The More I See You Read Free

monopolize the girl,” escorted Jessica to the door, and brushed aside her heartfelt thanks.
    “Go walk in the garden, my dear,” Henry had said with a kind smile. “I’ll occupy him well enough. We’ll discuss Plato.”
    She had taken the time to find a bathroom, wash her face, and remove the wimple she’d put on earlier in the day. She studiously ignored the fact that when she’d first seen her postparty self, her headgear had been sliding off her head. That was thanks to Archie’s unruly transportation of her person; she’d been too flustered to try to adjust anything once she’d reached the party.
    Just another reason to find a dull blade and whack the goon with it.
    She tucked the wimple into her belt and left the bathroom. The garden sounded like a good idea. It was October and already a chilly one, but the paths were smoothand wide and she didn’t need dozens of blooming roses to soothe her spirit.
    She paused at the top of the cellar stairs and wondered about the advisability of leaving her CD player down there. She shook her head and turned away before she could give it any more thought. It was stuck behind a suit of armor and wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, she just wasn’t up to facing that dark pit again. Maybe one of Lord Henry’s staff could retrieve it for her later.
    She turned and made her way to the gallery where she’d left the tourists reeling from her ride on Archie’s shoulder. Large French doors opened onto the garden at the end of the room. Jessica started toward them purposefully, fully intending to ignore all Lord Henry’s treasures.
    But, in spite of herself, she found herself pausing in front of the painting of Burwyck-on-the-Sea.
    The view was from the sea. The water churned ferociously against the stone foundations of the castle. At one corner of the castle a large round tower sat atop the rocks, looking almost as if it had grown out of them. The castle might have been comfortably large, but Jessica suspected it was very drafty and quite chilly.
    It was definitely not the place for her.
    She walked away quickly. What she needed was some fresh air and then maybe a return to her room for some hot chocolate enjoyed behind a locked door. She opened one of the French doors and stepped out into the evening air.
    She pulled the door shut behind her, leaned back against it, and took a deep breath. The sun was setting, the air was still and thick, and for the first time in days she felt herself start to relax.
    She needed a vacation from her life,
sans
Mr. Stafford III and his hoisting ways. She’d secretly been hoping the trip to England would give her a chance to get some perspective on the Big Picture. She’d envisioned some free time spent holed up in her room, again
sans
Mr. Stafford III, sorting out her innermost goals and desires. She’dbeen certain cucumber sandwiches would have aided her greatly in coming up with just what was missing.
    She wrapped her arms around herself and wandered down the path through the manicured bushes. Maybe it was all much simpler than she wanted to believe. It was true that she had a wonderful career as composer-in-residence at a small, exclusive university, she had a great sublet in Manhattan, and she still had her high-school waistline.
    But what she didn’t have was a family of her own.
    She stopped suddenly as she caught sight of a statue to her left. Some ancestor of heroic proportions stared down at her from his perch atop a marble horse. His features were fixed in an eternal sneer.
    “Well,” she said defensively, “marriage
is
the natural state of man.”
    He remained seemingly unimpressed.
    “Ben Franklin said so,” she added.
    The statue refrained from comment. Jessica shrugged and continued on her way. That had been her father’s favorite saying and his marriage to her mother had been proof of it. They’d been happy and fulfilled, so much so that her mother still seemed sustained by that happiness, even though Jessica’s father