Chapter Seven

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Dumbfounded, Percival watched the young woman rush away. She'd seemed happy to see him, but then had acted so strangely. Had she been pretending when she greeted him?

No, Percival wouldn't accept that she had changed that much. She never pretended to feel something she didn't feel. But what if it wasn't that she'd changed, but that her opinion on him had changed? She would have told him, wouldn't she? She had always been honest and never beat around the bush. It was one of the things he'd admired so much about her.

So maybe it wasn't that she had changed, but he had.

The idea was unsettling. His social skills had always been a bit lacking, alienating him from family and friends alike. He couldn't seem to find his footing among other people, no matter how hard he tried, and it only seemed to get more difficult as time passed.

Was he a man no one could like, let alone love? Would he always be alone?

These worrying thoughts went round and round in Percival's mind as he watched Miss Cooper make her way back to the house. It was only once she vanished into the house that Percival made himself turn away.

He'd seen her. She was well and had smiled at him. And she would not disappear overnight again. He would find a way to be satisfied with that for the moment. They would be able to talk again tomorrow, and perhaps then he could learn more.

And yet, as he began to walk, Percival couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't actually learned anything from the conversation they had just had. He still didn't know why he was so objectionable to her parents, and Miss Cooper hadn't agreed to marry him.

True, he hadn't asked that particular question he'd had on his mind for the last five years, as she'd pointed out. She wanted them to take their time in getting to know each other before rushing into anything. It was unreasonable of him to think that she would accept his advances upon being reunited.

"You're the visitor in town, aren't you?"

Startled, Percival lifted his gaze. He'd reached the road, and there was a cart standing a few feet from the gate. A middle-aged man was seated in the cart, watching Percival with a great deal of interest.

"That much seems clear," Percival replied sharply. He was frustrated by the fact that he had to talk to people when all he wanted was peace and quiet.

Instead of taking offense, the older man let out a laugh. "Yes, I suppose that is true. I am Mr. John Gillham," he said, leaning down to extend his hand. "I'm the vicar of this humble parish."

As he reluctantly shook the man's hand, Percival suppressed a sigh. Perhaps if he was polite, the man would leave sooner. As he straightened up, Gillham said, "So. You've come to see Blossom Place? It is something of a local mystery, you know."

"In what way?" Percival questioned, despite his intention to remain aloof

Gillham let out another laugh and gestured towards the gate. "A beautiful old house that, by all appearances, appears to be abandoned and no one ever visits? It would take a truly indifferent kind of person not to be curious about what happened there."

"Then, you don't know why it looks as it does?"

"I'm afraid I don't." The vicar glanced around. "If you are in no rush, I'll take you along to the village. I am on my way to make a visit there."

Though part of him suspected the other man simply wanted to question him, Percival accepted the offer. His feet were sore from all the walking he'd been doing as of late. He'd just be on guard to avoid any gossip and give away too much information.

Once he was seated on the cart next to Mr. Gillham, the vicar set the conveyance into motion. "Did you find what you wanted at Blossom place?" was the first question the man asked.

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