The Making of a Gentleman by Deborah Hale

Author:Deborah Hale [Hale, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

Leonora squeezed her bloodless fingers around her coffee cup to still their trembling. Toying with her breakfast, she only half listened to Algie and Uncle Hugo’s animated discussion of the party.

She’d passed a miserable night, wishing she could take back the words she’d flung at Morse. Her sleep-starved mind almost looked forward to the day when he would be gone from her life, leaving her to untroubled slumber.

Yet, at the thought of his going, a deep chasm of loneliness seemed to open at her feet, threatening to swallow her whole.

If you can’t abide the notion of losing him now, her reasonable self admonished, how much worse will you feel if you let him closer?

But how could she let him go without satisfying her curiosity? For the rest of her life, she would think of him and wonder.

“Sorry I’m late.” Morse took his place at the breakfast table, his limp more pronounced than in several weeks.

Remembering what he had done for Dorothy Yates and her other pupils at the party, Leonora’s heart softened toward him.

“Not much wonder you overslept, old fellow,” mumbled Algie through a mouthful of kippers and toast. “After all that dancing and punch, I slept like a top. Splendid party, Sir Hugo,” he said for perhaps the tenth time that morning.

Thank heaven Morse was going to win her wager. No matter how fond she’d grown of Algie in other ways, Leonora knew she could not abide rising every morning to face his hearty good humor. A week into their honeymoon and she’d probably be hurling soft-boiled eggs at his head!

“Glad to hear you slept well.” Morse tucked into the breakfast he’d been served with table manners a good deal more genteel than Algie’s. “I had a roughish night.”

Was it her imagination, or did he venture a furtive glance her way?

“A bit too much dancing to suit my leg,” Morse concluded.

“You need to build up strength in it.” Algie looked to Sir Hugo for an endorsement.

“So you do,” agreed the older man. “Now that the weather’s got milder, you should go for a walk every day. Leonora can trot along with you and lecture, if you’re worried about missing lessons.”

“That sounds like a fine idea.” Morse looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement, or perhaps challenge.

She could not bring herself to look away, but neither could she summon up an answer.

A walk—away from Laurelwood. The chance for privacy.

“Right after we finish breakfast, I’ll get my coat and walking stick.” Morse’s eating seemed to increase in tempo.

“I… suppose.” Leonora forced the words out, embarrassed by the high, tight quality of her voice. She sounded like such a coward.

Pushing her scarcely touched breakfast plate away, she excused herself from the table. “I’ll fetch my cloak and bonnet and join you shortly.” She could not bring herself to meet his gaze, lest she should catch him savoring her discomfort.

In the next ten minutes Leonora donned and doffed her cloak a dozen times at least.

Yes, she would walk with Morse—what harm could it do?

No, she couldn’t possibly.

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