Page 54 of To Bed the Bride
Bruce ran to him, greeting him by wiggling, then trying to chew on Logan’s shoe.
They didn’t speak even after he came and sat down beside her.
So many questions crowded into her mind, but the most important one was this:Why have you returned?She didn’t want to ask it and was almost afraid to hear his response. He might tell her that it was the last time he’d be here. There would be no more conversations between them. No more mutual interest.
She sat silent and still. When he reached over and grabbed her gloved hand she didn’t say anything. Nor did she pull free.
When Bruce began barking at the swirling leaves, they turned and looked at each other, both smiling. It was such a perfect moment that she knew she’d always remember it and the day.
They never discussed the foolishness of each of them being there after that. Neither one of them mentioned that they should follow rules prescribed by other people. Not once did Logan tell her that he was going to try to forget her. Nor did she ever tell him to stay away.
Each day was like a cherished jewel, something set aside in a box that marked it as special. A ruby, perhaps, or a diamond sparkling with light. The autumn was fading into winter but she didn’t notice the chill. The mornings were often foggy and dreary. Sometimes the afternoons were miserable with an icy drizzle. She never noted the weather at all, only the time. An hour here, an hour and a half at the most, until she was due back. Ninety minutes of freedom that she treasured.
At night she thought of things she wanted to tell him. In the morning she could barely wait until her aunt was occupied with other tasks to escape to the park. Logan came mostly in the afternoons, but sometimes in the mornings. She told herself to never anticipate him, yet she couldn’t help herself.
Most of the time they were alone. Only occasionally did a carriage come by or someone on horseback. They were far enough away from the center of the park that few people strayed there. Bruce was the only witness to their meetings.
Society would not understand the two of them being alone in such a secluded location. Ostensibly, it was to train Bruce or to reinforce the commands he’d already learned. In actuality, that only took a small amount of the time they spent together. Mostly, they talked. She told him about Hearthmere and her memories of growing up a happy child, believing that the world was a wondrous place and everything in it almost magical.
He countered with his own memories of a childhood that seemed almost as enchanted despite being an orphan.
They were Scots in an English world and there was a difference, one sometimes of language, certainly of accent and upbringing. A Scot wasn’t dour, per se, but he did look upon the world in a slightly different way than an Englishman. An Englishman was confident of his superiority, even if the attitude wasn’t warranted. A Scot was almost imbued with a sense of fatalism, knowing that he would probably be outnumbered in any battle. Knowing, too, that he might lose, but that he was going to fight as hard as he could for as long as he could. Logan was the epitome of that type of thinking. She only hoped that she would be as courageous if ever in a conflict.
She told him of Hearthmere’s extensive library and her father’s plans to create the greatest racing stable in all of Scotland, if not the world. They talked of horses and sometimes sheep, occasionally dogs, and once in a while politics.
He seemed surprised at her knowledge of Parliament.
“It’s not difficult to discover what’s going on if you read the newspaper.”
“Don’t believe everything you read there, Eleanor. They lie a great deal about politicians. Or politicians lie a great deal. Either is true.”
She studied him. “Do you lie, Logan?”
To her surprise he answered her easily. “I’m guilty of the sin of omission,” he said. “I would much rather not say something than be pushed into a lie. But I would be lying to you if I told you that I always speak the truth. There are times when I don’t. I like to think it’s because circumstances decree it.”
“Do they?”
“Yes, most of the time. When the Prime Minister asks my opinion about something and it’s either a personal question or something about which I simply don’t care, I will try to answer in a way that pleases him. I think it’s something we all do. Don’t you?”
“I don’t think I can tell you that I’ve always told the truth, and doesn’t that sound terrible?”
“I think it sounds human. I’ve never met a perfect person. If you know of one, please introduce us. It might be an interesting meeting.”
She certainly wasn’t perfect. Witness the fact that she would much rather be with Logan in the park with her dog than at any society gathering.
At those dinners, balls, or other functions, she was not, thankfully, required to say much, merely respond with a smile or one or two words. Michael seemed to approve of her silence, as did her aunt and Hamilton. Once again she was Eleanor the meek, Eleanor the unassuming. Eleanor, who was always just a shadow, a quiet little mouse of a woman.
Only with Logan was she herself.
For two weeks he met her each day, even on Sundays when the rest of the family was at home. It was commonplace for her to take Bruce to the park, however, so no one remarked when she continued to do so. Her aunt even commended her for ensuring that the puppy wasn’t a bother.
Bruce wasn’t allowed outside of Eleanor’s room unless she was with him. He’d gotten used to his lead and obeyed all his commands. Even Hamilton was impressed. One morning when he’d come across them as they were leaving for the park, he’d even petted Bruce and complimented her on his behavior.
Her visits to the park made the rest of her days brighter.
Logan sometimes left before she did, returning to his carriage parked down the road. She always felt a surge of disappointment when she watched him walk away, wondering if one day he would change his mind and stop coming.
She didn’t know what she would do then.
