Hazel folded her arms, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement. “Because they thought it clever to dye the pond swans bright pink.”
Cordelia clapped her hands together, her laughter ringing like bells. “No!”
Evelyn gasped, pressing her gloved fingers to her lips, though her shoulders shook with suppressed mirth. “Surely not the swans?”
“Oh yes,” Hazel said grimly. “My mother nearly fainted when she saw the poor creatures gliding about the water, looking as though they had bathed in rosewater. Apparently, my sisters found some concoction at the apothecary in town and decided to test its properties. They claimed they were only conducting a harmlessexperiment in aesthetics.”
Jasper straightened fully, arms crossing over his chest, and Matilda could not help but notice the ripple of strength along his sleeves. His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but not disapproval either. “Pink swans,” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the words. “Well. That is… inventive.”
Hazel rolled her eyes heavenward. “It is reckless. They are confined at home until further notice.”
Cordelia was nearly doubled over with glee. “Oh, come now, Hazel dear. They are a delightful duo!”
“Delightful,” Hazel muttered. “They will be the death of me.”
Through it all, Jasper’s gaze lingered on Hazel with something like quiet amusement. He seemed genuinely interested. He didn’t seem to be feigning, nor playing, but actually listening. And once again, Matilda found herself bewildered by the absence of his usual arrogance.
Jasper tilted his head, still holding the wheel in place with one strong hand. “And tell me, Lady Hazel, are such antics customary for your sisters? Or is pinking swans a singular accomplishment?”
Hazel gave a weary sigh. “Customary, I’m afraid. They are twins, three years younger than I, and they arealwaysup to no good. My mother despairs of them.”
Cordelia leaned forward eagerly. “Do tell us one more!”
Hazel pinched the bridge of her nose but obliged. “Very well. Last spring, they somehow smuggled a pair of baby goats into the parlor, dressed them in ribbons and insisted they were honorary guests at my mother’s tea.”
Cordelia shrieked with laughter, nearly toppling from her stump. Evelyn covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling. Even Matilda, despite herself, gave in to a laugh that bubbledup, warm and genuine, shaking free some of the heaviness that clung to her chest.
She glanced toward Jasper. He was not laughing; not quite. But a smile curved his lips, slow and faint, softening the sharpness of his features, as though the image of mischievous twins and ribboned goats amused him in some private way.
Hazel exhaled, pressing her fingers to her brow. “Truly, I do not know what to do with them anymore. My parents are at their wits’ end, and I am no better. The twins leave chaos in their wake wherever they go.”
Jasper’s hands stilled. He leaned back on his heels, considering. It was not the expression of a rake or a man idly passing time, but of someone weighing the matter with quiet seriousness. He remained that way for a moment, the sun catching in his hair, the dust of the road clinging to his boots. Then he spoke.
“Twins, both unruly, always scheming, and never content unless the household revolves around them.” He looked up at Hazel, his blue eyes steady. “What they want is attention. Every antic, every scandal, it is simply a way to claim it.”
Hazel blinked. “Attention?”
He nodded. “If you starve them of it, they will only invent louder ways to demand it. If you scold them, you only confirm they’ve won. Punishment alone won’t do. But if you give them responsibility,realresponsibility, they will either rise to it orfalter. And in either case, they will learn the difference between mischief and consequence.”
Silence followed. The wheel, the broken axle, the dust and sun, all seemed to fade as his words hung in the air.
Evelyn was the first to stir. “That is… remarkably sensible.”
Hazel’s brows rose high, skepticism giving way to reluctant admiration. “And practical.” She gave a short laugh, shaking her head. “I confess, Your Grace, I had not thought of it in that light.”
Cordelia leaned forward eagerly. “Yes! Give them goats to mind, or perhaps a garden patch, or a dozen ducklings! Something they cannot neglect without disaster. Oh, how clever.”
Even Evelyn chuckled at Cordelia’s enthusiasm, but her eyes, like Hazel’s, drifted back to Jasper with unmistakable surprise.
Matilda, though, could scarcely breathe. She had expected jest, some sly remark to make Hazel bristle and Cordelia laugh. She had expected him to sneer, to mock, to turn their troubles into amusement. Neverthis, never reason, never measured advice given without flourish or vanity.
She felt her chest tighten, a faint, unwelcome ache stirring beneath her ribs.
How easily he shifts,she thought.How easily he becomes something I do not expect.
The others laughed now, feeling the tension broken by Cordelia’s vivid imaginings of goats in ribbons and ducklings parading through drawing rooms. Matilda’s own laugh escaped before she could stop it, soft and genuine. She pressed a hand to her lips, startled by the sound.
And in that moment, she risked another glance at Jasper.
