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Now, of course, she wasn’t so sure. She had seen him embracing the maid, after all. Her eyes filled with sudden tears. The passion had been real for her, at least. She would always treasure the memory, even as she knew it could never happen again.
Would she ever be kissed in such a way again? Or was that the only time she would ever experience such longing and desire?
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of the tea service. As they sipped tea, she sat back, letting the conversation wash around her. The call had been arranged satisfactorily, and she was no longer required to participate. She tried to push the memory of the kiss away, but it was stubborn, flowing through her mind like a fast-flowing river, somehow more real than anything that was happening around her.
***
Jude whistled as he walked along the side of the house towards the carriage. The duke and his son were going for a quick trip to the village, and he was required to be on duty.
Suddenly, he pulled up short. The Lady Evelina was lingering near one of the kitchen garden beds, picking herbs, a pensive look upon her face. She hadn’t seen him.
Torn, he hesitated. He should just leave her be. She hadn’t seen him, and he needed to get to the carriage. He tried hard to recall his resolve to leave her alone, to stop stirring the pot.
But then he walked quickly towards her. He just needed to apologise to her about the kiss, to clear the air between them. That was all.
She had just picked a sprig of rosemary when she saw him. She stiffened, her face instantly clouding.
“Milady,” he said, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
“Jude,” she said, in an abrupt voice. “What can I do for you?”
He took a deep breath. She wasn’t happy with him. He didn’t blame her, of course. But it hurt, especially thinking about how she had blossomed beneath his lips the other night. How she had responded to him.
But that was then… and this was now. In the cold light of day, she was a lady, and he was just a servant.
“I just wanted to apologise,” he said quickly, his face burning. “About the other night.”
She flushed painfully, her pale face turning bright pink. She refused to meet his eye.
“We shall not mention it again,” she said eventually. “It was a moment of madness. That is all.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I hope I can trust you that you will not speak of it with anyone. That you will be discreet. I must think about my reputation.”
Jude’s heart twisted. Hehadspoken about it with someone, but he trusted Lenny. The gardener was a good man, and he counted him as a friend now. Jude knew he wouldn’t gossip about it.
“Your reputation will not be compromised,” he promised, feeling ashamed. “I vow it to you.”
“Good,” she said, raising her chin. “Is that all?”
“Aye,” he said, ducking his head, feeling ever more ashamed. “I am sorry to disturb you.”
She nodded, her face tight. The girl who had whispered her secrets to him, running her fingers along his scar before turning her sweet face up to his to be kissed, had vanished. She was the lady of the manor again now. She was putting him firmly in his place.
It hurt, even though he had expected it, and knew that it was the safest thing for both of them. He felt another pang of sorrow. It could all have been so different if they were social equals.
But they weren’t. And she was dismissing him. He bowed before turning and walking away.
The sorrow lingered as they headed out of Bosworth Manor in the carriage towards the village.
He would be wise to take Lenny’s advice and turn his attention to one of the local girls. And he would have his chance now that he had accepted Sally’s invitation to the local dance… so long as he could keep his distance from Sally.
He felt crushed. He didn’t want any woman but her. But he could never have her. That truth was absolute.
Chapter 15
Evelina adjusted her winter cloak as she walked alongside Mr Beaumont through the gardens, gazing at him covertly beneath the hood. She didn’t know what to say to him at all. They barely knew each other, really. She glanced quickly behind. Richard was trailing them at a discreet distance, acting as chaperone, although he didn’t seem to take his duty seriously.
Mr Beaumont had turned on the charm as soon as he had entered the house, rhapsodising over how lovely she looked, saying it had been too long since they had last talked. But she had watched his eyes as he spoke, and they had been hard and cold. She knew he wasn’t speaking the truth to her.
She studied him carefully. Mr Beaumont was a man of average height and build, with wavy brown hair and pale blue eyes. She knew that most people considered him handsome, and objectively he was. At least there was nothing offensive about his features.
