Chapter Thirteen

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After spending about an hour or so in the parlour, Allie and the others were shown to the chambers they would be staying in for the rest of their visit. Her mind wandered as her lady's maid, Priscilla, helped her unpack her trunk and change into a light day dress. Once Priscilla had finished and left, Allie sat herself down on the plush bed and exhaled deeply.

A range of thoughts swam in her mind, and the reality of the last week or so caught up to her. It had been an exhausting mess of events that she still was unable to make head or tail of. With a sigh, she rubbed at her eyes and yawned, wishing for night to come so that she might sleep.

They'd been informed that the midday meal would be served at half past noon, and they had a few hours to relax and recover from their journey, but Allie knew that if she slept now, she would not awaken until much later. Sleep had not come to her easily for days, and her nights had been spent tossing and turning in unfamiliar beds at inns along the way. In the carriage, the best she could do was nap for short spells until a particularly bumpy stretch of road jolted her from her sleep.

She glanced around the room, taking it all in. Somerhall was incredibly grand, but Kensington Place seemed to be even grander. While both homes seemed to be of about the same age, Somerhall was built in the Gothic Tudor style while Kensington Place was built in the English Baroque style. It was lighter and airier than Somerhall, and her room even had a lovely little balcony with a pillared rail that overlooked the expansive grounds.

The walls were papered in cream, with small swirling designs on the paper that were only a shade darker and barely noticeable. There was an intricate folding screen towards the side of the room and a study table as well. The bed was a gorgeous, ebony poster bed with translucent hangings, silk sheets and an ottoman at its foot. It was truly beautiful.

There was a chair on the balcony, and she decided to sit outside for a while to keep herself from falling asleep. For about a half hour, all she did was stare at the rolling green and the stables to the side as she attempted to keep her thoughts at bay by replacing them with dreams of how lovely it would be to ride. It had been far too long since she'd ridden, the last time being two weeks before at Hawthorne Hall, but even that had not been on her mare, Starlight, whom Allie had reared and ridden since she was a foal.

The chair was comfortable, and she soon found herself dozing off, but straightened up with a start at the sight of Richard, who was walking in the grass a few metres from her balcony, seemingly lost in thought and unfocused on everything around him.

He looked handsome and lordly, with his windswept hair and measured gait. The thought came suddenly, and she couldn't help but wince at how naturally she'd thought it, as if they were actually engaged and not just pretending. It was quite honestly embarrassing, and she was glad he could not read her thoughts.

Suddenly, as if he could feel her gaze on him, he looked up and caught sight of her. He raised his hand in greeting, and she did the same, praying he could not see her blush from where he was. It was impossible, but the idea still embarrassed her.

"Shall I come up?" He called, and his voice carried in the silence of everything else around them. Hopefully her sister and brother-in-law, who were in the room right beside hers, had not heard.

"Alright." She replied, attempting to sound as at ease as she could. She hadn't spoken very loudly, but sound carried in the country and he appeared to have heard her well enough for he nodded and replied that he would be right there. It was not exactly proper for him to come to her room, even if just the balcony and in plain sight. If it were London, they would have caused quite the scandal, but this was his home and he clearly trusted that the same would not result here and she trusted him.

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