Page 61 of The Recluse of Wolfeton House (Ladies of Devon 4)

Chapter 21

Hattie pulled her gloves from her fingers, eager to rid herself of her gown and don her habit as she followed her sister-in-law up the steps and through the front door of their house. Lucy had taken an extraordinary amount of time in the modiste’s shop, and Hattie feared she was keeping Bentley waiting for her in the frigid barn. She had warned him of the potential, however. She could only hope he had waited a good amount of time before leaving the warmth of his house.

The butler stepped forward, his hands gripped behind his back. “You’ve a visitor, ma’am. He’s in the parlor with Master Jeffrey.”

“Who is it?” Lucy asked, stopping behind her.

“Mr. Warren.”

Hattie’s heart leapt. Finally. Thanking her butler, she stepped around him, Lucy doggedly at her heels.

“What do you intend to say?” Lucy asked.

“A greeting, I expect.”

Lucy’s irritated chuckle sounded. “But how shall you present yourself?”

“As myself.”

Lucy tugged at her arm, pulling her to a stop in the corridor outside of the parlor door, her eyes wide. “You cannot step into that room without a plan, Hattie. This is your chance to make an impression on the man that will entice him to return. Quite a lot is riding on this.” She lowered her voice, stepping closer. “Are you nervous? You seem nervous.”

“Well, now I am. Heavens, Lucy. If he was not enticed to come visit straight away following the ball where we met, then what hope do I truly have?”

Lucy looked disturbed, her chin tucking. “With that sort of attitude? No hope at all.” Seizing Hattie’s hands, Lucy gazed at her fiercely. “But you can incite his interest. I have faith in you. Is it not worth a smidgen of effort in order to secure the potential for future happiness?”

Hattie’s body froze. Was it worth the effort? Up until now, she had firmly believed love would find her, that her true love would come into her life when the time was right, and she oughtn’t fight it. That had been the case for her parents, had it not? They’d met and married after they both had passed their thirtieth year, and they were blissfully in love. Hattie hadn’t felt as though she was losing chances and running out of time to form a connection, but what if Lucy was correct, and Hattie’s true love was Mr. Warren?

She had been led to him by a fox, after all.

Drawing in a deep breath, she pressed her lips together and nodded.

Lucy looked inordinately relieved, and she tried not to read too much into that. “What is your plan?”

“Plan?” Her plan was to speak quickly to Mr. Warren and then escape to the barn. She couldn’t very well leave Bentley waiting for her much longer.

Lucy pressed her lips together and breathed through her nose, annoyance written over her drawn eyebrows. She opened her mouth to speak when the door opened, and Jeffrey appeared. He stopped himself before running directly into his wife.

“Gads, darling. What are you doing?”

Lucy strung her arm through his and affected an innocent smile. Goodness, she had that down to an art. “Just discussing tedious things. Did I hear you have a visitor?”

He nodded. “Mr. Warren came to visit. I was just coming to see what was keeping you. We saw the carriage arrive home.”

Hattie shot him a blank smile before skirting her brother and gliding into the room. Mr. Warren stood at once, doffing his hat and sending her a grin that sent butterflies to her stomach. Which was odd, for hardly anything made Hattie nervous.

“Have you enjoyed your visit to our beautiful county, Mr. Warren?” she asked, rapidly considering her options. She lowered herself into the seat nearest his and waited for Lucy and Jeffrey to claim the sofa opposite them.

“Indeed, it has been a restful respite.”

“The country is good for that,” Jeffrey agreed. “But I find myself eagerly looking forward to returning to Town.”

That came as a surprise to Hattie. She’d thought Jeffrey adored Devon. It was their home, the place they were raised.

Lucy tittered, her voice reaching an unnaturally high tone. “Of course that must be because our friends are in Town, and all the best shops. Nothing compares to being in the company of those one finds comfortable.”

Jeffrey shot a glance at his sister, and she valiantly smiled. Did Lucy imply that she did not find it comfortable in Devon generally, or just in Hattie’s house? It was true that they had never been particularly close—Lucy and Hattie were much too different for that to be possible—but Hattie had never made a concerted effort to push Lucy away. They simply did not appreciate the same things. Lucy enjoyed sifting through fashion plates and discussing gowns at length, and Hattie preferred to paint. Lucy loathed the sun and the freckles it could mar her skin with, and Hattie was so covered in the little beasts she had long since ceased trying to limit them, much preferring any activity which took her out of doors and allowed the sun to warm her skin.

Lucy cared for the strictures of Society, and Hattie valued her own ideas and opinions above those of others. The two were simply water and oil. But it hurt all the same to learn that Lucy did not wish to be there. Hattie would have assumed her home was the most comfortable, welcoming house in all of England. Her sister-in-law should feel likewise.

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