He’d been brashly confident eleven years ago, in a young, almost impatient, sense. Now his arrogance had hardened into that of a man who knew himself.
And yet.
She’d thought she’d recognized sadness in his eyes. Eyes mirrored in his daughter’s faces.
Twin girls. One confident and talkative, and the other quiet and shy. The three of them together seemed… lost.
As though sensing her thoughts, Peaches edged up from her lap in order to nuzzle Tilde beneath her chin. Tilde dropped a kiss upon the soft short hairs of her faithful companion’s head.
The entire scenario of events had been quite unfortunate.
She grimaced at the irony. An unfortunate fortune for Matilda Fortune.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Matilda.
She straightened her spine. Self-pity never proved to be anything but an exercise in futility and she refused to take part in it.
She’d spent the past decade shaping the lives of three lovely girls. She had the honor of teaching them, and then watching them blossom into beautiful young women. The time had come, however, to move onto something different, to embrace a new future. Already, the employment agency had secured her another enviable position. They’d said her references had been impeccable. The Baroness had sent them a glowing recommendation.
And next week she would meet her new ‘family,’ which was always somewhat trying but didn’t loom as too large a task. And before that, she would have treasured time to spend with her aunt and the eldest of her three younger sisters, Betsy.
Her other two sisters, Chloe and Charlotte were currently at Miss Primm’s Ladies’ Seminary. When Chloe graduated, she’d been offered a position straightaway as a teacher. Charlotte, not quite seventeen, remained a student.
Betsy was only two years younger than Matilda. She acted as companion for Aunt Nellie, who’d taken all of them in upon their parent’s death.
Tilde looked forward to simply being at home, with no responsibilities, for all of five days. She could visit a few museums, see the menagerie, and sit in Hyde Park late in the day and watch the members of the ton fawn over themselves. People watching was one of her favorite pastimes while in London.
And then she opened her eyes. It was quite possible that Jasper Talbot would be one of them. If his daughters were ladies, then he would have to be, was it possible? Jasper was an earl or even a duke? He’d move socially amongst the crème de la crème, no doubt. She ought to have called him ‘my lord’. Or had she?
Eleven years ago, he’d simply been Mr. Talbot to her.
Jasper.
She and her parents had been invited to join one of her father’s friends for an evening at Vauxhall. They’d crossed to the park on a boat, and Tilde had been impressed with all the lights and gardens and music.
Her father hadn’t been wealthy, but he’d been a landowner and wasn’t a pauper either. Unfortunately, his wife had only presented him with daughters. His four little misfortunes, he used to joke. When he and her mother had been killed, their small estate had passed to Father’s younger brother, Mr. Colin Fortune. A most disagreeable man.
The Fortunes had been estranged from one another for years and so he’d been quite uncharitable when the time had come to take ownership of Blessing’s Cottage. He’d only allowed them to retrieve their most personal of items.
To this day, aunt Nellie referred to him as the bandit who stole her nieces’ childhoods. Tilde smiled to herself. So much changed after her parent’s death. Which had come less than a week after she’d met Jasper.
That night at Vauxhall, even before the two of them had been introduced, they’d noticed one another. She had been sitting in the tent tasting the delightful strawberries and wine, she’d caught him staring at her on numerous occasions.
And she’d been unable to keep from staring back.
Eventually, he’d smiled at her. A timid upturn of his lips.
She’d blushed and dipped her head, but then glanced up again, and sent an oh, so very demure smile in his direction.
He’d been a handsome young man but that hadn’t been what drew her to him. She’d felt as though an imaginary spider had been weaving its web around the two of them, leaving no choice but to eventually come together.
Chaperones had been lax as the evening wore on. When he’d asked her if she’d like to go walking, she’d eagerly accepted. She’d not taken his arm, she remembered, but walked alongside of him with her hands behind her back.
Neither of them seemed to notice the various vendors along the way, or the music, or the dancers. They took turns asking one another questions, but the answers didn’t really matter. All that had mattered was the thick attraction building between them.
It had felt like a physical thing.
Tilde hadn’t thought of it for a long time, but even now, years later, she remembered the weight of it.
