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Breathing heavily, she stared at him, her cheeks turning a lovely pink. For a moment, Thomas was left staring. She was very beautiful. Astonishingly so. Even with her shock, there was a grace about her that just seemed to wrap around her. Brown eyes were wide, openly staring in his direction, her mouth open. Tall and slim, she cut a very fine figure.
If she had been a ton member, she would be turning heads the moment she entered the room. Thomas could see that happening.
Realising where his thoughts were going, he shook himself and gave her a smile.
“I apologise for interrupting you. I was just surprised to find you here.”
She didn’t immediately respond, still gawking at him. Thomas lowered his hands and gave her a slight bow.
“I’ll leave you to it, miss. I won’t bother you any further.”
“It’s fine.” Her voice was soft, almost lyrical. Thomas had never heard anything like it, especially with how smooth her tone was. “You can do what you like. While some of this land actually belongs to Viscount Westbury, the boundary line is disputed. As far as I’m concerned, this is public for everyone.”
“And he’s never caught you here?”
Her mouth twitched in a slight smile.
“I’m very good at not being noticed. It’s a habit.”
Thomas could hardly believe that. He couldn’t see someone ignoring such a beautiful woman as her. Even if she was a servant.
“I’ve not seen you around here before,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“You’re not a local, are you?”
Thomas told himself to stop staring; otherwise, he would have her running away from him, and he didn’t want that. He cleared his throat.
“I’m not. I’m from Kent.”
“Kent?” Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing all the way up here? Visiting family?”
“Sort of. We’re staying somewhere in town. On a road called The Paddock?”
