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It was not long until they arrived at the townhouse that Esther and John used during the Season, instead of having to travel to their sprawling county home in North London. A light snowfall had started to flutter, and a footman came out with an umbrella for her and Margaret.
“You don’t suppose he’ll know where I reside, do you, Margaret?” Esther asked, grimacing a little at the bereft tone in her voice. She had barely met the man, for mercies sake, and though she found him fascinating, she should not be so taken with him.
“I’d like to think he will find you, My Lady,” Margaret said while closing the umbrella. “It is not much of a secret where His Grace lives.”
Esther mounted the stairs to her quarters with Margaret a step behind her, while an ember of hope glowed in her heart. Between her bed-chamber and her quarters’ entrance was a small but functional drawing-room, with padded chairs scattered around a coffee table and her wide escritoire.
Sitting on that desk, placed in a blue china vase, was a blooming bouquet of snowdrop flowers and white roses—something that had not been there when she had left. Her throat closed over when she picked up the card that laid beside it. There was no address on it, but it hardly mattered to her.
My apologies for leaving without notice, My Lady. I was called away because of an emergency at home. Please accept this gift as my humble apology. Yours, Arthur.
Weakly, Esther tottered to a chair and stared at the card with astonishment.
“My Lady?”
Wordlessly, Esther showed her the card, and Margaret read it with delight. “I knew it. See, now, you needn’t worry.”
Cradling the card, Esther nodded, “I am not worried for myself; I just don’t know how John will take to me being drawn to a navy Captain instead of the sons of Dukes he keeps insisting that I meet.”
“You’ll just have to find a way to convince His Grace,” Margaret replied.
“I can try, but my brother is a stubborn man,” Esther said.And if he disapproves, I’ll have to find my way around him.
