“Why?” Jane frowned.
After all, he seems rather determined to do exactly as he pleases, and it is clear that he loves his bird deeply.
“You are rather inquisitive for such an early hour.” Blake let out a yawn and shook his head. He began to walk towards the castle, and Jane walked with him.
“So will you answer my question?” she asked after several moments of silence.
An odd, pained look crossed Blake’s face, and he said, “My father forbade me to keep a bird.”
“Why?” Jane furrowed her brow.
“He felt that it was a women’s pastime and that it would put my health at risk for no real benefit.” Blake waved a hand dismissively, but the tension in his shoulders belied his casual tone.
“That is ridiculous.” Jane scowled, indignation flowing through her. “How can something be too womanlyanda risk to your health? Surely it is one or the other!”
Blake shrugged, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I think he feared that such ‘womanly’ pursuits would make me weak, and therefore more susceptible to bouts of malaise and other such things.”
“But falconry is hardly a ‘womanly’ pursuit.” Jane was utterly baffled.
Most of the falconers she knew were men, and almost all of them were landed gentry.
“I think it is because I pointed out several queens who had enjoyed the sport. I thought perhaps royal approval might convince him to allow me to pursue falconry.” Blake gave the same oddly detached smile. “I would agree. In general, I do not truly believe in womanly or manly pursuits. There are simply pursuits, and anyone should be able to do whatever they like.”
“That is a rather hedonistic approach to such things.” Jane frowned at him.
“Is it? I am not suggesting one pursue such things to excess, simply that people are given the chance to do what brings them joy. Would it not be better to live in a world where you are not forbidden from pursuing certain interests simply because of your sex?”
Blake’s blue eyes met hers. In the daylight, they reminded Jane of the sky or a still lake in the depths of winter. For a moment, she was almost too distracted to respond.
She took a steadying breath and looked away from him. “In an ideal world, I suppose one would be encouraged to pursue their interests regardless of their sex.”
“Exactly. Why should a man not try his hand at embroidery if he fancies it?”
“Do you wish to embroider, Your Grace?” Jane teased.
“I might, if you are willing to teach me.” He gave her his familiar wolfish grin, and she laughed.
“And what if I do not care to teach you?” she asked.
“Then I suppose I shall be thwarted at the start.” The Duke gave a theatrical sigh and glanced around. “And on that note, I feel I must take my leave of you. I see Miss Minton and Glassbury walking towards us, and it is far too early in the morning for such expressions of deep romantic entanglement.”
The Duke bowed to Jane and disappeared right as Cressida and Richard rounded the corner. Before Jane could say anything, Cressida had exclaimed with delight at something Richard had done.
As she watched her friend gently hold her betrothed’s hand, an unfamiliar feeling washed over her.
Longing.
ChapterEighteen
A Quiet Moment
“The Dowager Duchess of Caden requests your presence, Your Grace,” the steward said, bowing as he delivered the news.
Blake frowned. His mother—or rather, his stepmother, though he thought of her as his mother—was supposed to be at his estate in the North. He had not expected to see her, but he was far from upset at the unexpected visit.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“She is waiting in the gardens. She said that the day was too lovely to stay inside.”
