Lois Menzel by Ruled by Passion Page A

daylight.”
    They shared a shepherd’s pie followed by a bowl of strawberries and fresh cream. Since the maid serving them was often in the room, they had little opportunity for conversation during their short meal.
    The curricle was at the door as they stepped from the inn into the street. Tenbury looked up to the sky where the thinly scattered clouds were once again thickening.
    “It appears as if we may have more rain,” he said.
    Anne glanced anxiously at the clouds, thinking of the long walk home that lay before her. Tenbury extended a hand to her and she raised questioning brows.
    “Allow me to hand you up, ma’am. I promise a sedate walk every step of the way home and an instant stop should you require one.”
    With this assurance, Anne climbed into the carriage, and they were soon on their way back to Tenton Castle.
    “You are already worried about parting with the lunch you just consumed,” he said before they had gone a hundred yards.
    She turned toward him in surprise, her thigh contacting his on the seat. “How did you know?”
    “It’s elementary. When you enter a carriage, any carriage, the first thing you think of is the illness you have suffered in the past. You worry it will happen again. That worry sets your nerves on edge, tenses every muscle in your body. I have promised to walk the horses. Forget your luncheon, as you have long forgotten your fear of carriages. Instead, enjoy the scenery, the fresh air, my excellent company and witty conversation. If you will but relax, I believe your illness may vanish.”
    Wanting to believe he was right, Anne smiled at him and tried to do as he asked. The day continued pleasant, for even though the clouds thickened, the rain held off.
    “When we met earlier, I mentioned there was something I wished to discuss with you,” Tenbury said. “I feel I should apologize for Lady Mason’s behavior yesterday.”
    “It is not your place to apologize for her, my lord.”
    “No. It’s not. But I am certain she will never do so herself, and I am convinced you are owed an apology. I know this will probably be hard for you to understand, but she does not even realize she said anything offensive. Many women of her class—our class—disparage children and governesses. Such comments are commonly heard and widely accepted.”
    “That does not make them right.”
    “No. Yet I doubt you or I will be able to do much to change things. So I apologize for her tactlessness and hope you can make allowance for it and put it behind you.”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what he could possibly admire about such a woman, but she realized how inappropriate the question would be.
    “Arelia tells me that Belinda is doing well in her studies,” he continued. “What of Tom? Have he and Mr. Pearce made progress?”
    “Yes. You made the perfect choice in Mr. Pearce. He is a natural teacher, most sensitive to Tom’s ... moods.”
    “Ishe often moody?”
    “Not always. The last few days he has seemed rather restless, though.”
    “Tomorrow is June eighteenth,” Tenbury said. “Three years since Waterloo. That is where Henry died.”
    “I see.”
    Anne was quiet for some time afterward, and Tenbury did not interrupt her thoughts. As they turned onto the drive of the Castle, he spoke at last. “We are home, and now I will ask: Did you feel the least ill on the way?”
    “Not at all. But you kept me talking. I had no time to think of it.”
    “Precisely. You had no time to think. I will take you up again some day. I expect you will soon discover that your sickness is a thing of the past.”
    Later the same evening, Anne spent nearly an hour in the schoolroom reading through one of the Greek histories her father had translated. Finally she found the passage she sought. Taking a quill and paper, she copied the words and then blotted the page carefully.
    When she went to Tom’s room, she found him in bed but not yet asleep. “Could I talk with you a moment?” she