XXV

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"Find a woman who makes you feel more alive. She won't make life perfect but she'll make it infinitely more interesting. And then love her with all that's in you." Gayle G. Roper, Shadows on the Sand

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XXV.

Perhaps it was not still as early as Adam had thought, as the village was very much awake by the time Adam and Grace walked through it. Grace was now holding Adam's arm, a more appropriate display of courtship, and it was very much noticed by everyone who walked by them.

Adam was happy for the rumours to spread. They would certainly be true. They were courting. They would be engaged in time, and then they would be married. The thought alone still completely struck Adam as incredible. Lord, he would need to find a way to thank his mother. Yet another thought that was truly baffling.

Grace wore the most blissful smile upon her face as she knocked on her mother's door, before letting herself into the house. "Mama!" she called. "It is me!"

The scent of baking immediately filled Adam's nose as they went into the kitchen. He had not been in this house since he was a boy, and yet he seemed to remember the way. When once it had been Mrs Denham who was always a fixture in the kitchen, this morning it was Claire.

Claire wore a plain grey dress with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, and an apron protecting her clothes from the flour. She stood before the bench, kneading dough, with a fresh loaf having just been pulled from the oven.

The moment Claire saw Grace, she paused, smiling, but her expression immediately changed when she saw Grace's companion. Her mouth dropped open, and Adam mused that the sisters looked remarkably similar when they were surprised.

She quickly wiped her hands on her apron before pulling it off and laying it down on the bench. "Good morning ... milord," she greeted quizzically as she hurried around the bench to curtsey before Adam. "Grace?" Claire's eyes flared at her sister, as though she were communicating by thought.

Grace laughed, as though she understood, and Adam realised they perhaps they could communicate by thought.

"Miss Claire, please do not feel the need to curtsey," he assured her. "I am the one imposing on you this morning."

Claire smiled nervously, before seizing Grace's hand and pulling her towards the stairs, and quickly out of Adam's sight. "You look awful and yet you are smiling!" he heard Claire hiss. "Why were you crying if he is with you?"

But Adam could not hear Grace's reply as their voices were quickly muffled as they reached the upper floor. And Adam was left on his own in the kitchen. He would have put water on for tea ... yet he had no idea how to do that. He had a Cambridge education, and yet he would not know where to begin when it came to boiling water on a stove.

Adam was not alone for long, however, as the quick footsteps of a couple descending the stairs sounded, though they were much too rambunctious to be the steps of young ladies.

And he was correct as two young men joined him in the kitchen. The older of the two looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. He was growing, and would be tall, and looked to be quite strong, as though he laboured regularly. His hair was dark, the same shade as his sisters, and he wore it down to his chin, where it curled slightly at the ends. He had to have been Peter Denham, whom Adam had not seen since he was all of three.

The younger of the two was still very much a boy. He was untidy in grass stained breeches and a shirt that had had one too many holes mended. His dark hair was scruffy and unkempt and had most certainly not seen a comb in many moons. Jeremy Denham had been a baby when Adam had left for school. It was hard to believe that he was now this old.

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