“I shall never repent marrying Claude!” Hermione protested... a bit too much, Rebecca thought. “I hope you have not let Lord Benedict turn you to his way of thinking just because he is so attentive to you.”
“Of course not.” Rebecca tried to grasp her young friend’s hand but Hermione rose from her seat and backed away. “I only want you to be very sure of your feelings and Mr. Stanhope’s before you commit yourself to him for the rest of your life.”
“I am sure of two things.” Hermione edged toward the door. “Sure that Claude Stanhope is the man I want to marry and sure that you have been heeding his brother. For shame! How could you let that horrid man turn you against me?”
Before Rebecca could insist upon her innocence once more, Hermione stormed off, shutting the door hard behind her.
Rebecca rubbed her temples in an effort to ease the crushing headache her worries and regrets had spawned. She had tried not to heed Sebastian’s misgivings about the engagement, but she’d been could not deny a few of them had merit. What a cruel irony it would be if his antagonism brought about a hasty marriage the young couple might later repent. She knew he would take no pleasure in being proven right if they ended up unhappy together.
She must warn him! Once the first banns were read, there would be all manner of speculation and gossip if the wedding was postponed. Now, it would only take a quiet word with the vicar to allow Hermione and Mr. Stanhope the time they needed to become better acquainted and lay to rest any second thoughts.
Rebecca packed away her writing materials then hurried off to change clothes. Once she was properly attired to pay a call at Stanhope Court, she sought out Squire Leonard to ask for the use of one of the horses.
“Why of course, my dear.” The squire’s kind, weathered face betrayed surprise at her request. “You are welcome to take the carriage if you wish.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head. “A horse will be less trouble for everyone. Besides, I am not going far and the day is fair and calm.”
“Suit yourself then. By the by, Miss Beaton, I hope this whim of Hermione and her young man to wed so soon will not create any difficulty for you, finding a new position and so on. We shall miss you around Rose Grange after all these years.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rebecca’s throat tightened. She had always liked Hermione’s father, who kept busy with his small estate and his duties as local magistrate. He had trusted her to teach and raise his daughter and seemed pleased with the result. “I shall miss you as well. But I mean to write to Hermione often and hope to hear all the news of Avoncross.”
She dodged his question about finding a new position, because her inquiries so far had met with no success. She’d written to all her school friends. But none of them had heard of any opportunities for her. Unless she could persuade Sebastian not to push his brother into a hasty marriage, she would have very little time to find new employment.
Could that be why she was suddenly giving more credence to his doubts about Hermione and Mr. Stanhope? Rebecca asked herself as she thanked Squire Leonard for the use of the horse and headed away.
On her ride to Stanhope Court, she thought it over and satisfied herself that Hermione’s future happiness was her prime concern, not her own convenience. Yet she would miss Avoncross and the comfortable life she’d made for herself at Rose Grange. As she rode out of the village into the countryside, her gaze lingered on the green hills and hedgerows with the wistful appreciation of one who must soon leave them.
Almost before she knew it, she found herself turning off the road onto the winding, wooded lane that led up to Stanhope Court. As she rounded the first bend, she startled at the sight of Sebastian riding toward her.
He seemed equally surprised to see her. His horse whinnied and reared slightly when he reined it to an abrupt halt. .
“Miss Beaton.” The viscount swept off his hat and bent low in his saddle. “You must have divined my thoughts. I was on my way to call on you and give you... these.”
Juggling the reins and his hat, he freed one hand to extend a colorful nosegay of garden flowers. “And to offer my apology for the rude manner in which I rebuffed your kindly meant advice yesterday.”
Rebecca leaned forward to accept the flowers. It was impossible to negotiate the transfer without her gloved hand brushing against Sebastian’s. Even with the double barrier of leather between them, a sweet whisper of sensation fluttered up her arm when they made contact. Much as she would miss the Cotswolds and Rose Grange, she feared she would miss the viscount’s stimulating companionship even more.
She had fought her growing feelings for him, knowing nothing could come of them but disappointment and fruitless yearning. Yet her heart had refused to heed reason. Every time they parted company she felt a deepening void in her life. Every time they met again, a powerful rush of joy engulfed her. She knew there was no longer any sense hoping for a poor curate or a kindly widower to make her an offer of marriage. She could not wed any other man when her heart belonged to one she could never have.
“They’re beautiful, thank you.” She lifted the flowers to inhale their fresh, sweet fragrance... and to hide her eyes so Sebastian would not glimpse the ache of longing in them and guess her feelings. “But you owe me no apology. What you said was true. I have no right to lecture you or anyone else about forgiveness.”
“Perhaps not.” Simon turned his horse and urged it forward at a leisurely walk, while Rebecca’s mount fell in step. “But I know you meant well and some of what you said made an impression on me. Even if it had not, I had no call to speak to you as I did. My only defense is that anything to do with my marriage is a very sore subject with me.”
“I understand.” Pleasant as it was to ride at his side, Rebecca wished they were on foot so she might cling to his arm.
Sebastian gave a wry chuckle. “And that is the beginning of forgiveness?”
She risked a glance at him and a smile. “I believe so. You understand that I meant well, which made it easier to excuse me for meddling where I had no right.”
“Was that why you came here?” An unaccustomed glint of levity twinkled in his eyes. “So we might argue over who was more to blame?”
“Not entirely.” Rebecca recalled the reason for her visit. “I also came to warn you that your opposition to their engagement is what has put Hermione and your brother in such haste to wed.”
She repeated what Claude Stanhope had told Hermione. “I believe it is vital that they not rush into marriage. They need more time for the bond between them to ripen before they are joined for a lifetime.”
“Does this mean you and I are on the same side now?” Reining his horse to a stop in front of the house, Sebastian swiftly dismounted then came to help Rebecca down. “We make much better allies than we do opponents.”