“Noble?” Justin asked, raising an eyebrow. “She was well born then?”
“The Earl of Lindelle’s daughter. Shame he never had a son. No heir either. His title and holdings reverted back to the crown. A man’s worst nightmare.” Darvington shook his head regretfully. “And now it appears as though Penroth’s title will suffer the same fate.”
“Very notable family.” Justin frowned. “I remember Father speaking of the earl. Didn’t he die some years ago?”
Lord Darvington inclined his head. “Eleven to be exact.”
“Is there not another member of that family to keep her in line?”
“No, more’s the pity. There is an aunt who sponsored her come out, but she suffers from ill health and retired to the country right after the wedding.”
“She and Penroth not get along well together?”
“No way to tell,” the older man said, taking up the drink a nearby footman poured for him. “They rarely appeared in public together beyond a few social engagements.”
Lord Darvington sat back and pinned Justin with his gaze. “Now that you are home, what do you intend to do about it?”
Justin looked at him in surprise. “Do? My brother is a grown man.”
“Still, you are the head of your family, and your father, rest his soul, is likely turning over in his grave.”
Justin couldn’t dispute that. His father had placed infinite importance on honor and propriety. Case well knew this too. It was something their father had instilled in them from a very early age. And now, Case was disregarding everything and for awoman. He shook his head. He was due for a long talk with his younger brother.
He left White’s, eager to get back and go for a ride in Hyde Park. After weeks on a ship, he was yearning for an afternoon of exercise. He suffered through another interminable journey home before he finally arrived back at his townhouse.
As his horse was saddled in the stables, he walked into the main house and collected a hunk of bread from the kitchens. One of his favorite places in the park was a small pond off the main path, usually full of hungry swans.
A few minutes later, he set out on horseback and let go the concerns about Case and his paramour. They would wait. For now he was going to enjoy his first afternoon back on dry land.
###
Jillian paused and breathed deeply of the crisp autumn air. It was a beautiful day for a walk, and, for once, it looked as if she wouldn’t return home soaked from an afternoon’s rain.
Today was no ordinary day. It marked a rather significant change in her life. She grimaced and dug her hands deeper into the fur muff she held in front of her. This should have been a wonderful time, a day for celebration, a day to mark the passing of a milestone. Instead, she strolled along a solitary path giving thanks that the experience was over.
She wasn’t usually given to self-pity, but today, perhaps she deserved to indulge in a bit of morose thought. After all, it wasn’t every day a woman celebrated her first wedding anniversary alone.
Six months after Lucas’s death she still had nightmares. Still woke from a fitful sleep, convinced she had heard his footsteps outside her door. Terrified that at any moment he would throw open the door, laugh maniacally, and tell her it was all a joke, that he wasn’t dead.
At other times, she dreamed that he screamed at her from the grave, swearing that she would never be free. Never. And there were times she believed it. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears that pricked her eyelids. Would she ever be rid of the memories, or was she doomed to relive them over and over?
She stopped at a small stone bench that rested underneath a leafless tree and took a seat. A pair of swans glided across the pond directly in front of Jillian, setting into motion the scattering of leaves that had fallen onto the water’s surface.
Leaning forward, she withdrew her hands from the warmth of the muff and propped her arm upon her knee, resting her chin in her palm. Strands of dark hair escaped her hastily configured coiffure as a gentle breeze washed over her. She blew a tendril that drifted across her eyes then shook her head as it tickled her nose. Perhaps if she were a proper lady and wore a bonnet she wouldn’t have to contend with wayward strands. She sighed. But she wasn’t. No point in disputing the obvious. A soft chuckle escaped her lips. If she were a proper lady, she wouldn’t be out here alone, without an escort.
“I hadn’t expected to find anyone here so far off the main path,” a deep, male voice said from behind her.
She twisted around in alarm, not having heard his approach and annoyed at the intrusion.
“My apologies for startling you,” he said.
Her breath came out in a whoosh as she caught full sight of the interloper. He stood casually, watching her, a riding crop resting against his leg. He was well turned out, his clothing impeccably rendered, his Hessians polished and gleaming in the midday sun. She looked up into his warm brown eyes, rapidly glancing over his face and then back to the dark locks of wavy hair so close to the color of her own. Her gaze dropped down to the riding crop in his hand.
“Planning to chase me from your spot?”
He looked startled for a moment and glanced down at the hand that held the crop. “Indeed not,” he said with a chuckle. “Surely the pond is large enough for two.” He looked at her for a moment. “But then, I sense I have intruded.”
Jillian sighed. “Not at all, you’ve saved me from a veritable tide of self recrimination.”
