He led her to a grassy knoll a short distance away from the carriage and spread the blanket out on the ground inviting her to sit. She sank gracefully to the ground, tucking her legs underneath her, her dress billowing out around her. She gathered her cloak tightly around her, trying to ward off the chill.
They enjoyed cold chicken sandwiches and a refreshing bottle of wine. Once through with her meal, Jillian sat back with her wine, breathing deeply of the crisp air. The faint scent of burning wood, no doubt from a farmhouse chimney, drifted delicately through her nostrils.
“I don’t think I have ever seen anything so beautiful,” she whispered, gazing up at the scattering of stars burning brightly against the sky. “Surely the stars are more beautiful than the royal jewels.”
Justin looked up at the sky, so clear, and devoid of clouds. Every star, every sprinkling of celestial dust, was visible. The moon was just rising on the horizon and cast a bright glow over the gentle slope they were resting on. “It is lovely,” he agreed. “I was just saying to Case the other night that I miss seeing the stars when I am in London. Everything seems so much larger and more visible in the country. It’s one of the things I love most about coming home.”
Jillian gazed curiously at him, noting the longing in his voice. Before she could remark on it, Justin looked back at the carriage and then rose. “It appears as though they’ve finished changing the horses. We should go.” He said the last with a touch of regret.
She rose and collected the picnic basket. Justin picked up the blanket and followed her to the carriage. The footman re-lit the oil lamp and handed it in to Justin before raising the step and closing the door. The two settled back as the carriage started up once again.
As they rode in silence, Jillian studied him from underneath her lashes. He was staring out into the darkness of the night, his expression thoughtful. He was handsome, she decided. Where Lucas had been solicitous in his appearance, often preening in front of a mirror before going out, Justin appeared to give little thought to such matters. His hair, longer and more unruly than his peers, seemed to have a will of its own. The ebony locks fell forward, often drifting carelessly over his forehead. His skin was unfashionably tanned, heightening his rugged appearance, and his dark brown eyes were warm and comforting.
As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned to look at her.
“Why aren’t you married?” she asked curiously.
He looked startled by the question. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“I thought that’s what dukes do. Marry the perfect woman and produce an heir and a spare.”
“You’re cynical for one so young,” he said in an amused voice.
“I never considered myself a cynic, more likely a naïve idiot,” she said with a note of self-censure. “It was Case who told me ‘people in our position don’t marry for love.’”
“Case said that?” Justin asked in surprise.
“You don’t agree?”
“I am surprised, that’s all. Our parents were very happily married and very much in love.”
“Do you plan to marry for love, then?” she asked in shock.
“I am not, to borrow your word,naïveenough to think I should be so fortunate as to marry a woman I was in love with, but I have plenty of time yet, and I am in no hurry to rush into a marriage with someone Idon’tlove.”
He could not have shocked her more had he stripped off his clothing and run naked behind the carriage.
“Close your mouth,” he said in amusement. “If there is a fly about, you wouldn’t want to swallow it.”
She continued to stare incredulously at him. “You’re aromantic.”
He looked somewhat abashed. “You look at me like I am a lackwit. I only want what my parents enjoyed.”
Her throat did not seem to be working properly. She closed and then opened her mouth but nothing came out. Gad! The man was fraught with contradictions. He sat discussing his hope for love with his future wife as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. Good Lord, no wonder he had been so bent on wresting Case away from her. She was the complete embodiment of everything he held in contempt. He saw her as an uncaring, malicious woman bent on creating scandal, and worse, dallying with the affections of his brother.
Not for the first time, she felt shame over her actions. Even amidst her disgraceful behavior, Justin had still acted with honor when she had been in need. What would it be like to know she had earned the love of such a man? His duchess would be the most fortunate of women. Jillian only hoped whoever it was would realize just how blessed she was.
Justin watched the myriad of emotions play out on Jillian’s face and wondered what caused her angst. “What about you?” he asked. He had never asked her about her marriage, though the question had been burning his lips since the first time he met her. “What did Penroth do to raise your ire? You must admit, you haven’t exactly played the part of the grieving widow.”
A shuttered look rolled over Jillian’s face and he was reminded of the prison bars of Newgate clanking shut. The light had completely died in her eyes, replaced with a coldness that made him shiver. For a fleeting moment he had seen genuine pain in her eyes. He wondered at the cause of that pain.
“I’d rather not discuss my—Lucas,” she finished, as if unable to bring herself to call him her husband.
“How did you and Case meet?” he asked quickly, attempting to find a neutral topic.
Her face immediately lit up, and once again, Justin felt an unwelcome pang of jealousy.
“He gave me a ride home after my hack left me stranded. We have been friends ever since.”
