The earl could fend for himself. I needed air, away from the poison. Maybe I’d find Patience, and we’d both beg off.
Left then right, I traipsed from the room.
“Jemina,” Lady Shrewsbury said, “are you well?”
I nodded, for there were no words but jealous ones to express how I felt.
“You look like you’ve had words again with the earl.”
“No, ma’am, we haven’t spoken.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded thatI see you strugglingnod. “My dear, don’t let my nephew get you confused. That’s his talent.”
“So, his intentions are to confuse me?”
“You and perhaps himself. He’s been different since he lost his wife. He loved her so deeply, all through letters. Then he lost everything before they could build their dreams. I’m sure he doesn’t know what he wants. Don’t get caught in a trap, thinking and hoping for one thing and he means something else.”
“You don’t approve of him and me?”
“It’s not my place. Just be able to handle the consequences. Men don’t get consequences, not like women.”
“Can you say it plainly? My head is beginning to ache.”
She patted my hand. “Widows have to be smarter, even with men who seem upstanding. A man has to be willing to change his whole world to secure his happiness and yours.”
Since my world was only two years old, upheaval didn’t seem so bad, but Ashbrook had lived a whole life.
With her sherry eyes sweetly looking at me, maybe even praying for me, Lady Shrewsbury released me. “Do head back soon. White soup will be served.”
The woman went into the dining room, but I pressed down the hall through the maze of doors. I think I walked in circles, but I finally found the patio.
Patience wasn’t out here, but I wasn’t ready to return.
The air had a slight chill, but it felt so much better than being in the dining room with all the light and the scrutiny.
The door opened and shut behind me.
A tall form joined me in the dark. I didn’t have to look to know who was behind me, not with the way my heart started to beat. I was the girl who the Earl of Ashbrook had followed into the night.
CHAPTER 20
JEMINA—ANOFFER AND AGENTLEMAN
My pulse pounded, beating like the duke’s military drums.
Ashbrook walked closer. His footfalls tapped the patio’s cobblestones. I should turn to him, thank him for his flowers, and then leave this dinner.
Yet, I stayed frozen, trapped by the scent of him, clean cedar and sweet lilies, and starch.
He stood behind me.
It wouldn’t take much to fall back against his chest, just to breathe a little more of him.
His hand lifted to my shoulder. It sent a spark, a deep shiver to my skin, the little bit exposed by my square neckline.
“Is all well, Mrs. St. Maur?” Ashbrook’s voice. “I saw you leave in haste.”
“I’m quite well, my lord.”
