I pay with my own coin before leaving the shop, the dyed yarn inside the haversack that has become a constant go-between for Abraham and me. It would make the most sense to return home and pass the wool off later, and yet I can’t quite resist the chance to see him now.
Knowing he’ll be at the stables, I walk in that direction. The day is sunny yet mild. Cooler weather will be upon us shortly, and, after that, snow. The thought has worry taking hold inside my chest. It will be far more difficult to meet with Abraham once winter hits.
Surely, we’ll manage. Somehow, some way.
The stables are busy today, a carriage setting off and another gentleman leaving on horseback. I slow near the entrance, watching as Victor walks away before glancing inside. My excitement ratchets when I see no one but Abraham.
I slink inside the wide doorway, walking quickly out of sight to the corner where Abraham stowed me the day we first met. Hopefully, Victor’s business will keep him for a minute.
“Abe,” I whisper.
He comes around the corner, head cocked, his eyes going wide when he sees me. He darts a look around. “Jasper? Are you well?”
“Yes, certainly. I have your mother’s wool.”
He lets out a breath, sounding both relieved and worried. “Jasper, you shouldn’t keep coming like this. We need to be more careful.”
I frown. “It hasn’t been a problem before.”
“No, but if you keep returning here without business, someone is bound to notice.”
He’s right. I know he is. But it’s difficult to stay away.
“Well, then, be quick,” I say, holding out the haversack. “Give me a kiss, and I’ll be off.”
Abraham’s expression is one of chastisement, but there’s a glint in his eye that assures me he’s not truly upset. He walks my way, backing me against a wooden stall, his presence all-encompassing, the brown of his eyes a comfort I never knew I was missing before I met him.
The kiss isn’t hurried, even as it’s short. Abraham stretches a single second into many, and I swear I can see it. The life we could have together.
If only things were different.
All too soon, his lips leave mine, and he steps back, loosing the haversack from my fingers. “A debt paid.”
I let out a quiet laugh, moving from the shadows as Abraham tosses the sack over his shoulder. “Until we meet again, my warrior.”
This time, it’s Abraham chuckling, the soft sound accompanying me through the doors. I pass Victor not far from the stables, and I say a quiet prayer of thanks our paths didn’t cross sooner.
The walk home is pleasant enough, but the moment I step inside, I come to a halt. There are voices I don’t recognize.
Catherine must have heard me arrive because she appears quickly, ushering me down the hall to my bedchamber. “I’ve set out a basin for you,” she says, pushing me inside the room. “Wash up. Quick. You’ve company.”
“Who?” I ask, bewildered.
Catherine sets her jaw. “A young woman your mother and father wish for you to court.”
My chest falls away from me. “Catherine…”
“I know you’re not ready,” she says at a hush. “But you have no choice in this. Wash quickly and meet them in the parlor.”
I nod, and Catherine closes my door, leaving me alone. My hands shake as I loosen my waistcoat, setting it aside before removing my shirt. I feel chilled to the bone, my heart racing.
I wash my face and neck in the basin, the water cool. My reflection wavers on the surface, the Jasper I see looking at me with pity in his eyes.
After drying myself, I re-dress, check that my clothes are in fine shape, and exit the room. Voices drift lightly from the parlor as I walk closer, dread trying to weigh my feet to the floor. Despite every instinct screaming at me to stay away, torun, I step into the room.
“Jasper,” my mother says, spotting me and standing. “There you are at last. Come. Have a seat.”
I approach the empty chair beside my mother. My father watches on with a stern expression, the room deathly quietapart from the soft scuff of my shoes on the rug. No one says a word until I’m seated, and then my father clears his throat.
