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She nodded, glancing at the freshly hung wallpaper. “It will seem strange to have others live here, but I suppose life moves on.”
“Yes indeed. Life is too short to spend focused on the past. One must look to the future. Would you not agree?”
Her gaze met his again, and again he knew that throb in his chest. Oh, how he wished she would assent, that she would see a future was still possible.
“‘Faith is believing for the future,’” she quoted Mr. Crouch’s words from earlier. “I am trying to trust God.”
“As am I,” he promised.
The golden depths in her green eyes sparkled as she nodded.
Accord wove between them, filling his heart with hope.
“I say, what are you two doing looking so solemn over here?” Musgrave demanded. “Are we going to eat, or are you going to make me starve?”
Theodosia’s glance slid to Daniel’s friend, but not before he saw the welcome glint of mischief again. “As tempting as it might be to reply with the latter, I think it only fair to see what is in these baskets. Where would you like to eat, sir?” She posed the last question to Daniel.
“Why, in the dining room, of course.”
This room, too, had altered its location and now faced a pretty rose garden previously overseen by the morning room. In fact, the only room on this floor not having its position revised was the library, its bookshelves deemed too difficult to replicate elsewhere, having been built to match the perfectly proportioned windows.
The dining room also met with smiles from the Stapleton ladies, as did the abundance of food that soon covered the table.
“One might almost imagine that we are at a picnic,” said Musgrave.
“I am glad we are indoors.” Mrs. Stapleton peered out the windows. “From the looks of those clouds, it seems we are likely to be in for another storm.”
Musgrave shivered. “I never knew such a place for its storms.”
“Have you so easily forgotten the storms we faced on the Peninsular?” Daniel asked, as he carved Mrs. Stapleton some cold chicken.
Musgrave immediately told the ladies of an incident in Portugal where they’d been forced to shelter in a small byre. “It stank of cows, and I’m sure you can imagine the mess.”
“I’d prefer not to imagine it while I’m eating.” Theodosia added a small pastry to her plate.
“Exactly so,” Daniel said. “Such conversation is scarcely civil for ladies or, in fact, anyone who wishes to eat with unimpaired appetite. Can’t you do any better, my friend?”
Musgrave shot him a considering look and turned to Theodosia. “Which of his many great exploits would you care to hear about? The man is so modest, I bet he has likely never told you the whole, has he?”
“Musgrave,” Daniel warned.
His friend ignored him, telling the story of the night when God’s prompting had seen Daniel rush into a situation that had resulted in lives saved, the enemy vanquished, and ultimately led to a fancy medal pinned to his chest and all this fuss.
“Such a brave man,” Mrs. Stapleton said, with eyes of approval.
“Most courageous,” Theodosia murmured, her gaze fusing with his.
In her eyes he saw respect and admiration, hope and regret, feelings he identified with so completely that he longed to have a private moment to share his heart. But now was not the time, not with three interested faces watching her, watching him.
The sound of Musgrave clearing his throat broke the connection, and Daniel bowed his head, his chest whirling with emotion as he prayed for God’s blessings on tomorrow’s endeavors.
Musgrave turned to Becky, seated beside him. “I do hope you are in better spirits now, Miss Mannering.”
“Thank you, sir. I suppose I cannot ever be reconciled to the idea of leaving this area.”
“You will find new scenes and people to captivate you,” Theodosia said. “You must view this as an adventure.”
“Should you like to engage in such adventures, Miss Stapleton?” Musgrave asked, with another sideways glance at Daniel.
