Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Seven

Regan appeared in the breakfast room an hour after her return to the house, freshly washed and clad in a gown that bore no signs of grass stains around the hem. Her cheeks, however, still bore a stubborn flush that she could not dispel no matter how hard she tried to keep her manner serene. If anyone remarked on her heightened color, she determined to tell at least a half-truth and attribute it to an early morning stroll about the lake. But the less mentioned about her companion during the walk, the better.

Katharine stood beside her, a picture of fresh-faced innocence and a full night's rest. Regan glanced at her daughter, watching as she made a quick survey of the room before her eyes widened slightly and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. Regan followed the line of Katharine's gaze and traced it across the room to where Mr. Winthrop sat, enjoying a large plate of sausages and toast.

Before Regan could make her own search of the room to see if Mr. Cranmer had anticipated her arrival downstairs as well, Lord Hays walked up to the two of them and sketched a polite bow.

"May I aid the two of you in the breaking of your fast?" He gestured towards the sideboard, where an astonishing array of eggs, fruit, toast, and at least three varieties of meat were on display.

"Very well," Regan said, aware that he'd given her little choice in the matter as he'd already taken up plates for her and Katharine. "And thank you," she added, before her flustered behavior could be construed as rudeness.

She watched as he filled both their plates - with the aid of the nearest manservant - a polite smile on her face as Lord Hays broached such banal topics as the weather and if the gentleman would be permitted to fish in the lake when there were no other activities planned. All throughout the conversation - a decidedly one-sided conversation, as she and Katharine had only to provide a few words of fewer syllables in order to hasten its progress - her thoughts went back to Mr. Cranmer's earlier comments concerning Lord Hays, and whether or not the latter gentleman truly had spent a portion of the previous evening with his attention fixed on her bosom.

Her hand went to the base of her throat. Her second gown this morning had been chosen with care, a simple muslin creation with a neckline boasting a frill nearly up to the level of her chin. If anyone was tempted to stare at her bosom today, they'd be putting their imaginations through a great deal of work.

Once their plates were heaped with food, Lord Hays attempted to lead them to a more secluded corner of the table. Regan, however, spotted Lady Polmerol seated at the head of the table, her place well-lit by the sunshine pouring in through the windows. She set her course in that direction, leaving Lord Hays to follow her and Katharine, despite the slight glower on his face.

"Did you enjoy your walk this morning, Mama?" Katharine asked once they were seated and the perfunctory greetings done away with. "You should have woken me. I think a long walk about the grounds would have been the most perfect way to start the day."

Regan kept her gaze pinned to her hands, which were occupied with spreading a rather large amount of butter onto a scone. "It was very damp." She cleared her voice when she realized her voice sounded odd. "The fog had yet to lift, and my gown was in a dreadful state by the time I returned to the house. I'm sure you were much more comfortable in your warm and thoroughly dry bed."

Lady Polmerol nodded in agreement as she chewed on a bite of ham. "My maid tells me to avoid going out when it's wet. Not healthful for the lungs, she says. And I have to say, I quite agree with her. Better to wait for the ground to dry before one goes traipsing about it, letting all manner of chill into their feet."

"I believe I might be more concerned about a woman walking about without a companion so early in the morning," Lord Hays remarked, throwing his hat into the conversation after he'd finished his first bite of eggs. A smile accompanied his words, though Regan could not decide if she wished to be flattered by his concern for her well-being, or irritated that he could not consider her capable of taking care of herself during daylight hours on a privately-owned stretch of property.