Page 69 of The Moonstone Major
“Not at all.” Indeed, not at all kind. Especially now that Chloe wanted this beautiful woman to disappear in a puff of smoke.
Lady Dowling cast her a warm smile. “Would you care to join us for tea?”
Us?
Had Fionn all along meant to meet the widow here?
“No, I really must get back to Westgate Hall. I only intended to stop by in the hope of finding you here and asking you about the recital. I don’t wish to intrude on you and Major Brennan. I can speak to him another time.”
Fionn frowned. “I was just about to leave. Is there not a matter you wish to discuss with me?”
“It isn’t important and can be left for another day. I really must be off. Mr. Hawke is waiting in the wagon to take me home, and I don’t wish to impose on him more than I already have.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Fionn took her by the elbow, not giving her the chance to protest as he led her out.
“What is the matter with you?” he asked the moment the tea shop door closed behind them.
“Nothing.”
“You are as jumpy as a frog hopping from lily pad to lily pad.”
“I have a headache and wish to go home.” She broke free of his gentle hold and climbed into the waiting wagon. “Enjoy your tea with Lady Dowling.”
He regarded her with the most confused expression. She could sense his gaze boring into her back on the entire ride up the high street.
She held back her tears until she returned to Westgate Hall and ran up to her bedchamber. Only then did she allow herself a good cry.
She cried so much she actually gave herself a blistering headache, and then promptly fell asleep in the hope of shaking it off.
She woke up an hour later to the sound of someone pounding at her door and then heard agitated voices. She recognized dear Melrose, who had his voice raised. “You cannot barge up here! Sir, it simply is not done!”
“Chloe,” Fionn said with a growl, giving her door another pounding. “Make yourself decent. I am giving you to the count of ten and then I am coming in.”
She had taken off her walking boots and let down her hair, but otherwise she was properly dressed. She marched to the door, threw it open, and glowered at him. “You have no right to be up here. Melrose, cart this man away.”
Fionn scowled at the butler. “Do not dare put a hand on me unless you wish to lose it.” However, he then gentled his tone. “You know I will never harm Lady Chloe.”
Chloe sighed. “It is all right, Melrose. No need to summon the footmen.”
Fionn raked a hand through his hair as he took in her appearance. “I was worried about you. Why did you run off like that? And then Melrose said you had gone straight to your room clutching your stomach.”
He really was worried about her?
“I’ll be all right,” she said, the defiance draining from her. “I’m sorry if I worried you. Melrose, escort Major Brennan to the terrace and have one of the footmen bring out a pitcher of lemonade. I’ll be down in a moment.”
Fionn hesitated, obviously concerned she might bolt her door and not come down, but then he nodded and followed Melrose downstairs.
She donned her walking boots and tied her hair back with a ribbon, since she had taken all the pins out and did not want to bother doing up her hair again. She washed her face and held a damp cloth to her eyes to blot away some of the redness in them.
What was she going to tell Fionn? That she had turned into a jealous harpy?
He was pacing on the terrace when she came out to join him, too lost in his thoughts to immediately notice her standing there. The breeze, which usually turned cooler as the sun began to set, had cooled very little. The air felt quite damp, a sign of impending rain. Chloe hoped it would arrive late in the night and be done by the time she made her way to Moonstone Cottage in the morning.
Fionn stopped pacing and turned to her. “Will you now tell me what happened?”
She decided upon the truth, since he was going to figure it out soon enough anyway. He listened without interruption while she began to explain her feelings upon seeing him with Lady Dowling and his ease when laughing with her. “There you were, seated beside this woman whose life may have not started out easy, and who would understand your deprivations better than I ever could. In that moment, I saw myself as you must see me. A pampered youngest child who understood nothing of life. I had to leave. I felt so humiliated.”
“This is my fault,” he muttered, “because of the way I’ve held you off. I only went to Mrs. Halsey’s shop thinking I might find you there because it had become your routine with the girls. I had no idea they had gone off to Falmouth. I didn’t see you and was about to leave when Lady Dowling called me over.”
