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She laughed airily. “That’s not chivalry, Your Grace.”
“There are brigands about, My Lady, and I worry about your safety.” It was the truth.
She studied him closely. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Jasper tethered Pilot to the fence post, then opened the gate, holding it for Lady Selina and her maid to pass.
She was silent, as they left the little greenway in between the pastures, walking through the bright-green grassy field. The sun was high overhead, and there was a gentle breeze, which stirred the grass.
He waited for her to say something.
* * *
Selina had come out to get away from the wedding preparations, only to run into the groom himself. It was not quite the escape that she’d planned, but the Duke was determined to join them.
As they neared the ancient evergreen tree, she looked up and into its branches. It was nearly fifty feet tall. Its trunk was wide—big enough to fit a small cottage inside of. It looked the same as the last time that she’d seen it, as a young lady of twelve. She herself had changed so much since then.
She placed her hand on the dark, damp bark. Soft, green moss coated the side. She looked up into the branches, which were laden with smooth green needles.
The beauty of it filled her, like fresh, cold water being poured into a glass. Even the air around the World Tree seemed fresher.
“How many people, do you think, have stood here, like this?” she wondered aloud. “Looking up into the branches?”
“Very many, I suppose,” the Duke replied. She glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at the tree—he was studying her, closely.
She turned to Faith, who was watching everything. Her face gave away none of her thoughts. It was a relief that she was there, to observe quietly—to stop anything further from happening. Selina had noticed how easy it was for her to let propriety slip around the Duke of Gillingham.
Selina turned back to the Duke.
“I imagine they all had lives of their own,” she mused. “Lived, loved, and then died.” The thought gave her shivers. A long parade of visitors, coming to see the tree, which changed little while they lived their entire lives.
“Indeed,” the Duke replied, clearing his throat. He seemed like he was about to ask her something, frowning deeply, but then he thought better of it, rearranging his features into a smile. Selina smiled back at him.
“I find peace, out in nature,” she said, trying to keep him on a neutral subject. Just being near him, and knowing that he could never be hers was causing a sharp pain in her chest, in the space underneath her sternum. She swallowed, her throat feeling a bit tight.
“Do you, My Lady?”
“I do, Your Grace,” she said. “Do you not?”
“The country is where I feel most at peace,” he replied.
Selina nodded. This time, however, it wasn’t true—inside, she was all chaos. A tower of cards, all falling to the ground after the Duke had knocked it over.
* * *
Once they had seen the tree, the two of them began to walk back, through the fields, Lady Selina’s maid trailing behind them, as silent as a shadow. They paused by the pasture gate, stopping to get Pilot, then making their way along the greenway, which led them in a gently winding route, back to Kirby Hall.
Lady Selina was quiet and pensive. He wondered what the matter could be. It wasn’t like her not to have a steady stream of flowing conversation.
“How went the dress fitting and tea, this morning?” he asked.
“As well as could be expected, Your Grace.”
Jasper paused. When he turned toward her, Lady Selina looked sad, her brows furrowed as she looked down at her hands, which she held clasped in front of her.
“Are you sure you’re well, My Lady?” he asked. “You’re very quiet.”
She looked at him, smiling half-heartedly. “I am, Your Grace.” Although Jasper couldn’t tell which she was responding to—that she was well, or that she was quiet.
