He couldn’t be rushing to open doors for her, to stoke up the fire of whatever room she wished to use, to fetch her a shawl or a glass of wine. He couldn’t even keep an eye on the other members of the Berkeley Brigade for her, as he usually did, since the whole lot of them were gone.The days dragged by. He scanned each morning’s post with the eagerness of a lover to see if she had written making any small request of him. His spirits soared when he saw his name written in her dainty script. It would alleviate his grief to be able to perform some duty for her during her absence.He knew before he opened the letter that it was more than one page, and his heart throbbed. Could it possibly be she wanted him to join the party at Newstead? He opened the letter with trembling fingers, and when he saw the two closely written sheets, he called a footman to replace him at the door and went into the drawing room to read it undisturbed.He felt closer to her in her room than in his own little chamber near the front door.
