But Robert would want word that the silver font was secured, and Jasper had no wish to appear idle when entrusted with the matter. With a faint sigh, he swung himself into the saddle, the leather creaking under his weight.
He cast one last glance over the square, which was quiet still, not yet dressed in the full colors of the market day. Then, he set his heels to his horse’s flanks. The animal moved forward at a steady trot, its hooves striking the cobbles with measured rhythm.
The village slipped behind him, fields stretching out beneath the broad sweep of sky. Jasper kept his gaze fixed ahead, telling himself it was only right to return promptly.
And if there lingered the faintest whisper of disappointment at having no reason to tarry, he pushed it down with practiced ease.
“But what if we were to find jet beads?” Cordelia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as the carriage jolted over the rutted road. “They would gleam like midnight fire against the grey, I am certain of it.”
“And silver thread to scatter light across the bodice,” Hazel added, more measured, but no less enthusiastic. “It need not be ostentatious, Matilda. A few careful stitches could transform the gown entirely.”
Evelyn leaned forward from her seat beside her sister, her hand warm upon Matilda’s arm. “Or pearls,” she said, her smile tender. “I can just see them, like drops of dew upon morning silk.”
Matilda laughed then, startled by the rush of affection and excitement pressing in from every side. “I beg you, do not make me the envy of every lady in attendance. This is your child’s baptism, Evelyn. You are the duchess, the mother of the hour. I should never wish to outshine you, nor could I, even if I tried.”
Evelyn’s green eyes softened further, brimming with that particular brand of love that always left Matilda undone. “You will not outshine me, dearest. You will shine in your own right, like a star that has been hidden too long, only waiting for its moment.”
The words pierced through Matilda’s heart, so tender they nearly undid her composure. For years she had felt herself shadowed, diminished, an afterthought in every room. To hear Evelyn speak so, with no envy, no censure, only love… it was almost too much.
Cordelia clapped her hands together, her bracelets jingling. “Yes, precisely! A star! Let us make her so dazzling that even the chandeliers of the ballroom will be put to shame.”
Hazel gave a small, indulgent shake of her head, though her lips curved in fond amusement. “You exaggerate, Cordelia. Still,” she glanced at Matilda with kindness in her eyes. “I do confess theidea pleases me. It is long past time you allowed yourself a little sparkle.”
Matilda lowered her gaze to her lap, though a smile touched her lips despite her best effort to suppress it. To be fussed over, to be cared for so warmly, filled her with something she had not felt in years—anticipation.
That was when the carriage jolted once, twice, and then gave a most dreadful lurch before groaning to a stop.
Cordelia yelped and clutched Hazel’s arm. “Good heavens! Have we been attacked?”
“No highwayman would dare in broad daylight,” Hazel said firmly, though she grasped the side of the carriage with a frown.
The driver’s voice came from outside. “Beg pardon, ladies. If you’d step down, I fear there’s trouble.”
They descended in a flurry of skirts and shawls, Matilda blinking at the sun as the driver crouched near the wheel.
“What is it?” Evelyn asked, gathering her pelisse about her.
“The axle,” the man said, running a hand along the wood. “It’s weakened, snapped clean through.”
“Can you mend it?” Hazel’s voice was brisk and practical.
He scratched his head. “Perhaps. If I can rig something to hold till we reach the village. But I’d not stake my life on it.”
Cordelia sighed dramatically. “So we are stranded, then. How romantic! If only a band of gallant knights would ride by.”
“Cordelia,” Hazel said dryly, “this is not Camelot.”
Matilda hid a smile behind her gloved hand. “If we cannot continue, then perhaps we might walk into town?” she suggested, though she suspected the answer.
The driver shook his head. “Too far, my lady. Three miles at least. Best to turn back to the manor on foot if you must be moving.”
Evelyn’s lips pressed together. “And lose the chance to find what we need for Matilda’s gown?”
Hazel folded her arms, practical as ever. “Well, what are we to do? Stand here until some passing cart takes pity? Wait to be rescued like helpless maidens in a tale?”
Cordelia’s eyes brightened with mischief. “That sounds rather diverting. I’ve always wanted to be rescued.”
Matilda rolled her eyes, though warmth crept into her chest at the absurdity of it all. “I am certain no knight will be galloping by today,” she said in a wry tone of voice.
