Another glass of wine in her hand, she turned around. She came here tonight with a purpose, and she was not going to be swayed from her mission to banish the demons of the past year.
CHAPTER THREE
The first fingers of sunlight were just starting to reach across the horizon when Jillian stepped from the library into her garden. A light frost had kissed the earth, and the grass crunched beneath her slippers as she made her way to the hammock swinging lazily between the only two trees in the small space surrounded by an ivy-covered stone wall.
Her breath came out in a large puff, bespeaking of the coldness of the morning air. On warmer mornings she often took breakfast here, and she looked forward to spring when she could enjoy doing so again. Still, there was something that drew her to the starkness of winter. Perhaps it was the way the earth never truly died. It just lay dormant under the layers of snow and ice waiting until it was time to burst from its protective shell and bloom again. It was survival at its finest.
She breathed deeply of the air, scented lightly with the smoke from nearby chimneys and closed her eyes in pleasure, arching her face into the new sun that bathed the garden in its warmth.
An empty wine bottle lying beside the hammock caught her attention as she made her way over, and she bent to retrieve it. She looked ruefully at it, not remembering much of the previous evening beyond her encounter with the duke. She had retreated home to the sanctuary of her garden not long after the confrontation. Frowning, she set the bottle aside, her achy head suddenly pounding a bit more fiercely at the thought of Case’s brother.
She settled into the hammock and watched soft light touch the darkened corners of her garden as the sun rose over the distant horizon. At least Case wasn’t angry over last night’s debacle, and she intended to keep it that way. Telling him what happened between her and the duke would serve no purpose. Besides, she was perfectly capable of handling him without help from Case.
If only they hadn’t met in the park. Perhaps then her embarrassment wouldn’t be so keenly felt. She massaged her temple, pressing her fingers deeply into the indentation in an effort to ease the dull ache. Maybe a cup of tea was in order.
She rose and walked back inside to the kitchen. Hilda looked up from her task as Jillian entered.
“Good morning, my lady.”
Jillian nodded, not wanting to expend the effort necessary to speak.
“Go on into the sitting room,” Hilda said, her face softening in sympathy. “Harry has a nice fire started, and I’ll bring you some tea.”
Jillian offered a grateful smile and left the kitchen. She entered the sitting room and padded over to the fireplace, curling up in the armchair that sat directly in front of the hearth. She stretched languidly, feeling the warmth from the flames pervade her limbs. It was a good day to stay in and do nothing.
Hilda bustled in a moment later and poured her a cup of tea. Jillian murmured her thanks and then sat back once more, enjoying the crackling warmth of the fire as she sipped the soothing liquid. Her eyes grew heavy as she gazed into the hypnotic blaze of the fire. Setting aside her now empty cup, she burrowed down into the chair and closed her eyes.
###
Her eyes fluttered open, the room slowly coming into focus. The fire had died down, and only a few remaining embers glowed. She stretched in the chair, and, to her relief, the aching in her head had diminished greatly.
“Ahhh, she awakens.”
Jillian turned to see Case stretched out on the settee across from the chair she was sitting in. “How long have you been here?” she asked sleepily.
“An hour maybe.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked so comfortable. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked as she struggled to sit up in her chair. “I expected you would spend the day with your brother.”
“Aren’t you glad to see me?” he asked, giving her a wounded look.
She tossed one of the pillows in her chair at him. “Of course I am glad to see you. Aren’t I always?”
“So, how are you feeling this morning?” he asked in an innocent voice.
“My head felt like a stuffed cabbage when I woke,” she admitted.
“I wonder why.”
She glowered at him. “There is no need to state the obvious.”
He chuckled. “I take it you are feeling a bit better then?”
“Yes, indeed. I really must stop drinking so much,” she said with a sigh.
