her smile and she said, “Ten years later we were surprised by the birth of Chelsea.”
Devlin felt the old questions coming to the surface as they sometimes did when he was with his grandmother.
How could she believe a loving God would take her grandparents in a carriage accident so suddenly when they had only just begun to enjoy being a family? He wanted to ask her because somehow he thought she could explain it to him in a way his own grandmother could not. They were almost back in Berkeley Square, and somehow he knew it would be an intense conversation; perhaps it would be better saved for a later date.
She had already been speaking again during his thoughts. “… yes, you may groan at the word. I am quite the bluestocking!”
How very different she was from anyone he had ever met! All the more because she had no way of knowing that being well-read was not disparaging in his eyes. And despite her horrified whisper, he knew she really did not care whether she had horrified him or not. He could not come up with the proper rejoinder before she started again.
“But the Bible has always been my favorite book. I love the idea that man could, with God’s help, achieve the wisdom of Solomon. Indeed, that is how my horse got his name!”
He somehow felt her every nuance, that she felt pleased when he understood when she was serious and when she was teasing.
“There is not much more to tell, to be honest. The rest is a little hard for me to talk about. My father got sick when I was seventeen, and he never recovered. I treasure the last few weeks I had with him.” She kept talking, but he noticed the lone tear that ran down her cheek. “Of course Mama was devastated, and though Chelsea could not quite grasp what was happening, she knew her world was changing. It was one of the darkest periods of my life.”
Devlin was completely silent, allowing her time to get her composure. He also dimly locked away in the back of his mind her statement that it had been one of the worst events of her life. Confound it! Were there more? Had this “accident” been even harder for her? He suddenly thought he might never get to know the lovely young woman buried under the protective layers she had constructed. And it disturbed his peace of mind. He wanted to know it.
“We had to move to the dowager house, of course. It was not an easy time, but it has become the norm for us now. The new earl is not married, and enjoys Town life, so he is not much at home. He is happy to allow me and Mama to continue our attention to the estate and its tenants.” She gave a relieved smile. “May we now end this retrospective of my life once and for all?”
He laughed and hinted that, on the contrary, he had only just begun.
They had arrived back at the house, and he took her hand to help her down. They stepped into the foyer and divested their coats and hats to Geeves. “Stop, stop, I vow you are as tenacious as a hound during the hunt. I refuse to waste one more minute discussing such things.” Why did he feel there was so much she was not telling him?
“At dinner, sir, turnabout will be fair play. You shall have to tell me all about your life! My mundane existence can be of no possible further interest to you.”
But mundane would never be a word used to describe her life if he was any judge. He sensed a reserve in her; she skirted around areas he would have delved further into. He did not know why he was genuinely interested in knowing more, he only knew that he was!
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