“Will you be staying for the rest of the summer?”

Raphaella turned around toward the voice. She was pleased to see Lord Westmore walking along the terrace, his wife with him. Raphaella herself was standing on the far side of the terrace at Westmore, looking out over the late summer gardens.

“We plan to go to the coast for a while,” Raphaella told him, feeling a twinge of excitement. “My uncle has a cottage there. We’ll spend some time there before returning to Inverly House for the confinement.”

“I see.” Emilia, Westmore’s wife, nodded. “I am so pleased you could be here for this time, though. It’s lovely to have you here.”

“I’m so pleased to be here,” Raphaella agreed. She was. It was a beautiful scene, the garden bright with autumn, the sunlight catching the leaves and painting them russet against the turquoise of the sky. She breathed in, smelling the fresh, sweet scent of the countryside air.

“I’m glad you don’t feel too out-of-sorts for the odd small house party,” Emilia continued. “I couldn’t resist inviting guests, not now that we have new neighbors.”

“I’m glad I could attend,” Raphaella commented. She looked down into the garden, where the guests had all left the confines of the house and were now gathering in the arbor, the evening light making the deep green shadows a place of peaceful rest. She could spot gentlemen in dark suits standing on the paths here and there, talking to ladies in brightly colored dresses seated on the benches.

She caught sight of Canmure, her brother. He was walking alone down the path between the trees. She thought he looked a little sad, so she bid farewell to Lady Westmore and went to join him.

“Canmure!” she called, as she walked down to join him on the gravel path. He heard her and turned to face her, smiling. She still thought he looked less than cheerful – the smile didn’t quite light up his eyes.

“Sister. How is your evening?” he asked, coming over to join her.

She smiled. “It’s nice. Logan is over there.” She pointed down the garden, “looking at the stables with Lord Amberly. I think he wants to buy his coach horses.” She grinned.

“I see.” Canmure nodded. “Well, I’m sure he’ll get them. I hope that doesn’t mean you’ll be traveling back too soon?” His eyes held her own, waiting for an answer.

Raphaella looked down the path, feeling guilty. She didn’t want to leave Canmure alone up here, but at the same time, she wanted to be at home for when the child was delivered. “I will go when the cold winds come in.” She looked away, not wanting to see him upset.

“Of course, sister.” Canmure nodded. He squeezed her hand fondly. “I want you to be safe. I will endeavor to travel down for the birth, though if the weather doesn’t permit, I might not be there in time.” He made a face. “I do hate bad weather.”

“You’re a dear,” Raphaella said, smiling up at her brother. His smile was uncertain. It felt like there was some new distance between them, as if his own personal sorrow had built a wall between them. She wished she could help her brother, but she didn’t know how. She couldn’t even guess what it was that had upset him.

“I’ll just take a walk down to the gardens. Have a look at the water garden, maybe. It’s cold out here, sister – perhaps you should return to the house. I’m sure Logan will come back from the stables soon.” He gestured up towards the house. “Oh, look! There he is.”

Raphaella looked over her shoulder and, sure enough, she saw the tall, lean form of her husband walking up from the stables. He was walking fast, which meant that the slight limp he had as legacy of his army years was in evidence, making his steps a little heavy on the right side. She walked up to join him, feeling her heart fill with love as he smiled at her.

“You made a deal with him?” Raphaella asked, seeing from the sparkle in Logan’s eye that something had gone well with the talk with Lord Amberly.

“I did!” Logan smiled. “I know it seems a bit overcautious of me to have two teams of horses for the coach, but I think we’ll be doing a lot of traveling between London and here and I want us to be able to do it in the safest possible way.” He took her hands.

“I know,” she said softly. “You’re very dear, Logan.”

“It’s not dear to fuss about you a little – it’s something I just can’t help.” He grinned; his eyes were tender as they rested on her.

She smiled. She stroked his handsome face with her hand, but she felt a little sad still, after her talk with Canmure, and it must have shown in her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re well, dearest?” Logan asked, taking both her hands in his. “I hope you’re not too cold out here.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I was just talking to Canmure. I feel a little worried about him.” She glanced down the path to where he had been a few moments earlier. She couldn’t see him anymore.

“What happened?” Logan asked. “Was he angry about something?”

