We swim for quite some time. Jasper tells me more about Catherine. About her goodness and how he wishes this life were different for her. For all of us. He tells me about his father and the subtle edge of control that’s a constant threat, a sharpened knife at the edge of Jasper’s throat he has no choice but to obey. He tells me about his mother. How he knows she loves him, but she isn’t kind. Not like she could be.
And I tell him more about my own mother, the only family I have left. How her days are spent at home, alternating between her bed and the chair that overlooks the only window to outside. How I’m trying my best to keep us fed. Keep her alive. He doesn’t say it, but I can see the guilt in Jasper’s eyes when I share this, and I wish I could clear it away.
We end up on the grassy shore after our swim, baking in the sun. Jasper’s hair curls against his forehead, the strandsblowing in the breeze as they dry. His breeches sit tight against his form, and more than once, I have to draw my gaze away.
“Have you ever wondered what happens when we die?”
Jasper’s question is so unexpected on the heels of his tale about a stray tabby cat he used to sneak scraps to when he was young that it takes me a moment to answer. “The church would have us believe Heaven or Hell.”
His head shifts my way, blue eyes seemingly trying to read me. “You don’t think so?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “I do not.”
“What do you believe?”
I ease out a breath. “There is so much in this world that is unknown to me. Places I will never see. Concepts I will never understand. But I cannot bring myself to believe there’s one governing body who decides the fate of all mortal men on this earth. The will of man is great. And no matter the circumstances under which we are born and die, if I didn’t believe us capable of commandeering our own fate, I would have nothing to fight for.”
Jasper watches me for the longest time. He doesn’t shy away, and I relish every heartbeat in which his eyes hold mine. “I want to believe what you do.”
“You can.”
“You make me think that’s true.”
No, I will not be able to resist Jasper Sinclair for long.
Jasper turns his gaze up toward the clouds, letting out a resigned sigh. “I must go. Will we do this again?”
“If you wish it.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
Jasper’s smile is warm. “Then we will. Next Sunday?”
I nod, and he reaches for his shirt before standing. We dress beside one another, Jasper in his fancy shoes, my toes digging into the dirt.
In a world of my making, I would clasp Jasper behind his neck and offer my lips to his.
In this world, we bid each other goodbye. And I watch as he walks slowly toward his home, dreaming of a time when his footsteps might draw near instead.
Chapter 3
Jasper
My mother is determined to thwart my plans, not that she knows it. She keeps me busy for hours, preparing trunks for our trip in less than a week’s time. Catherine seems to be the only one who notices my desire to get away.
“What are you up to?” she asks the moment my mother is out of sight.
Catherine’s condition has improved steadily over the past many days, much to my relief. Her ailment has eased to the point where she’s back at her tasks, although her cough remains.
I debate lying to her for all of a second, not wanting to draw attention to my mission to sneak off. But if anyone would understand my newfound friendship with Abraham, it would be Catherine. She wouldn’t judge me for it. That much I know.
“I wish to see a friend,” I tell her, checking the doorway for my mother.
“Someone I know?”
I shake my head.
