Nine
Jaclyn had spent the past several days confined to her bed, the lingering effects of her fall into the pond only just beginning to wear off. Though she was still weak, the doctor had given her permission to take short walks around the grounds of Easton Abbey, the fresh air and movement being just the sort of gentle exercise her body needed. A small sense of triumph washed over her as the maid carefully helped her dress, adjusting the soft fabric of her gown with a delicate touch. Her red-gold hair was carefully arranged, and for a moment, Jaclyn caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her face held a pallor she had never seen on her features, but she was determined not to allow that to stop her from taking a walk. She did not want to remain in that bed longer than necessary. She was ready to return to Havenwood and her lessons. Even if that meant sharing a room with Melisande once more.
"Shall I fetch Lady Foxmoore or Lady Easton to accompany you, miss?" the maid asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jaclyn's forehead.
Jaclyn gave a small, polite smile. "Yes, I should think one of them would be best," she replied, though she couldn’t quite mask the sense of longing to see a familiar face. Not that she did not wish to see one of her two friends, but she had not seen the duke in days. Not since that first day she had awakened to find him sitting by her bed. Even though she was certain he had been there, sometimes she couldn’t believe it either.
The maid left her alone to fetch either Charlotte or Georgina. She sat on the chair by the dressing table to wait for one or both of them to arrive. But when the door opened, it wasn’t either of her friends who entered the room. Instead, there, standing in the doorway with his broad shoulders and confident posture, was none other than the Duke of Amberwood, a deep frown settling across his brow.
"Lady Jaclyn," he greeted her with a warmth she did not expect his voice low yet comforting. "You are well enough to walk, I trust?"
"I am," she replied, her surprise at his unexpected appearance mixing with a flicker of curiosity. "But I had thought Charlotte or Georgina would be here to accompany me."
A small, somewhat amused glint flickered in the duke’s gaze as he stepped forward. "I am afraid neither of them is available at the moment. I thought it best to assist you myself."
Jaclyn opened her mouth to protest, to insist that the duke should not be the one to accompany her, but the words caught in her throat. For some inexplicable reason, she was more than willing to allow him to attend to her. Perhaps it was the lingering vulnerability she felt after her recent ordeal, or perhaps it was simply the allure of his commanding presence. She had been thinking about him earlier and she wanted to ask him why he had stayed away. Perhaps this was an opportunity to question him and try to understand his motivations. He seemed softer than he had been in their more recent past. Almost like that man she had first met at Vauxhall. The one that had been a possibility before her brother had ruined everything.
"Very well, if you do not mind not following propriety as we do not have a chaperone," she said softly, her gaze meeting his as he offered his arm. "I would be grateful for your company."
"Not at all," he replied with a slight bow, his hand guiding her gently toward the door. "Shall we?"
They made their way down the hallway toward the grand staircase. He stayed by her side the entire time to ensure she was not overtaxed by the exertion. Finally, they arrived at the doors leading out into the garden. She stopped to admire her first glimpse of the gardens and smiled. The afternoon sunlight spilled over the blossoms and casting long, dappled shadows across the cobbled path. The scent of roses and lavender filled the air, and Jaclyn took a deep breath, savoring the calming atmosphere. She had not realized how much she had missed being outside until now.
As they walked, Jaclyn allowed her thoughts to wander. The duke was a quiet presence beside her, his arm steady and firm, but it wasn’t long before his voice broke the comfortable silence. "I believe," he said, his tone measured, "that Lord Finley may have sent word to your family about your mishap."
Jaclyn’s steps faltered for a brief moment, and she turned her head to look at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She had not misheard him, had she? Her family? She supposed they should have been notified of her mishap, but she hadn’t truly wanted them to know. She would be all right. There was no need to bother them.
"I mean," the duke continued, his voice unruffled, "that it is highly likely that Lord Finley took it upon himself to inform your family about your fall into that pond and your subsequent illness. It would not surprise me."
Jaclyn’s heart skipped a beat, and she frowned in confusion. "I hadn’t considered any of that," she admitted, her thoughts swirling with the implications. "But why would Lord Finley have done such a thing?"
The duke hesitated before answering, his gaze fixed ahead as they walked. "Because it is possible that he believes it is his duty. To inform them of your well-being, that is. It could also be that he feels some responsibility toward you, given the events that transpired." Slowly he turned his head to meet her gaze. “But it is more likely his relationship with your brother prompted him to send word of your mishap.”
Jaclyn thought back to that night at Vauxhall—how she had been swept into a situation that she hadn’t fully understood at first. She had met the duke for the first time that night and he had been so kind to her. He’d offered to help her because she had been separated from her brother. Lord Finley had been with Barrett that night as well. Her brother, though he had been far more concerned with his own socializing than with her safety. At least until he realized that the duke had been by her side and only then had his protective instincts come out. He had made wild accusations toward the duke and ruined her reputation.
She held the duke’s gaze, her thoughts turning more somber. "Do you think… my brother will come here? To Easton Abbey?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The duke’s expression darkened slightly, though his voice remained steady. "I believe it is an inevitability," he said, his gaze unwavering. "It would not surprise me in the least if he chooses to pay a call here, especially now that he knows of your condition. He will feel the need to assert some control over the situation."
Jaclyn’s chest tightened at the thought of her brother arriving at Easton Abbey. She had been dreading that very scenario for some time. The last thing she needed was for him to be here, hovering over her and her every move. She had already lived through enough discomfort with her family’s disappointment and her subsequent ruination, and now the possibility of an even greater confrontation loomed. She had no doubt her brother would once again leap to the wrong conclusion when he realized that the duke was visiting Easton Abbey.
Her thoughts flashed back to Vauxhall again, to the heated words and the sense of helplessness she had felt. She wasn’t sure she could handle her brother’s disapproval, nor was she certain how much longer she could keep her emotions in check, especially around the duke. Perhaps she should ask him to escort her back to her room. This may have been too much for her first outing after her illness. "I wish he would stay in London," she said quietly, the words escaping her before she had a chance to stop them.
The duke glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "You are not the only one," he replied, his voice gentle but tinged with a hint of empathy.
Jaclyn sighed, her gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. "I fear that with both him and Lord Finley in the same place, disaster is bound to strike. They’re fast friends and my brother grows bolder when they are together. With you here as well…"
The duke’s arm tightened subtly around her, as if offering silent reassurance. "You need not worry, Lady Jaclyn. I have discussed all of this with Lord Easton. Neither of us will allow your brother or Finley to cause any difficulties for you."
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for sincerity. He met her gaze steadily, though she couldn’t quite read the emotions flickering behind his calm exterior. There was something in his expression that gave her pause. Did he, too, struggle with the weight of their shared history? Could that be why he had attempted to keep his distance when he had first arrived at Easton Abbey. He had been so surly and appeared angry to discover her at Havenwood.
For the first time in a long while, Jaclyn allowed herself to hope. Could the duke have feelings for her or was it her imagination? Perhaps there was more to this bond, more to what had grown between them because of that fateful night. But the realization of that truth brought with it a weight she wasn’t sure she was ready to carry. Did she want him to have those sorts of feelings for her and what would she do if he did?
Kingston walked beside Jaclyn, the path through the lush gardens of Easton Abbey still bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. The conversation had started with concern over her brother’s impending visit. He now hoped to distract her from that with something else. Anything really. He wanted them to have a pleasant afternoon—he wanted her to enjoy her walk.
"So," he said, glancing sideways at her as they walked. "Now that I have you alone…" He winked.
“You will do what?” She raised an eyebrow. “We both know you’re not the rogue the ton believes you to be.” She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “At least not with me.”
