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Selina was sitting in her room, attempting to read a book. She sat in an armchair. The windows were open to allow the morning breeze in. Her eyes stared at the page, but her mind was elsewhere. She wondered what the Duke was up to. She knew that he would send for her, eventually. And then, she would have to figure out a way to get him word.
There was a knock on the door. Faith answered.
Selina knew before Faith walked over, that she carried a letter. She sighed, looking up from her book.
Sure enough, Faith was thrusting a letter in her direction. Her face was grimly set, her eyes mournful. Selina took the letter, looking down at the now-familiar hand of the Duke.
She turned it over, breaking the wax seal with his coat of arms pressed into it. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she read it through.
Darling, I can barely stand being apart from you. Come meet me by the tree? All my love,
J.
She sat frozen, the letter in her lap. Her pulse raced, and her stomach flipped. She didn’t know how to get a letter to him. He would be out there and waiting for her. And she could never show up.
“There’s nothing to be done,” Selina said, at last, looking at Faith, who was standing next to her.
“I can go and tell him,” Faith offered.
Selina took her hand in her own. “You dear thing. No. Absolutely not. I won’t have you walking alone when there’s a murderer out.”
“He’s after ladies,” Faith said stoutly.
Selina shook her head. “I won’t have it. Your safety is as important to me as my own. Jasper will have to figure it out on his own.” She gritted her teeth as she thought of him, standing beneath the tree, waiting for her.
She sat staring at his letter, wanting him desperately. It was like there was a line, which led from his heart to hers, and it was being tugged, violently.
“I want to go,” she mused. “But I can’t.”
She stood, refolding the sheet of paper as she walked over to her writing-table. She set it in the drawer, along with the other. She would keep them forever. She closed the drawer.
She began pacing, keeping herself occupied. Faith had returned to the closet, where she was tidying up Selina’s wardrobe.
As she paced, Selina placed her hands on her waist— her corset felt too tight. Her skin tingled with desire. She hated the idea that he was standing there and waiting for her. When had things gotten out of her own control? How had she gotten here?
“My Lady?” Faith asked. She was watching her, concern in her gaze.
“Well, you can’t expect me to sit,” Selina said. “I haven’t been for a walk today.”
“How about you take a walk through the gallery, My Lady?” Faith suggested. “Stretch your legs a bit.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Selina walked to the door, grateful to have something to do to keep her occupied. She walked downstairs, waving to Wickes as she passed him.
“Afternoon, My Lady,” he said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wickes.”
“Where are you off to?” he asked, arching his brow. She knew that he’d seen the letter and had received his marching orders from her uncle.
“Down to the Gallery,” she said stoutly. “I need a bit of a walk.”
“Very good, My Lady.” He inclined his head to her.
Feeling as though her every move was being watched, she walked straight there, ambling down the carpeted hallway lined with lush oil paintings. She stopped to look at them, one by one.
When she glanced back the way that she’d come, she spotted Mr. Wickes, standing there, making sure that she wasn’t attempting to sneak out. She waved to him, then returned her eyes to the still life of a ceramic bowl of fruit.
She thought of the day when she’d run toward him, the way that he’d looked at her. She closed her eyes, picturing Jasper, and the way that he’d looked at her with longing.