“No,” Raphaella shook her head, aware of how protective Logan’s voice sounded, even when discussing somebody as close as her brother. “I just felt bothered about him because he looks so sad.”

“Shall we go and find him?” Logan suggested, looking down the path where she had been staring too. “We can talk to him about coming to stay in London for the Season. I’m sure he’d like that, and we won’t be spending time out at parties this year.”

“That’s a good idea.” Raphaella nodded. She walked with Logan down the path towards the trees. Canmure could do with coming back to London, she thought. Westmore was his best friend, but there were so few people up here in the north besides Westmore for him to spend time with.

“I’m sure he would be happier down in London. As you said, he’s not really a country fellow, though he does seem to like it up here in the summer months.”

“Yes,” Raphaella replied, though she wasn’t really concentrating. She’d just spotted Canmure, and he was talking to somebody, a young lady.

She looked at the lady carefully. She was younger than herself by a few years, she thought. She had long wavy hair of a beautiful pale gold color, and a curvaceous figure. She thought she recognized her, but her name didn’t come to her mind at once.

“That’s Lady Esquith,” she murmured, recalling the name as they waited. She watched her brother talking to the woman. They were far away, and no words reached them, but she thought he looked earnest and the lady looked interested in what he was saying.

She looked up at Logan and then back at the pair, as Jeremy Alford, Lord Fielder, her brother, came up to them.

Logan nodded as she gestured that they go back. They turned around and walked back up to the house. They moved away as carefully as possible, so as not to disturb the couple.

“That’s good to see,” Raphaella said softly to Logan as they walked up the path that led to the dining room, heading through the rose arbor.

“It is,” Logan nodded. “I would be pleased to see Lady Esquith settling into the neighborhood.”

“They’re new here?” Raphaella asked, though she could recall now that Lady Westmore had introduced them and that she was newly arrived in the area – she and her brother were living in Fielder House, an old manor not far from Westmore.

“Yes. She insisted they move here following the death of Lord Esquith. I understand she insisted, and then she and her brother moved in.” He raised a brow, clearly surprised by the lady’s persistence.

“I think there must be a story there,” Raphaella nodded. She glanced back to the clearing, but she couldn’t see the pair anymore.

She thought that she would be pleased to hear the story when she had a chance.

Lady Westmore was standing at the other side of the room, and she went to join her. She had spotted Jeremy through the window, it seemed, for she turned to Raphaella, one brow lifted, her lips drawn up in a smile.

“That’s our new neighbor. He’s a welcome addition to the neighborhood. I’m glad they’ve come over to visit – I worried that they wouldn’t agree yet.”

“Oh?” Raphaella frowned, keen to learn more about them. “Would there have been reason to refuse?”

“Not really,” Lady Westmore said softly. “Only they’re just up from London – I understand Lord Esquith was somewhat problematic. Lady Esquith is a well-known heiress – she and her brother are from a wealthy family – and I think her marriage was not a happy one.”

“I see,” Raphaella nodded. She felt her heart go out to the beautiful young lady.

When she saw her walking in with her brother by her side, she felt a bit happier. Canmure looked happy too, and she felt certain all would be well.

Logan came over to join her, taking her hand in his.

“You look happy, dear.” He smiled down into her face.

“I am,” she said, turning to look up at him, feeling her heart suddenly fill with warmth and tenderness for him. “I love you,” she said softly, so that only he could hear her.

“I love you, too,” he murmured.

She took his hand and they walked out together into the garden.

“I am glad we’re here,” Logan murmured. “It’s good to be in the countryside and to see Canmure again.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “And we’ll be coming back here quite often, I think. I don’t intend to ever stay away from the country long.” She stole a glance at her husband and slyly said, “We will need to bring our family out here too, you know. To our cottage.”

“Our family?” Logan grinned. “You mean, apart from our new child?” He rested his hand on her belly, a gesture that touched her deeply.

“Oh, yes,” she said, feeling a smile cross her face. “I don’t intend to have just one, you know.”

“No?” His eyes were bright, and she had to laugh. He didn’t look too daunted; that made her heart soar.

“No. I think we shall have three, or even four of them.”

He laughed and held her close and she kissed his cheek and together they walked on into the sunlit garden.

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