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“Excellent,” Stephen said. “I’ve sent an invitation round to Kirby Hall. Once they’ve replied, I’ll have my housekeeper procure a roast.”

“Capital.”

“I suppose Lady Selina will come, as well,” Stephen said, smiling.

“I don’t see why Lord and Lady Kirby would leave her behind,” Jasper replied.

“No, no—of course not. She has the most fascinating stories,” Stephen pointed out.

“She does, indeed.”

“I daresay, she would never consent to remain out here, though,” Stephen went on.

Jasper had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. His dearest friend, also enamored with Lady Selina! He considered what Stephen had just said—it was something that he had never stopped to consider.

“Well, I suppose you never know,” he mused. “She does seem to truly love London.” Her father’s estate was a few hours’ ride from London. Lady Selina had once said that it was particularly convenient. He hadn’t considered how she might not want to be nearly two days’ ride from the City.

“Indeed. Well, I’ll be honest, I would like to become better acquainted with her,” Stephen said, reaching out and toying with the brim of his hat.

Jasper smiled at his friend, even though he felt suddenly anxious. Stephen, of course, was the only one of the two of them who was free to court Lady Selina.

“You never know,” Jasper replied, recalling how she’d been so content just that morning by the World Tree. “After all, the country here is quiet and lovely—it has its charms.”

Stephen nodded, his face a grim mask.

Jasper didn’t know what to say. He always told Stephen everything. He hadn’t told Stephen about his meetings with the lady, or even his feelings for her, which she had seemed to return. Nor, did it seem, he should.

* * *

Selina wrote a letter to her brother, asking him if it was at all possible for her to join him up in the North. She didn’t tell him specifics, only that she needed to leave Kirby Hall. Thomas would understand. He wouldn’t press her for details until he saw her.

Selina sat at the writing-table in her room, staring out the window. Inside of her, there was such chaos and confusion. She knew that she needed to go, yet found herself unable to leave.

All she needed to do was ring the bell, then place the letter into Wickes’ hands.

Instead, she slipped the letter inside of the top drawer of the writing table, without sending it. She stared out the window where a small grey bird flew past. She wondered what it would be like to be so free. She watched until the bird disappeared into the distance.

Not long after, Faith came in to assist her in dressing for dinner, not asking her about the letter. Selina didn’t know what to do—there was a part of her that didn’t want to leave. The other part of her was warning her to get out while she could.

When Selina entered the dining room, her aunt was glowing with excitement, likely fed by the success of Leah’s party and wedding preparations.

“You’ll never know who has just sent us an invitation, Selina dear,” Aunt Georgiana said.

“Who, Aunt?” she asked, seating herself at her usual place. She picked up the cloth napkin, shaking it out before smoothing it across her lap.

“Lord Sandbourne,” Aunt Georgiana said. “He’s invited us to dine tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, lovely!” Selina exclaimed, putting on a happy face. “Dear Lord Sandbourne. He’s such a kind gentleman.” It was easy enough to pretend. She did like Lord Sandbourne—he was always so friendly.

“Oh, yes. You’ll love his estate,” Aunt Georgiana gushed. “Sandbourne is a perfect little gem. Any lady would be glad to marry him.”

“Tell Lord Sandbourne that,” Leah said archly, taking a sip of her wine. “He’s always very polite, to everyone, equally. I often thought that Papa would have me marry him. Although, he’s not as great a catch as my Duke.”

Selina felt she had to stick up for Lord Sandbourne. “Why not, Leah? What puts Lord Sandbourne at such a disadvantage?”

“He’s merely a Marquess, of course.” Leah smiled at her, smugly.

Selina let out a breath, softly—so as not to draw any attention. “Poor Lord Sandbourne,” she said, her eyes on her place setting, where the silverware was neatly arranged. She touched a finger to a fork. “Only a Marquess.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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