Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Five

Regan opened her mouth to speak, to remove herself from the conversation and perhaps even plead a headache in sympathy with Miss Lane's mother, but Mr. Cranmer seemed to notice her subtle movement forward in her seat, and he stopped her with a question.

"And what about you, Lady Griffith? You used to frequent London, no doubt? Did you find enough entertainment there to keep you satisfied?"

It was then Regan realized why she was so drawn to his eyes. It wasn't merely their color, that shifting of blue and grey that seemed to change on a whim that caught and held her attention. No, it was something more. For all of the quiet kindness etched in his smile, in those faint lines around his eyes she wanted so desperately to touch, there was a heat tucked away in the depths of his gaze, a light that stilled her breath in her throat and ignited a dull ache in her abdomen she hadn't experienced for some time.

"I'm afraid Miss Lane would count me among her more tedious acquaintances," Regan said, meeting his gaze boldly, though she still couldn't fathom how the simple act of looking at him could stir up such an unusual restlessness inside of her. "I always preferred the museums and the libraries, and I could have walked for hours in the less frequented areas of the parks."

Miss Lane blew out an exasperated breath, while Mr. Cranmer leaned back slightly on his side of the settee. "Which is why, I assume, you prefer the quiet beauty of your home in Kent over the bustle and smoke of town?" He raised one dark eyebrow in question.

"And why not? I have a household to run, children to rear, and myriad other projects with which to occupy my time in a most satisfactory manner. London no longer holds any appeal for me, especially now that my hus-" She raised a finger to her lips and cleared her throat. "At my time in life, I've found that my needs are quite simple, even bucolic, you might say. I shall leave the fussings and trappings of town for those with greater interest in them than I."

Before Mr. Cranmer could speak again, Lady Polmerol fluttered over to them, her attention fixed on Miss Lane in particular.

"Miss Bunting wants to do a duet on the pianoforte, my dear! And I told her how you had only just complained that no one ever wanted to do a duet with you!"

Miss Lane smiled weakly, her gaze darting back and forth between Regan and Mr. Cranmer. "Oh, well. I..." she faltered in a lower tone as her put-on voice failed her.

"Please, Miss Lane," Mr. Cranmer urged her, the soft burr in his words more pronounced as he stood and held out a hand to help her from her seat. "I cannot think of what would give me more pleasure than to see you stationed at the pianoforte, regaling us all with your musical talents."

Another hesitation, and then Miss Lane slipped her hand into Mr. Cranmer's. She seemed as if she did not wish to release him, but she allowed Lady Polmerol to lead her towards the grand instrument situated in the corner of the room.

Regan considered finding another seat, somewhere not beside Mr. Cranmer, but the realization struck her that she would be a guest at Brandon Hall for another two weeks, at least. As would Mr. Cranmer, more than likely. She could not run away from him simply because he made her feel uncomfortable. Though it was a discomfort that frightened her, an awakening of feelings she thought had gone fully dormant after her husband's death.

And so she remained in her place, crushed into one side of the settee as Mr. Cranmer resumed his seat, only now without the barrier of Miss Lane between them. They sat in silence for several moments, and then, when the first notes of the duet began, he shifted a few inches towards her.

"What do you mean by 'at my time in life'?" he said, his voice considerably lower now in respect for the music.

Regan blinked, confused for several seconds until she realized he'd leapt back into their conversation as if there hadn't been any interruption from Lady Polmerol. "I beg your—"