Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Two

Regan chanced another glance at Mr. Cranmer before she could stop herself. He was not looking at her, his gaze pinned on something far away, his thoughts seeming to be elsewhere. But as if he sensed her attention on him, his head turned and he looked at her from under dark lashes, nearly as dark as the hair that curled out from beneath the brim of his hat.

She returned his previous smile in an effort to cover her embarrassment at having been discovered studying him. She could not comprehend what it was about the man that drew her eye. He was handsome, yes, but nothing out of the common way. And there was a slight line of discoloration on his cheek, something that might have been an old scar. She only noticed it when he smiled, when the skin there crinkled and the pale mark of the injury was pushed into a position of prominence on his face. The rest of his features were put together well enough, though he was too young yet for her to know how he would carry the set of his jaw and cheekbones as he matured.

"Well," she said suddenly, and took a hasty sip of tea when she realized they'd been looking at one another for some time without speaking. "I should see what the children are up to. Should I leave them alone for too long, I'll no doubt find them voyaging on a homemade raft across the pond in search of sea monsters."

Both men stood as she rose from her seat, the cups clattering as she accidentally bumped into the corner of the tray. Katharine stood up as well, inviting their guests on a tour of the rose garden. Mr. Talbot did not hesitate to accept, and offered his arm to her as they stepped out of the gazebo and into the sunshine.

Regan turned away and made to venture in the direction she'd last seen Jack and Maria, but Mr. Cranmer remained a step behind her, bowing slightly as Katharine and Mr. Talbot set off towards a brick maze laid out at one end of the garden.

"Might I accompany you, my lady?"

Regan opened her mouth and closed it again. Why he would want to jaunt across the grounds in search of two rambunctious children, she couldn't imagine. She looked towards Katharine, at the way Mr. Talbot dangled after her, eyes shining as he listened to her every word. Perhaps Mr. Cranmer believed he had no chance with her daughter and so had given up the field to his friend. Or perhaps he simply didn't want to listen to Katharine list all the varieties of flowering bush and tree between here and the house.

"Of course, Mr. Cranmer." She reached up and tugged at the brim of her bonnet, which had begun to slide backwards, threatening to choke her. Though if she would take the trouble to tie it properly... "I must warn you however, it will be a dull chore. They've probably tangled themselves up in some nettles or caked themselves in mud from head to heel. And I'm sure Katharine will take you out to the folly should you ask her to. The former Sir Griffith had it erected before his death."

She took some pride in the fact that she could speak the words so easily, referring to her husband's former presence in the household as something that should no longer affect her. But there had been a catch in her voice, a waver on the last word that she doubted Mr. Cranmer had noticed. Or if he had, he made no sign of it.

"I think I find nettles and mud infinitely preferable to the latest in fashionable garden architecture," he confessed. And there was that smile again, causing his scar to pull slightly on the corner of his eye. "That is, if you won't take offense at my presence?"

"Not at all, Mr. Cranmer."

He did not hold out his arm for her, instead falling into step beside her as she navigated through the garden, beginning at the last place she had seen Jack and Maria's heads during their game of leapfrog. "Ah, there they are!" she announced as they rounded another hedge. Both of the children were crouched on the ground, half burrowed into a topiary that acted as the southern boundary of the garden, the lawn stretching out beyond it. Maria heard their approach and squirmed out from under the bush, leaves and bits of twig sticking to her curls as she beckoned her mother and Mr. Cranmer to come near.