She paused at the front door, wondering if she should knock. Wondering if she wanted to have this conversation at the threshold instead of sequestered in a private room. Remembering that her contract had not yet terminated, she deemed it appropriate to open the front door and slip inside. The portrait on the wall took no notice of her; the painted woman merely stared ahead as she’d been created to do, depleted of magic.
A dog barked upstairs. Within seconds, the terrier mix darted into view and sprinted down the stairs, its paws losing purchase as it hit polished hardwood. It slipped to its rump, earning a laugh from Hulda, but recovered quickly, rushing to her and planting its front paws on her knees.
“You look like you’re convalescing well.” She rubbed Owein’s ears and allowed him to lick her chin. “Glad to see you. Where’s the man of the house?”
“Hulda!” Miss Taylor swept in from the dining room and rushed to her, hugging her with the utmost gentleness. “You’re back!”
“Are you well?” Hulda pulled away to survey her friend for injuries.
“Doing better every day,” Miss Taylor assured her. “Just can’t lift anything heavy or reach too high. Mr. Babineaux has taken up dusting.”
Heavy steps announced Baptiste arriving to investigate the noise. He made no physical reaction to Hulda’s presence. “You look well,” he said.
“I am, thank you. And you?”
He shrugged. “I’m preparing chicken.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful.” She glanced back to the stairs, hoping to see Merritt appear atop them. “Is he working?”
“Mr. Fernsby went out for a walk about half an hour ago,” Miss Taylor explained, a small smile on her face. “West. I’m sure you’ll find him. He’s begun to wear a path.”
Hulda nodded, nerves igniting anew. “If I can leave my bag here.”
“Of course. I’ll put it in your room.”
Her room. She thanked her and slipped back outside. Owein tried to follow, but Miss Taylor called him back, whispering something Hulda didn’t catch. On reflection, perhaps it was better she hadn’t heard it.
Sure enough, a narrow path marked by trampled grass and goosefoot wound behind the house and westward. How often had Merritt walked this way since her departure? She followed it, rubbing her hands together, though it was more anticipation than the weather that chilled her fingers. The sun encouraged her, leaving a warm spot on the side of her head. A whimbrel called nearby.
She’d been walking about a quarter hour when she saw him near a weeping cherry, staring toward Connecticut with his arms folded and hair loose as always, wearing his coat, though by the fit of it, she could tell it was unbuttoned. The crunching of grass hardly made her approach quiet, but Merritt must have been lost in thought, for he turned around only when she was roughly six paces from him. His eyes, blue as the deepest parts of the bay, widened slightly, and his jaw went lax. “Hulda. I . . . wasn’t expecting you.”
She stopped at a good four-pace distance and lifted her nose. “You invite me to return and then say you weren’t expecting me?”
The corner of his lip twitched. “You have me there.” He reached into his vest pocket to pull out his watch, checking it. “The mail was much more timely than I gave it credit for. I was not expecting you to receive said invitation for another two days.”
She shrugged. “I was in Massachusetts, not France.”
“I ate an apple once that looked suspiciously like France.” Returning the watch, he closed the distance between them by two paces. Hulda’s heartbeat echoed in her ears. “Did you . . . like the book?”
She pressed her thumb into her palm. “I admit I haven’t finished it yet.”
“Oh?”
“I was rather distracted by a scene that did not fit the narrative in the slightest.”
Merritt glanced down and pinched the watch chain between his fingers. “And what did you think of it?”
“Competence is a very apt name. I would have preferred it over Hulda, as a child.”
He met her eyes again. “Truly?”
She tilted her head to one side. “It would have given me something to aspire to.”
The half smile that formed on his face was mesmerizing. “I hardly think you needed encouragement.”
She drew in a steadying breath. “Unfortunately, I often need encouragement.”
He took another step, leaving a single pace between them. “Is that so?”