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“I just hoped it would be one who was free to love me in return,” Selina sobbed.
“Love is funny like that, My Lady,” Faith said. “I’ve only just finished that one Shakespeare play.”
Selina, despite her tears, laughed at that. “Please tell me you’re talking ofAMidsummer Night’s Dream.”
“No, My Lady! I’m talking ofRomeo and Juliet.”
“Dear God, Faith, that’s a tragedy!”
“But they fell in love with the absolute most difficult person, My Lady, just like you and the Duke.” Faith handed her a clean handkerchief, which she dabbed at her eyes with.
“I suppose you’re right, Faith. ‘Star-crossed lovers’ is the term they use.” She thought for a few moments, tapping her foot in agitation. “Come, Faith,” she said. “I think a walk would suit me just fine.”
* * *
Beneath him, Pilot was loping along at an easy, rolling canter. Jasper could feel the horse’s muscles, straining slightly. Jasper surveyed the land around his own estate, soon leaving the rolling pastures when he reached the road. His main objective was to see if he saw anyone suspicious out on the roads.
Perhaps, a certain lady would be out, as well. His pulse raced as he considered meeting her out walking again.
He slowed Pilot to a walk, so he could get a good look at anyone that he passed. As he rode, his thoughts were on Lady Selina, as they often were these days.
He was fearful for her safety, with the men who had robbed the Mortons out there, still free. He considered the possibility of at least one of them being of noble blood. He couldn’t think of anyone of his acquaintance who would do something of the sort.
Jasper’s pulse raced as he neared the drive which led to Kirby Hall. He had a very strong hunch that she would take another walk—since she’d said the other day that she would not meet him.
Turning Pilot instead through the greenway, which led in between Lord Kirby’s pastures. He touched his heels to Pilot’s sides, urging him into a brisk trot.
The pastures were filled—several of Lord Kirby’s mares had recently foaled, and were out grazing, with their leggy little offspring darting about beside them.
Jasper wasn’t surprised when he saw two bonneted heads, rising above the zenith of a hill. He brought Pilot to a full stop, getting down. He slipped the reins over the horse’s head, then marched over to Lady Selina and her maid.
She spotted him, her smile fading. He wondered what could be wrong?
“We meet again, My Lady,” he said.
Her eyes lowered to her hands, covered by soft kid gloves. She tugged at one of the fingers. “So we do, Your Grace,” she replied. She looked up, giving him a rueful half-smile.
What is she thinking? What’s wrong?
Recalling that she’d left the parlor the other night, he wondered if she was feeling ill.
“Are you well, My Lady?” he asked, watching as her mask suddenly went up—she smiled serenely, but it didn’t make it into her eyes like it did when she meant it. The light that he’d seen there had been extinguished, and he wanted to know why.
“Yes, Your Grace. Very well. Are you? Well?” she asked, all reserved politeness, where before, she’d been so open.
“Certainly. Thank you, My Lady.” He fell into step beside her. “Where are you headed?”
She pointed, to the large, ancient-looking tree that was just ahead of them, in the middle of a pasture. “We were going to see that,” she replied. “My Uncle calls it the World Tree. I haven’t seen it since I was here five years ago.”
“It’s a monstrosity,” he murmured. He’d certainly seen it before but had never stopped to observe it.
“Yes. It is that, Your Grace.”
Remembering his manners, he asked, “Could I accompany you, My Lady?”
“Do I have a choice, Your Grace?” she asked, her eyes on the tree.
“Not at all, My Lady,” he replied. “Chivalry dictates that I do so.”
