Page 19 of The Season of Lady Chastity

“Are you certain you wish to remain?”

Chastity’s shoulders stiffened at her sister’s harsh question. “Yes. Do give my regrets to Luci for missing the ride.”

“I only agreed to go because you were looking forward to it.”

“And I find I am in need of additional rest.” She held up a book Bastian hadn’t noticed by her plate. “I am going to read for a while and shall await your return.”

Prudence narrowed her glare on Bastian as a plate piled high with eggs, pheasant, and cheese was set before him. He had interrupted their conversation.

“Very well,” Prudence snapped. “Though it is not my responsibility to explain to Luci why you aren’t joining us.”

With that said, Lady Prudence stomped from the room, her half boots striking the floor with resounding thumps Bastian hadn’t known a woman could muster.

The woman had barely exited the breakfast room when Chastity let out a soft giggle.

“Pru isn’t fond of horses, although my father—and my brother—have insisted we not shelter ourselves indoors for the duration of our stay.” Chastity spiked a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth. “You should eat before it grows cold.”

Bastian hid his smile, picking up his fork and taking a bite of egg. “Why ever would she agree to go horseback riding if she dislikes horses ever so much?”

Chastity finally turned toward him. “Because she is always one to keep her word. And despite how dour she appears, I am certain she’ll enjoy some time away from the manor.” She paused and took a sip of tea. “And, I must admit, I too will enjoy a bit of time alone.” She sighed, nibbling at her bottom lip. “Not that I do not greatly love my sister…”

“I would never even consider the possibility,” he offered. “Though you appeared excited for the outing when last we spoke.”

“Sometimes, things change.”

Bastian could not find a suitable response. In his estimation, things did not change. The men from his past hadn’t changed. His home life, even after his father’s passing, hadn’t changed. What could have changed since the previous night when she’d been so looking forward to the outing?

Belatedly, Bastian remembered the letter she’d intently clutched by the moat. The one she’d quickly hidden away.

She’d admitted that it was a love letter, of sorts.

Had she remained at Oxburgh Hall with the intention of meeting with the note’s author?

His chest flared with red-hot pain at the implication of his thought.

Lady Chastity had forgone the outing to meet with a man.

But whom?

Montrose and Hawke had been ready and waiting to depart. Torrington was her brother, and she’d need no privacy to speak with him. Comstock, Ruthven, Tamblerton, and Liddell were in the foyer, but Bastian had concentrated only on making his way to the breakfast room, not taking stock of whether the men had been attired for the outdoors.

Chastity, fawning over a letter written by Comstock, was unimaginable.

The lord was a cad, a scoundrel, and a ruffian. His cronies weren’t much better.

Bastian could not, would not, allow the image of Lady Chastity alone in Comstock’s presence to dampen his mood.

“My lord, if your frown increases any more, I fear you’ll be unable to smile again.” Chastity’s teasing words were in no way meant to be malicious or insulting. “If I’d known my change in plans would cause your mood to wane so, I wouldn’t have remained.”

“It is not that, Lady Chastity.” He spoke the words softly as the other guests stood to depart, their meals finished.

“What can it be then?” she prodded.

Admitting that the thought of her remaining at Oxburgh Hall for a private meeting with another man sent jealousy coursing through him was out of the question. That Chastity had been the first person he’d spoken to since arriving at Montrose’s country manor was also something better left unsaid.

“Is it Lady Mansfield?” Concern etched her face.

The mention of his mother had Bastian cringing. Did Chastity think him a weakling for his attachment to his mother? If her suitor were Comstock or one of his companions, then they may have spoken of Bastian with her, even jested about him.