Chapter Twelve

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As she ascended the stairs, Christianna couldn't help but smile. It had been a most enjoyable day. Her stomach rumbled from hunger. The walk in the orchard had certainly increased her appetite. The delicious aroma of pastries wafting off the tray she carried was enough to make her mouth water.

Sir Percival's visit had been a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one. Sunday had felt like an eternity, with Christianna alone for most of the day. To hear about life outside of Blossom Place, even something as mundane as a Sunday service, was at least something different.

He'd described the local church in enough detail that she suspected he had spent more time looking around instead of listening to the vicar's sermon. Still, it had been lovely to hear all about the stone building with stained glass windows.

Would her aunt be interested to hear about it too? Christianna had her doubts but resolved to try anyway. It would provide something new to talk about instead of endless debates about doll measurements.

For the first time, Christianna saw all of the effort that went into creating a dollhouse. Aunt Steit had really thrown herself into the new project, drawing up detailed plans and making lists of materials needed to furnish each little room.

So far Christianna had only measured one room for her great aunt. The elderly woman requested precise measurements and insisted that her great-niece verify each one twice for accuracy. And since it was easier with two people to do the task, Christianna needed to work around Fanny's duties.

"Good afternoon, Aunt," Christianna called out as she entered the library. "What have you managed to accomplish today? Have you decided what kind of wallpaper to hang in the library, or are you still considering your options?"

Seated at the desk, Aunt Steit looked up from her papers. She frowned. "You're late," she chided. "I was beginning to think you intended to have me starve."

"I'm not late," Christianna insisted as she walked to the desk carrying a tray of food. "If I am, it can't be by much."

Aunt Steit shook her head and let out a deep sigh. "I suppose you feel I should thank you for choosing to spend time with me instead of the baronet. How long before you run away with him and leave me alone?"

Heavens, she sounded like a petulant toddler! "I am not the sort to run away," Christianna answered calmly. "I guarantee that when and if I decide to get married, you will be the first person to find out."

"'When?'" Aunt Steit repeated, her expression creasing into a frown. "Do you plan on forgiving the young man then?"

Confused, Christianna furrowed her brow. "What am I meant to forgive him for?"

The woman made a snort of derision. "He waited five whole years to find you. Hardly the actions of a man who had serious intentions. Haven't you wondered if he made his search because you are the only lady to tolerate him now?"

Irritated, Christianna crossed her arms. "If we follow your logic, I ought to beg for his forgiveness. Because I did not do more to let him know where I was these past few years."

"Never beg, Anna," Aunt Steit said sharply. "A lady never begs. It is vulgar and puts you in the power of a man. Such a thing will only end badly for you."

Was the woman speaking from her own experiences? Christianna could only wonder. She longed to press the woman for more details, to question her on her past. But, given Aunt Steit's tight expression, she suspected she wouldn't get far.

"Sir Percival told me a bit about the sermon that happened yesterday," Christianna commented, pouring the tea. She didn't even have to pause over how her Aunt liked it. "The church sounds lovely. Do you know how long the stained glass windows have been there?"

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