She sighed. ‘I can see she’s carrying a lot of guilt.’
‘And yet nothing changes.’
‘What would you have her do exactly?’ Lyndal said on a laugh. ‘The man is her husband. If he truly is a monster, he won’t take kindly to a change of heart.’
He met her eyes. ‘Speaking of family, what did your sisters have to say about your marriage choice?’
‘Oh, I think you can hazard a guess.’
‘Do you think showing them your lavender drawing might help?’
Her mouth fell open, eyes laughing. ‘I take offence to that, defender.’
‘As is your right, Lady Lyndal of Cardelle Manor.’
She shoved him playfully with little effect.
‘Didn’t I once hear you say you’re named after your grandmother?’ he asked.
‘So youwerelistening at dinner all those times I thought you were blocking out the sound of my voice. Your point being?’
The corners of his mouth lifted. ‘That makes you Lady Lyndal the second of Cardelle Manor.’
She laughed. ‘Actually, I would be Lady Lyndal thethird. My grandmother’s grandmother was also named Lyndal.’
He chuckled lightly, the tension leaving his shoulders.
‘It’s really peaceful here,’ she said, looking around at the muddy fields. ‘I can almost picture the green paddocks before the rain arrived and stripped this place of its beauty.’
His eyes swept their surroundings. ‘It really was something back then.’
Lyndal was silent a moment. ‘Do you ever wonder how your life would have turned out if you’d stayed here?’
‘I would have been dragged off to the tower for murdering my stepfather, then hung on a wall.’
Lyndal winced. ‘It was that bad?’
‘It was that bad.’
A hand landed on his wrist, and he followed it all the way up to that pretty round face.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I know what it is to grow up without a father, but I can’t even fathom a terrible replacement.’ Her hand fell away. ‘I imagine your mother had no choice but to remarry. She had young children and could hardly be expected to run a farm this size by herself.’
His eyes went to the open gate up ahead. ‘She doesn’t need your excuses. She has enough of her own.’ He gestured for her to stop and looked around.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
He pointed ahead. ‘That’s the paddock we keep the bull in.’
‘The one with the open gate?’
He nodded and continued walking. ‘Stay close.’
She took hold of his arm. ‘Is it a charging bull by any chance?’
His eyes went to where she was gripping him. ‘Not usually, but that’s a very bright shade of blue you’re wearing.’ He smiled to himself when her grip tightened.
Astin relaxed when he spotted his sisters with the bull up ahead, his expression turning to one of amusement as he took in the sight of Presley knee deep in a bog, resting against the bull’s rump. Rose was tugging on a rope attached to the bull’s halter. She stopped when she spotted them approaching, likely wondering who he was. It had been nearly two years since he had stepped foot on the farm.
