about the prospect, he thought perhaps the earlier.
“No, I’m looking to purchase a property nearby.”
“Oh,” was all she said as she threw the flowers with what Will thought unnecessary vigour, onto the mound of other dried clippings and then turned to march back to the church.
“I think the Earl of Dobberly is to be praised for his forward thinking, Lord Ryder. After all it shows a strength of mind, does it not, for being bold enough to continue to allow a woman to compete in his race, especially as there are many who would try to persuade him otherwise.”
“I believe I am firmly put in my place, Olivia.”
They had reached the church once again; the old stone building looked unchanged from the last time he had stepped inside its hallowed walls.
“Here are the flowers, Livvy,” Phoebe said, joining them and handing the laden basket to her sister. “Hello again, my lord, I tried the plum bun but still believe the cinnamon ones superior.”
“There you have me at a disadvantage, Phoebe, as I have yet to try a plum bun because your sister stole them from me.”
“Well perhaps you could stop and get another on your return journey,” Phoebe added, looking from her sister to Lord Ryder, sensing the tension between them.
“Excellent idea, sister, and as I’m sure the buns will all be sold soon, you should take your leave at once, Lord Ryder.” Olivia threw him a false smile of encouragement; her eyes, however, told another story.
“I couldn’t possibly leave without going into the church; after all I could walk out a better man.”
“To the best of my knowledge, my lord, the last miracle performed here was two hundred years ago,” Olivia muttered.
“Livvy!” Phoebe laughed.
“Your sister has lost her sweet nature since my departure, Phoebe.”
“Not without provocation, my lord.”
“Care to enlighten me further?” Will questioned Phoebe.
“No, she does not!”
Phoebe gave her sister a steady look then said, “I shall be in the glasshouse if you need me.”
“Allow me,” Will said, reaching around Olivia to take hold of the basket. She held fast so he tugged and she had to yield or give in to an undignified tug of war. Silently they walked into the church.
The interior was dark, the only light spilling in through the large stained glass window directly above the front door. The smells were the same, beeswax and the sharper tang of scented candles. Will looked to the large cross that was suspended above the altar at the rear.
“You found us, my lord!”
Searching the church for Isabella, he found her sitting in a pew resting her leg.
“Not a terribly auspicious task when you told me where you were going, Isabella,” Will said, following Olivia with his eyes as she started arranging flowers. He didn’t want her lifting anything heavy seeing as she was still injured in some capacity. He missed the small, knowing smile Bella gave him as he quickly walked to where Olivia was hefting a large vase onto the table.
“Can you not ask for help?”
“I would if I needed it.” She grunted as the vase landed on the bench.
“I don’t remember you being this stubborn five years ago,” Will said, lifting the two others into place. “In fact, I remember men running hither and yon at your behest and you merely batting your eyelashes in gratitude.”
“Things other than physical appearances change in five years, Lord Ryder, as I’m sure you are aware.”
She looked at him briefly and then returned to fussing with the flowers. She was hiding secrets behind those eyes, Will knew it, yet he had no idea how to get her to trust him enough to share them.
“Do you and your sisters get support from Lord Langley?”
Taking several big glossy leaves she then forced them into the back of each vase.
“I hardly think that is your concern, my lord.”
“Do you want for anything, Olivia, anything I can help you with?” Will persisted.
She crushed a leaf in one hand
“No, I’m looking to purchase a property nearby.”
“Oh,” was all she said as she threw the flowers with what Will thought unnecessary vigour, onto the mound of other dried clippings and then turned to march back to the church.
“I think the Earl of Dobberly is to be praised for his forward thinking, Lord Ryder. After all it shows a strength of mind, does it not, for being bold enough to continue to allow a woman to compete in his race, especially as there are many who would try to persuade him otherwise.”
“I believe I am firmly put in my place, Olivia.”
They had reached the church once again; the old stone building looked unchanged from the last time he had stepped inside its hallowed walls.
“Here are the flowers, Livvy,” Phoebe said, joining them and handing the laden basket to her sister. “Hello again, my lord, I tried the plum bun but still believe the cinnamon ones superior.”
“There you have me at a disadvantage, Phoebe, as I have yet to try a plum bun because your sister stole them from me.”
“Well perhaps you could stop and get another on your return journey,” Phoebe added, looking from her sister to Lord Ryder, sensing the tension between them.
“Excellent idea, sister, and as I’m sure the buns will all be sold soon, you should take your leave at once, Lord Ryder.” Olivia threw him a false smile of encouragement; her eyes, however, told another story.
“I couldn’t possibly leave without going into the church; after all I could walk out a better man.”
“To the best of my knowledge, my lord, the last miracle performed here was two hundred years ago,” Olivia muttered.
“Livvy!” Phoebe laughed.
“Your sister has lost her sweet nature since my departure, Phoebe.”
“Not without provocation, my lord.”
“Care to enlighten me further?” Will questioned Phoebe.
“No, she does not!”
Phoebe gave her sister a steady look then said, “I shall be in the glasshouse if you need me.”
“Allow me,” Will said, reaching around Olivia to take hold of the basket. She held fast so he tugged and she had to yield or give in to an undignified tug of war. Silently they walked into the church.
The interior was dark, the only light spilling in through the large stained glass window directly above the front door. The smells were the same, beeswax and the sharper tang of scented candles. Will looked to the large cross that was suspended above the altar at the rear.
“You found us, my lord!”
Searching the church for Isabella, he found her sitting in a pew resting her leg.
“Not a terribly auspicious task when you told me where you were going, Isabella,” Will said, following Olivia with his eyes as she started arranging flowers. He didn’t want her lifting anything heavy seeing as she was still injured in some capacity. He missed the small, knowing smile Bella gave him as he quickly walked to where Olivia was hefting a large vase onto the table.
“Can you not ask for help?”
“I would if I needed it.” She grunted as the vase landed on the bench.
“I don’t remember you being this stubborn five years ago,” Will said, lifting the two others into place. “In fact, I remember men running hither and yon at your behest and you merely batting your eyelashes in gratitude.”
“Things other than physical appearances change in five years, Lord Ryder, as I’m sure you are aware.”
She looked at him briefly and then returned to fussing with the flowers. She was hiding secrets behind those eyes, Will knew it, yet he had no idea how to get her to trust him enough to share them.
“Do you and your sisters get support from Lord Langley?”
Taking several big glossy leaves she then forced them into the back of each vase.
“I hardly think that is your concern, my lord.”
“Do you want for anything, Olivia, anything I can help you with?” Will persisted.
She crushed a leaf in one hand
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