was strong feeling there, surely a ‘commonplace quarrel’ would not end it?”
“But it wasn’t a small misunderstanding. I wished for a formal announcement at the end of my last leave. She refused. Oh, not me. She agreed to wed me. But no public engagement until I returned home safely. I think she did not wish to risk being tied to a cripple. And also,” Robin continued bitterly, “she did not wish to curtail her many flirtations until I returned. Perhaps I was unfair in asking her to make that commitment then, but I wanted to know that I had her love supporting me and carrying me through. As it was, I made it through very well without it.”
“Tell me, Robin was this woman the Lady Diana Grahame?”
“Yes. Did I make such a cake of myself that it was public knowledge?”
“Oh, no. I think it was only that I noticed the extra waltzes and ‘accidental’ meetings in the park,” Barbara reassured him. “You were both certainly discreet about the degree of your involvement. I am sorry. I do not know her well, but I have always thought that, underneath her occasional wildness, she has a warm heart. Have you spoken to her since your return?”
“We have exchanged the necessary politenesses. I stood up with her once, but only because I could not have got out of it gracefully. The lady is most certainly not suffering from a broken heart. And neither am I. Who knows, I may fall suddenly in love with one of the Misses Stanhope!”
Barbara laughed with Robin, and some of the seriousness lifted from his face.
“And now you, miss. It is your turn.”
“There is someone, Robin, but I fear it is a clichéd case of one-sided love,” Barbara said lightly. “You would think I would have outgrown it by now. Perhaps I will retire to Ashurst with you, and we could challenge Father together,” she said mischievously.
“I might take you up on that offer. And is that all you will tell me about the state of your heart? I think I was expertly outmaneuvered. Now tell me, how did Judith’s first visit to Simon go?”
“It went well. He certainly did not seem to recognize her. They have agreed upon a few weeks’ trial period to see if she suits him.”
“How does Simon look?”
“Physically? Judith said thinner than she remembered him. But there is no disfigurement, as you know, aside from the scar on his temple. She said that when he looks at you it is hard to remember he cannot see. He is different, though. He has always been so open and natural, but now there is an ironic undercurrent to the simplest things he says. Francis told her that he has been this way since he returned.”
“Does she think that the reading will help?”
“Well, it does not seem to hurt.”
“And if our deception were discovered? What effect do you think that would have?”
“I think we are safe enough. The servants are ignorant of her connection with us, except for Cranston and Martin, and they are, like Francis, convinced that deception is necessary. If he does find out ... well, at least his anger would be a reaction.”
“Is he that subdued?”
“Judith says he is apparently convinced his sight will return. Underneath, she thinks he is beginning to realize it is hopeless, but he cannot yet face the truth. Yet, despite his blue devils, Judith seems to be enjoying herself. On her first day, she even discovered a poet she had never heard of, William Blake.”
“That’s famous. Thank God Simon was never one to be put off by a woman’s intelligence. Her enthusiasm may carry the day, after all.”
Chapter 12
Had she known, as she walked up the duke’s steps, again trembling with fear and anticipation, that Simon had noticed, for the first time in weeks, how slowly the time passed—and that he found himself if not looking forward to something, at least expectant—Judith would have relaxed. As it was, when she was announced at the library door, Simon did no more than greet her as he had done on Tuesday. She did
“But it wasn’t a small misunderstanding. I wished for a formal announcement at the end of my last leave. She refused. Oh, not me. She agreed to wed me. But no public engagement until I returned home safely. I think she did not wish to risk being tied to a cripple. And also,” Robin continued bitterly, “she did not wish to curtail her many flirtations until I returned. Perhaps I was unfair in asking her to make that commitment then, but I wanted to know that I had her love supporting me and carrying me through. As it was, I made it through very well without it.”
“Tell me, Robin was this woman the Lady Diana Grahame?”
“Yes. Did I make such a cake of myself that it was public knowledge?”
“Oh, no. I think it was only that I noticed the extra waltzes and ‘accidental’ meetings in the park,” Barbara reassured him. “You were both certainly discreet about the degree of your involvement. I am sorry. I do not know her well, but I have always thought that, underneath her occasional wildness, she has a warm heart. Have you spoken to her since your return?”
“We have exchanged the necessary politenesses. I stood up with her once, but only because I could not have got out of it gracefully. The lady is most certainly not suffering from a broken heart. And neither am I. Who knows, I may fall suddenly in love with one of the Misses Stanhope!”
Barbara laughed with Robin, and some of the seriousness lifted from his face.
“And now you, miss. It is your turn.”
“There is someone, Robin, but I fear it is a clichéd case of one-sided love,” Barbara said lightly. “You would think I would have outgrown it by now. Perhaps I will retire to Ashurst with you, and we could challenge Father together,” she said mischievously.
“I might take you up on that offer. And is that all you will tell me about the state of your heart? I think I was expertly outmaneuvered. Now tell me, how did Judith’s first visit to Simon go?”
“It went well. He certainly did not seem to recognize her. They have agreed upon a few weeks’ trial period to see if she suits him.”
“How does Simon look?”
“Physically? Judith said thinner than she remembered him. But there is no disfigurement, as you know, aside from the scar on his temple. She said that when he looks at you it is hard to remember he cannot see. He is different, though. He has always been so open and natural, but now there is an ironic undercurrent to the simplest things he says. Francis told her that he has been this way since he returned.”
“Does she think that the reading will help?”
“Well, it does not seem to hurt.”
“And if our deception were discovered? What effect do you think that would have?”
“I think we are safe enough. The servants are ignorant of her connection with us, except for Cranston and Martin, and they are, like Francis, convinced that deception is necessary. If he does find out ... well, at least his anger would be a reaction.”
“Is he that subdued?”
“Judith says he is apparently convinced his sight will return. Underneath, she thinks he is beginning to realize it is hopeless, but he cannot yet face the truth. Yet, despite his blue devils, Judith seems to be enjoying herself. On her first day, she even discovered a poet she had never heard of, William Blake.”
“That’s famous. Thank God Simon was never one to be put off by a woman’s intelligence. Her enthusiasm may carry the day, after all.”
Chapter 12
Had she known, as she walked up the duke’s steps, again trembling with fear and anticipation, that Simon had noticed, for the first time in weeks, how slowly the time passed—and that he found himself if not looking forward to something, at least expectant—Judith would have relaxed. As it was, when she was announced at the library door, Simon did no more than greet her as he had done on Tuesday. She did
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