To Bed the Bride by Karen Ranney

Author:Karen Ranney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-11-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

The next morning Eleanor woke early, made Bruce’s food, and took the bowl to the small yard in the back of the house. After he finished eating, she grabbed a Chelsea bun from the kitchen and ate it as she took Bruce to the park.

The whole time she was wondering if Deborah had told Hamilton about the letter. Eleanor fervently hoped her aunt wouldn’t say anything to Daphne. Her cousin wasn’t known for her ability to keep a secret.

She had no doubt about Hamilton’s reaction. He hadn’t quit complaining about Logan since the dinner party. According to Hamilton, Logan had been excessively rude, impolite to Michael, and inconsiderate of other viewpoints. She hadn’t defended Logan, but it had been difficult to remain silent.

Surprisingly, Logan was already at the park, sitting on the bench beneath the giant oak where they met most often. He sat with one arm along the back of the bench, staring off into the distance. The canopy of branches, barer every day, heralded the oncoming winter. Only intrepid walkers showed up in the cold. She’d always come to the park in all seasons. It had been the one place she could escape her aunt. Now Queen’s Park was not simply a refuge. It was where she and Logan talked and spent time together.

Time seemed to be accelerating, her wedding looming larger each day. Deborah and Daphne were busier than ever planning the ceremony, the parties before and after, and every conceivable celebration of Eleanor’s ascent to countess.

She approached Logan slowly, not wanting to disturb his reverie. Bruce, however, had other ideas, racing to the bench, jumping on it and then on Logan. At first he laughed, and then he corrected Bruce in that calm voice of his.

“Down, boy. Don’t get so excited that you forget your manners. You’re going to be a countess’s dog. You mustn’t forget that.”

She tried to push back the spear of pain his comment caused and greeted him.

“I think he grows at night. When I wake in the morning I half expect him to be another few inches taller.”

“Pretty soon he’ll be the same size as his mother.”

They were talking as if they were strangers again, not two people who’d met every day for weeks, exchanging thoughts and experiences, being direct and honest in a way she’d never experienced with another person.

Had something happened?

She came and sat on the bench, making room for Bruce to sit between them. She carefully gathered her skirt to one side, put her feet together and then her hands, staring at the profusion of leaves blowing across the grass. London never felt as cold as Scotland in the winter. However, she was a Highlander and had grown up tolerating Scottish weather.

Perhaps they could talk about the seasons. Or she could ask about Mr. Disraeli. Or perhaps she should simply remain silent. Yet she’d never been meek and reserved with Logan. She was not going to begin now.

She turned her head to look at him. He was watching her, his eyes giving nothing away.

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