Page 14 of A Lady's Beloved Novelist
He could not help but wonder if they would one day be saying the same about him. As though having James on their land was something to be proud of and to celebrate. He considered if they would be talking about the Marquess of Blandford, or Dean Morris, decorated adventure novelist.
“Well, I suppose that is certainly a name to live up to.” James chuckled.
“I am sure you will have no concern with that when you inherit the duchy,” Lady Celeste said. James could see the outrage on Andrea’s face that her mother was so blatantly talking about his title.
“Yes, it is going to be a lot to adjust to I am sure, not to mention the land. My parents’ estate is much like your own, and I just cannot imagine having so much to my name.”
“I am sure it will come much more naturally than you think, Lord Churchill.”Andrea’s mother smiled at him.
“But your travels,” Andrea said whilst clearing her throat. He could tell she had been trying to make the transition back to what they were talking about sound rather natural, but James knew better. Andrea had been quiet for some time, and he could only guess that she had been trying to find a way to ask him more questions about his past.“You will be forsaking so much for just some land?”
Her mother was chuckling at her question, and James faltered in responding.
“Darling, that is part of the job when you become a member of the English Gentry,” Lady Celeste said in a rather plain tone that caught James off guard.
James watched that light of hope fizzle out of Andrea’s eyes. She was so clearly upset by it, but her mother did not seem to notice.
“Yes, I am rather sad to be saying goodbye to that part of my life. Though I would most definitely be hoping to travel when I am older if my health allows,” James said, trying to save the angle he had originally been aiming for.
But it seemed Andrea had already lost interest. She was picking at her sandwiches and staring down at her plate, her gaze no longer something that he was trying to catch. James felt his heart drop at the thought of upsetting her; he had not realised her mother would be there, but he was starting to question whether that should even matter in the first place.
He wished more than anything that he could steal a moment alone with her to explain himself and the reasoning behind the censorship of his stories. It was not her at all, it was only because her mother was there.
Instead, he was left to sit across the table from Andrea as she ignored him for the rest of the lunch, only speaking when her mother required her to be a part of the conversation. James quickly lost his appetite and had to explain that he had already eaten that morning when the invitation for lunch had arrived. In reality, he was not sure he could stomach another bite after realising he had put Andrea off with his words.
*
“What a nice young man,” her mother said almost as soon as James had left the two of them alone.
Andrea acknowledged the hollow feeling in her chest as she thought about how he had dodged so many of the questions that had been important to her. She had wanted to hear about his time aboard vessels at sea, how he had crossed so much land without falling victim to any disease or losing his life in a fight with the enemy.
She could not even imagine such a life of excitement and danger. If it were her who had been through all of that, she was almost positive that she would be shouting about it from the rooftops, unable to keep her excitement to herself. Instead, James had been almost completely reluctant to give out any details.
Andrea was frustrated at the thought that he was reluctant because she was a woman. She refused to believe he would think such a way after the conversations they had already engaged in.
Yet he had clearly not remembered her drive to get more out of her life, or if he had, he was playing some strange game that she did not understand. Either way, James had disappointed her in a way that she had not expected.
“You were rather quiet,” her mother pointed out.
“I just was not in the mood for conversation,” Andrea said, lifting her shoulders to shrug them slowly.
“Well, you should try to seem more interested. You are going to give him a reason not to ask for your hand if you keep acting in such a way.”
Andrea was barely listening to her mother. Instead, she was thinking about all the ways she would have approached the questions about his past differently. She could not help but wonder how she could have worded it another way to get him to open up to her.
“I feel that you are going to have a very good match on your hands if the marquess continues to see that you are interested in him,” her mother continued.
“I am not sure he will after that,” Andrea muttered.
“Men know when women are I not in the mood to talk. I am sure he will not look at it as a failed meeting. Besides, has he not already told you of his interest in you? That is something to feel reassured by if nothing else.”
But Andrea did not feel reassured. Worst of all, she was not sure if he was all she thought he was. That thought struck her the most. Marrying the wrong man was, in her opinion, worse than not marrying at all. Andrea did not want to be stuck in some loveless marriage all because she had been craving tales of adventure.
Chapter 7
The grounds of Sudeley Castle looked especially pristine under the afternoon sun. Andrea noticed the gardens, which had been so clearly recently trimmed. The houses that lined the estate to the side of the main castle building had been cleaned so that their stone shone in the light, and she watched as the gardener went about his business by planting new flowers in the beds.
She walked through the estate as she had done so many times, but that afternoon she was going somewhere that she always meant to visit more often. Andrea arrived outside of the house that her aunt called home and knocked on the dark oak door.
