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“A gentleman cannot end an engagement,” said Miss Moran. “That is ruinous to a lady’s reputation.”
“Be quiet, Sarah!” said Harriet.
Jack set his jaw. Even now, he could not do that to her. “I suppose you must do it then.”
“I had planned to…”
“So all is going as you wished. My felicitations.” He gathered the rags of his dignity and marched out.
***
Silence fell over the parlor. No one spoke for quite a time, in case he returned again. Finally, Sarah rose and shut the door. Charlotte said, “That didn’t go very well.”
Harriet was clenching her jaw so hard, it hurt. She’d been witless, idiotic. Why hadn’t she explained? The hurt in his eyes had cut her to the quick and rendered her silent. “I must go after him,” she said, rising.
The parlor door opened again, and they all jumped. But Harriet’s grandfather, not Ferrington, stood there. “The ballroom is ready at last,” he said. “Come and see. Where is Linny?”
“There was some question in the kitchen,” replied Sarah. She and Charlotte were watching Harriet with concern.
Harriet’s grandfather made an impatient gesture. “Typical, she is never around when wanted. But never mind. You will do. Come along and let us talk about the decorations for the ball. Linny’s ideas are too plain.”
“P-perhaps a bit later, Grandfather,” Harriet tried. “I must go and…”
“Nonsense!” he snapped. “There’s nothing more important than this. Come along!” He chivied them out with an unanswerable scowl.
Thirteen
Jack noticed nothing of the sultry summer day on his march back to Ferrington Hall. He entered through a side door and went up to his bedchamber, staying only long enough to throw off his borrowed garments and put on his own plainer clothes. It felt like resuming his own skin, or emerging from a failed disguise. He slipped out again without seeing the Terefords, though he passed one of the new housemaids in the hall.
He was glad not to see his noble guests. He wasn’t ready to tell them what had occurred. In fact, he thought as he strode through the garden, there was no need to inform them at all. The false nature of his engagement was none of their business. The thing would limp on for a bit. Harriet would break it off, and if they wanted reasons, they could askher. No one need know about the plans falling about his ears or the bitter unhappiness in his breast. Indeed, wasn’t it time for the duke and duchess to depart? All this talk of acceptance and friendship seemed to be a sham when it came down to it.
That idea brought a picture of an emptier home and himself rattling around within it. His vision of a new family filling the place with happiness shriveled and died, and his mood darkened further.
He’d had no particular goal in mind, but he found his feet taking him to the Travelers’ camp.
The scatter of caravans and tents remained just the same. The horses had been moved to fresh pasture. A man coming from the meadow with a brace of rabbits raised his hand in greeting. Another, chopping wood, nodded as Jack passed. A woman tending a pot hung over a fire greeted him with a smile. Once, he had been part of these daily rhythms. Yet he hadn’t really been one of them. Here, too, he’d lived on the margins. Tolerated? Was that to be his eternal fate? He noticed some Travelers were packing items away in wooden crates and bundles.
Samia came running up to him. The tiny girl wore a pink dress today, which made her cheeks looks rosier against the sweep of her dark hair. “Good day to you…my lord,” she said.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Mistress Elena said…”
“She is correct, as always. But I still don’t like it.” He noticed two youths folding up a small tent. “Are you leaving?” he asked.
Samia shrugged. “In a few days. Mistress Elena will know when it feels right to go.” She spoke as if this was commonplace.
Jack walked faster. Samia danced along beside him. He found the wizened old woman in her customary place, at the back of her painted caravan. She sat in the open doorway under the carved overhang, her feet on the lowest step. The kerchief that hid her hair was embroidered with poppies. “Are you going?” he repeated. “I thought you would spend the summer here.”
“The countryside in its beauty calls to us,” she answered. “You know we like to move.”
“But you’re welcome on my land. More than you might be elsewhere.”
Mistress Elena gazed up at him. “We have used much of the downed wood and the rabbits. We do not care to take too much from a place.”
Jack had no answer for that.
“We are tired of those men and their muttering, too.” She gestured toward the border with Winstead Hall land with one gnarled hand.
