Read Online Enchanted by The Lord (Historical Victorian Romance) by Catherine Hamill - Free Book Online

to church together, the Duke and staff arriving as one party. The children spot our new friend first, at the church, and wave over to Harry enthusiastically. He looks even more handsome in his Sunday best suit, and beside him sits his father. I can see where he gains his good looks, for although an older version, they are very much alike. To think, his father may have been at the same church every week I have attended, and I never noticed. For all I know, Harry could have been there too, but surely I would have noticed him. The service passed by quickly and afterwards we met at the gate of the church grounds, where everyone passes through to leave. As it is my half day off from my teaching duties, I am free to spend the rest of the day as I wish, and I wished to spend it with him.
     
    He has brought with him a two seater buggy and a picnic basket. It seems he has thought the day out well. I am amazed at how well he handles the buggy, with just one arm, but he does so very capably. After a short ride we arrive in a small woodland, by a river. It was a beautiful setting. I see a curved, stone bridge and under the bridge is a small pebble beach. I hope that no one else has the same idea. It is so idyllic, and I want it all to myself.
     
    “I come here when I need to think,” he smiles, helping me get down from the buggy. “It is such a peaceful and serene place, and very few people know of it.”
     
    I approach the horse that has drawn us here, and rub her behind the ears. The mare is a beauty with black and white patches that are most stunning.
     
    “You have a good taste in horses, what is her name?” I ask, still stroking her nose.
     
    “Here, give her this,” he laughs, handing me a small apple. “We have a tree full of those and she’ll eat the lot, I guarantee it, every year. We call her Patchy, for obvious reasons.”
    “She is lovely,” I say as I feed her the apple. “Do you ride her?”
     
    “I do,” he says proudly. “Do you ride, Miss Blackwood?”
     
    “I love to ride,” I reply. “Please, call me Rosalind; we don’t have to be so formal, do we?”
     
    “I think your name is very appropriate. You remind me of a pretty rose, Rosalind,” he compliments me.
     
    I can’t help but blush at his words and I can see he feels embarrassed, and he quickly changes the subject.
     
    “I’ll spread the blanket by the running water. We’re lucky it’s a fine day for a picnic, and if it rains, we can run underneath the bridge,” he suggests.
     
    The food is very welcome as I am rather famished; breakfast on a Sunday is a light affair. We chatter and I decide to tell him about Peter. They have the war in common so it seems good to share our private experiences of that terrible event. I see his face sadden as I tell him my tale.
     
    “The war in Belgium was not kind to many of us. I was lucky to return home, but I do grieve for the many friends that I lost, so I share your pain.” He has a heavy note of sorrow in his voice, but he looks me directly in the eyes as he speaks, and I can sense his empathy and sadness at my loss, is genuine.
     
    He encloses my hand in his large ones and squeezed firmly, though not painfully. It is a welcome human touch, as I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
     
    I don’t want this day to be only about sadness, I’ve had enough of that recently. I tell him about my parents and my home in Worthing. How I had a wonderful childhood there, and I really miss my home town. It turns out he has been to Brighton, which is not far from where my parents live, and we speak about how we both love the sea. By the end of our day together, I feel I have made a new friend, one that I could enjoy sharing company with. It is not until this moment that I realized how lonely I have become. Losing Peter and then leaving home, has left me vulnerable. I am not making excuses for my shameful behaviour with Lord Guy, but nonetheless, I think in some ways I am still deeply entranced