Page 14 of An Outlaw’s Desire

“No toads, I promise.” Blythe pulled her long braid over her left shoulder to inspect the ends of her hair. “I can tell you the surprise is connected to Christmas.”

Rosetta’s gaze sharpened. “You are not secretly betrothed, are you?”

“What? Nay!”

“Good. If you had that kind of surprise, I would be most upset you had not told me about your suitor before now.”

With a sigh, Blythe let go of her braid. “No suitor. No betrothed.”

“Not yet.” Rosetta set a pair of shoes into the travel chest. “We will discuss your situation—and the men I believe would be a fine match for you—once I am back within these walls.”

Blythe fought stirrings of regret. She’d found her perfect match years ago. If she could be granted a wish for herself this Christmastide, ’twould be to see Pitt again; to be in his arms and love him once more. But, after years of not hearing from him, of having to accept he was most likely dead, such a wish would be foolish, and so, she would consider Rosetta’s suggestions. “If I marry again,” she murmured, “I would like to wed for love.”

“If you marry again?”

“’Tis possible I shall remain a widow.”

“For your sake, I hope not. You are clever, beautiful, and deserve a full and fulfilling marriage.” A coy little sway to her strides, Rosetta returned to the chest.

Anguish and jealousy gnawed within Blythe. “Is being Ash’s wife all you expected?”

“I honestly have never been happier. He is….” Rosetta’s cheeks turned pink. “Wonderful. He makes me feel special and complete.”

Complete. That sounded much nicer than lonely and restless, as Blythe had been feeling lately.

Rosetta tapped her chin. “Gowns, shoes, an extra pair of gloves. What am I missing?”

A rap sounded on the door.

“Aye?” Rosetta called.

The door opened, and Lady Montgomery peered in. “May we come in?”

“We?” Rosetta asked, as a young girl also peeked in.

“Clarine!” Blythe had met the eight-year-old ward of Lord and Lady Montgomery’s at Rosetta’s wedding. They’d swiftly become close friends.

Clarine beamed, raced to the bed, and threw herself into Blythe’s arms. Closing her eyes, Blythe hugged the child and breathed in the scent of wintry air clinging to the girl’s hair and cloak. Blythe had never imagined feeling so much love for a child who wasn’t her own flesh and blood, but Clarine held a special place in her heart.

Lady Montgomery, wearing a silk gown the green of holly leaves, stepped into the chamber. “We just fed the birds in the garden some breadcrumbs.”

Clarine’s blue eyes shone. “There were a lot of birds, all over the snow.”

“How many?” Blythe asked.

“At least ten.”

Lady Montgomery hid a smile behind her age-spotted hand.

“Shall we keep feeding them while the others are away?” Blythe asked. “More birds might join us tomorrow.”

Clarine nodded.

“That sounds a wonderful idea.” Rosetta shut the lid of the chest. “I am finished packing for now. Justin can be a bit forgetful. He is but six years old, after all. I should go and check what he intends to take.”

“Ash and your father are downstairs by the hearth, reviewing the arrangements,” Lady Montgomery said.

“Thank you, Mother.”