Page 26 of To Bed the Bride
When Eleanor returned to the house, it was in time to see a carriage pulling out of the drive and heading toward the road. She sat and watched it for a minute, wondering who could have visited Hearthmere.
It was Mrs. Willett who answered the mystery.
“You’ve had a visitor, Miss Eleanor.”
“A visitor?”
“Yes, miss. He seemed surprised that you weren’t in and wished to leave you a note.”
“Did he?”
Mrs. Willett nodded. “I let him use the library for a moment.” The housekeeper approached her, holding out an envelope of her own stationery. “I’ve sent the puppy to the stable.”
“The puppy? Bruce?”
“Yes, miss,” Mrs. Willett said, her mouth pursed into a moue of irritation. “He desecrated the carpet.”
Eleanor didn’t respond to the housekeeper. When she tore open the envelope there was only a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was bold and masculine.
Bruce cried most of the night and I think he missed you. I’ve brought him back because he needs a home and I think you need him.
Let me know how he goes on and how you do as well.
Then the aggravating man left his address in London.
She looked at the housekeeper. “Did he say nothing else?”
“No, Miss Eleanor.”
At least he didn’t comment on her voice this time.
She calmly folded the letter, tucked it into her pocket, and, before she could change her mind, headed for the stable. Like it or not, Bruce was her responsibility and she couldn’t turn over the care of him to someone else. Besides, there were a number of very large cats in the stable. He might well become their target.
She would retrieve the puppy and set about duplicating the conditions she had the other night. Once he was settled, she would make sure to write Mr. McKnight and let him know exactly what she thought.
He was an idiot if he believed he could get away with making decisions that impacted her. Who did he think he was?
She stopped on the path. Why was she so intent on correcting a stranger when she was allowing Michael to do the same thing?
For the second time, Logan’s words came back to her.Reveal yourself, Eleanor. Show the world who you are. Don’t hide yourself from anyone, however much you might fear their words.
Perhaps she should begin to show the world who she was, exactly, beginning with the annoying Logan McKnight.
Chapter Eleven
Five days had passed out of her precious fortnight of freedom. Five days that slipped by too fast. Eleanor hadn’t done half of what she’d wanted to accomplish and the week was almost done.
She was out walking Bruce when Mrs. Willett approached her, an oilskin packet beneath her arm.
“The papers are here, Miss Eleanor. Where would you like me to put them?”
“The papers?”
“Yes, miss. The newspapers from Edinburgh and London.”
“I thought we’d had those discontinued after my uncle died.”
“No, Miss Eleanor. They’ve been coming every week just as they always have.”
