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My heroine moved to Barnsley Cross to hide from the world. However, the residents keep calling on her, encouraging her to step outside and experience life.

“Are you coming tonight?”
Not you too! Maida resisted the urge to blow out a breath of frustration. The topic of her attendance at the assembly had opened a flood of inquiries after she made her first appearance in church—heavily veiled—the previous day. With her housekeeper and son by her side, Maida had dodged most of the questions thrown at her. It helped to sit at the back of the church since she had not purchased a box pew.
“No. I came to Barnsley Cross to live quietly. I’ve no desire to socialize in such a manner.” That ought to do it.
“You must! It’s why we’re so famous, don’t you know. You cannot have come to reside here only to hide. That would be ridiculous!” Susanna bundled in with a tea tray, which gave Maida time to formulate a better-reasoned argument. Before she could respond, her guest said, “Have you heard about our newcomer, Mr. de Courcy?”
She stopped with her mouth open, closed it, and shook her head. “No. Who is he?” Maida passed Miss Crenshaw a cup.
Two hands rose in the air as the teacup on its saucer tilted on her plump lap. “My dear! He is the most delicious thing! I just know some young thing here will snatch him up before he leaves at the end of the summer. He is handsome and rich. Such a combination!”
“I am unlikely to meet him. I only want a quiet life now that I’m on the shelf and have no desire to dance.”
The hands lowered, and Miss Crenshaw picked up her teacup. “Of course, I would wish him to fall in love with Amaryllis. She’s … overly young. Helena coddled her. The late Mr. Wright was a wastrel and didn’t set things up well. But my sister had to marry him.” She clucked her tongue. “All water under the bridge. But when you marry, make sure you have someone looking out for your interests.”
“Aren’t you listening? I do not plan to wed.”
“My dear, you’re still young, pretty enough. And have money?” Alberta Crenshaw’s head tilted in a welcoming gesture. Maida got the idea that she had one ear that heard better than the other.
“I do. Now that I’m past twenty-five,” she hoped that detail shocked her visitor. “I can control it for the most part. It’s sufficient that I don’t need marriage or a husband.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing!”
What do you know about married life? Was Miss Crenshaw hinting at a previous love affair and inviting Maida to delve into her past? She shuddered, not wanting to learn if Miss Crenshaw had an illicit past.
“I am happy here with the cottage your brother leased me.”
The older woman thrust her empty teacup towards her. “Let me tell you about Mr. de Courcy. He’s delicious, like a dessert. I could eat him up if I weren’t old enough to be his mother. He has chocolate-brown hair and these dark, expressive eyebrows. Every time he looks at me, I go all bubbly in here.” The spinster tapped her ample bosom. “But his eyes aren’t the deep, soulless type, but soft. Like you’re holding a little puppy on your lap and pull it up against your chest because the radiance overwhelms you.”
“Why did you never marry, Miss Crenshaw?”
Her shoulders sagged. “Malcolm needed me. He insisted on never taking a wife. It’s my belief that your aunt broke his heart, and he wouldn’t have any other woman. At least, he never showed much interest in women besides Rae Harwood.”
“I didn’t know that!” Various scenarios ran through her head, hints her aunt had dropped about a great past love.
“But Bartholomew de Courcy. Funny name, but so devastatingly handsome. Malcolm hired him to map the woods, so he tromps around with these poles and wires and takes measurements. Mind you, don’t be scared if you decide to stroll there and suddenly encounter a man. That’ll be him. Of course, his beauty will blind you! That’s an exquisite picture there, above the mantle. Is that you and … a brother?”
Alberta Crenshaw rambled so much; she missed Maida spilling tea as she refilled their cups.
It’s him! This Bartholomew is the man who saw me.