Page 40 of Waiting for Love

“It is either go riding or go mad,” she said, in the face of her maid’s disapproval.

The house was eerily silent. When Olivia entered the dimly lit breakfast parlor, warm pelisse slung over her arm and hat in hand, she saw only one corner lamp burning. But the room wasn’t empty. Jasper stood beside the buffet. He held himself stiffly and sipped from a teacup. Tea, not his usual coffee. And the food on the buffet was untouched.

“How are you?” she asked in a whisper.

He made a sour face. His temples had a pinched look. She supposed he hadn’t slept.

“Will Vanessa be ready for visitors this morning?”

“I don’t think so.” He looked her up and down. “It is raining out.”

“Not hard.”

“Olivia.” Then he shook his head. “Just be careful.”

He set his cup down and walked from the room.

There was no reason to sit alone in a half-darkened room, so she took a piece of toast for her walk to the stables. When she stepped outside, into air that was misty and cold but without actual precipitation, she was surprised to see Benjamin on the path. He was trudging as if pulling a heavy sledge. Rather than follow twenty-paces behind, she called out, “Benjamin! Wait a moment.” She walked quickly to catch up.

“Lady Olivia.” He tipped his hat but didn’t remove it. “You shouldn’t be riding in this.”

“I thought Jasper was silly for reminding me to be careful, but at least he didn’t tell me not to ride.”

He set his jaw but didn’t respond. She saw the same headachey pinched appearance on his face that had been on Jasper’s. The same ashen pallor.

“Ah,” she said, with a bit of a smile. “You had a chance to speak with him last night?”

He nodded.

“Good. I’m glad. He must have needed a friend.”

He didn’t respond to that either. But when she started to walk, he fell into step alongside.

“Where are you off to?” she asked. “The cottage?”

“The village. The earl asked me to speak with Mr. Leighton.”

Olivia put her hand on his arm and halted. “Please stop that. I am still Olivia, and the earl is still Jasper. You are being ridiculous.”

“It’s only proper—”

She flung out her arm. “There is no one for miles around!”

He stiffened. “Which makes propriety even more necessary.” Then his face flushed, and he closed his mouth tight as though he regretted the words. If she were counting clues, that would be one. He didn’t trust himself alone with her. But there were a hundred alternative explanations.

She resumed walking. “Are you to arrange a funeral? Is that why you are going to see Mr. Leighton?”

“A private burial. On Chaumbers’ grounds. The earl says Lady Iversley does not want this to become publicly known. She wishes no callers or cards.”

“I can understand that. She hasn’t had time to become acquainted with anyone beyond family. She shouldn’t have to share her pain with strangers.”

His head cocked to the side as he regarded her. “That is…perceptive. I wonder… Who she could share with? Besides the earl, I mean.” He hesitated. “He is carrying his own grief.”

Oh, poor Jasper. “Fortunately, he had you. He must have needed to talk.”

Benjamin grimaced. “We drank a vat.”

“I thought you might have. What did you talk about?”