Lately though, he had started to think about her a little too often, especially after the last Christmas holiday. The year before had seen her changing into a woman, one with gentle curves and slopes, and a bright, radiant smile. She had come home in a smartly tailored dress that had shown her shins and ankles which were the latest fashion for young ladies, although she still kept her honey-coloured locks in a nape bun under a cloche hat instead of shearing it short like some many others. She had greeted her with a laugh and a warm embrace. Little butterflies had danced in his stomach then as he gingerly returned her affectionate hug.

Since then he had always had these curious butterflies dancing in his belly whenever he saw her smiling. He still enjoyed spending time with her, only now with newly increased intensity. He had cruised the holiday without so much as questioning his newly acquired outlook on her, and once the university had started and taken over his life he had completely forgotten all about it until it was time for another holiday.

Henry opened one of the windowpanes quietly, his eyes intent on Emmaline. He felt more than a slight disturbance as he watched her crouch before the rose bush and started to attack the rose bush with her scissors, her gardening gloved hand expertly flicking away unwanted cuttings into a small pail. No one really minded her fascination with roses except for old Thomas the gardener, who had finally given in when she had been adamant about the activity being her only means of escaping stress and keeping her sanity in line more than once.

So strong was his concentration that he didn’t even hear someone approaching from behind. Henry whirled as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder – he couldn’t help but feel a little miffed about the intrusion. However, he visibly relaxed when he registered the identity of the person who had disturbed his little moment of rumination.

“Patrick,”

His second older brother. They were quite close in age, only two years apart. At the moment he was serving his third year in Cambridge, studying law and mathematics. He himself was a first year in the same university. It was decided that Patrick would help Raoul, their eldest brother and the heir to the title, to manage his estates once the time came. At the moment Raoul was working closely with their father to learn the ropes, although there were also talk about selling parts of the estates. Himself, he wasn’t sure what he would do in the future, but with the war over and London was finally safe, he might have just found out soon.

The other man smiled ever so slightly and acknowledged him with a nod, which he returned with a similar nod and a smile. He proceeded to lean casually on the oak table and open one of Henry’s books.

“How is your morning so far? You ran straight to the library after breakfast you didn’t even give Father and Mother time to catch up on the basic news.” Patrick started casually, although the twinkle in his brown almond eyes told Henry he was about to reveal more.

His instinct proved to be accurate, as Patrick decided not to wait for his answer.

“I’ve been watching you spying on her for the past few minutes, but you’ve been so absorbed you didn’t even sense my being here.”

Coming from other people, the comment might have developed into strong teasing, but the ever-quiet Patrick somehow managed to make it sound like a light form of a joke. There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but of course, Patrick being Patrick, he refused to provoke things further without strong evidence.

Being caught by his brother that he had been ogling Emmaline albeit from a distance, Henry did nothing but shrugging off the comment, pretending the whole earlier episode never happened. “It’s nothing like what you might think.” He responded lightly, red tinged the tip of his ears. He hoped Patrick would stop to pursue the matter at hand, reluctant as he was to start a confrontation with his brother. Besides, he simply didn’t know how to elaborate further.

With Raoul, he might have jumped on the older man and started a rough and tumble, but he tended to pay more attention to what Patrick had to say, even if the other was unexpectedly joking. Even beneath his joke, Patrick had always had something to say about life – his own life, their lives, and the nature around them.

“I’ll put back the books on the shelves for you. If you want to.” Patrick’s friendly offer caused Henry to snap his head up in surprise. Gesturing with his chin to the window’s direction, he then remarked, “You follow her.”

“That’s unnecessary. She might just be a little upset, that’s all. I’m sure she will return to normal by lunchtime.” Henry flatly turned down the offer, his eyes avoiding Patrick’s warm brown ones as he turned on his heels, ready to leave.

“You have to do it.” Patrick quickly insisted. His face was uncharacteristically made of concern as he started to pick up the books, “Something must have happened for her to brood

like that. The air in the breakfast room this morning was uncomfortable. You weren’t there, but I was trying to coax the story without much success.”

“But…”

“Talk to her.” Patrick pressed on, stifling the urge to roll his eyes heavenward at his younger brother’s insensitivity. “I want to know, too.”

Opening his mouth to refuse Patrick’s implied order, he wisely clamped his mouth at the end. He challenged Patrick’s depth of eyes unwaveringly, but finally nodded when he witnessed something suspiciously like a threat reflected in there. Spinning on his heels, he left to fetch an umbrella.