That changed the moment they neared the house. Camile was clearly exasperated with Abigail. She said something tart that Gwen didn’t hear well, but the tone was clear enough. As was Abigail’s loud retort. Then Beatrix said something, and soon there were female voices speaking one over the other in such rapid words that no one could be heard clearly.
Gwen did hear Lord Sayres’s groan as well as his muttered words. “I need to get them married. They all need separate households, preferably across the country from one another.”
“That is the plan, isn’t it?” Gwen asked. “Seasons for all three.”
“Yes, but as you can plainly hear, it will not be soon enough. They need distance from one another now. For everyone’s sanity.”
She thought it might be his arguments with his father that were the real problem, but she didn’t say it. She tended to hide away from raised voices, not delve into the reasons behind them.
“I’ll be quick,” she said when they made it fully inside the house. She rushed upstairs to wash her hands and change, and then found the gig in record time. He was there before her, finishing up as he hitched up the horse. They were tooling down the drive while his sisters were still arguing.
And as the quiet finally wrapped around them, he exhaled a tremendous sigh of relief. “Silence at last.”
She said nothing. He didn’t seem to require a response as he guided the horse onto the road. But apparently there was more of a conversation going than she thought because a moment later, he asked her a question.
“Has it been horribly difficult for you?”
She hated unspecific questions like that. She never knew how to answer and so usually ended up staring at people in confusion. Had what been difficult? Changing her clothes? Working in the garden?
He turned to look at her, and then abruptly flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not making much sense.”
“Perhaps you are finding things difficult. With your father perhaps?” She phrased it as a question because she wasn’t sure of the answer. From what she’d seen of the three sisters, they enjoyed their arguments as much as they hated them. None of them seemed to hold a grudge, and an hour after the explosion, all three were in better spirits.
Meanwhile, Lord Sayres was staring out over the horse’s ears as he spoke. “He will not listen to reason, and I am exhausted with trying to get him to hear. I thought if he could see everything I’ve done, all the details I’ve worked out, that he would see it can work. I’ve made allowances for bad crops, for disasters in transportation. There are risks, to be sure, but he simply doesn’t believe in your idea.”
“My idea?” she asked.
“That I can make the flower popular.” He looked at her. “That I can make you popular.”
She arched her brows at him. “If you recall, I don’t think you can do it either. Not with me, at least.”
“Yes, with you!” he huffed. “Only you!” Then when she didn’t respond, he blew out a breath. “At least you are willing to let me try.”
“I don’t have that much at risk, though. If we fail, the worst I shall experience is some humiliation.” She shrugged. “It will not be the first time, nor the last.”
“You have invested your pin money.”
In truth, she’d invested all her pin money plus some of her dowry, thanks to a long conversation with her brother. But Elliott would not give over her entire marriage portion, merely a small percentage, no matter how many times she repeated that the was on the shelf now and old enough to manage on her own.
Aunt Isabelle was still pressuring her—via a daily letter—to invest in her canals, but now that Gwen was in Lincolnshire, the missives were likely piling up at home. It was easy to ignore something she never saw. Meanwhile, Lord Sayres’s hands tightened into fists on the reins.
“We are all taking a risk,” he grumbled.
“But this is your entire family’s money until next quarter day.”
He fell silent, and she could tell he was brooding. She allowed him to do so as she used the time to look at the scenery. So much to see. So many plants. The air was clean, and the land uncrowded. She saw several sheep and only one other person far off in the distance. Compared to the crowd in London, this was heaven.
“You don’t think it will work either,” he said, his tone hard. “You have been humoring me.”
“I don’t think I know how to humor people.”
“You do it all the time,” he said. “You cannot tell me you wanted to play charades with Abigail last night. Or that you enjoyed corralling those children with Camile yesterday.”
She hadn’tnotenjoyed it. “I was helping out,” she said. “And I liked watching all of you play charades.”
“And will you enjoy it when I cover you in flowers and take you to a several balls in one evening? Or will you be helping out?”
She thought spending the evening on his arm would be wonderful, but she didn’t say that. She couldn’t because the thought was so new in her mind. She didn’t enjoy anyone’s company as much as she did his. Not even Lilah’s.