Page 29 of Adeline

Tomorrow…tomorrow he would send Miss Adeline on her way, repair the damage to the gunpowder plant, announce his plans for expansion, and move to hire additional villagers at both his estate and Home Works.

Adeline would be gone, though forgotten was an entirely different matter.

Even in his current mood, Jasper could picture how she’d looked as she watched him earlier after Emily’s husband had been pulled from the debris. There wasn’t even a need to close his eyes. No, she was there, before him, as he stared into the open flames of the hearth.

Her hair had been tousled and tangled in wild abandon…something Jasper had gotten used to seeing. Gone were the perfectly curled and pinned tresses he’d witnessed in the dining hall that morning. Vanished was her assured nature after donning the scarlet riding habit as he’d admired her at the bottom of the stairs before their hunt. Her eyes had been alight with what? Fright, terror, pride, amazement, and…something bordering on affection? He must have been mistaken, catching a glimpse of her and infusing his own inner feelings onto her.

Truthfully, Jasper had been possessed by a sense of fright and terror when he agreed to allow her to hunt with him. That had swiftly changed to pride and amazement when she took down the first turkey with her superior skill at archery.

But affection?

It was an utterly foreign emotion to Jasper.

Certainly, he cared for his servants. He’d outright loved his aunt and uncle, and must have held the same feelings for his blooded parents, even though he’d been too young to truly understand the bond that existed between a boy and his family.

No, there had been no look of affection or adoration.

It simply could not exist between the pair of them. Adeline belonged in London, and Jasper at Faversham Abbey.

It had been an act of selfishness that he’d brought her to the Abbey to begin with, but by no means could be keep her at Faversham.

Never should their paths cross again once she departed on the morrow.

Chapter 11

Adeline stood inside the library with her back pressed against the door, watching Lord Ailesbury pace back and forth before the fire as he downed yet another glass of what she could only imagine were spirits. He’d been so consumed with his musings, that he hadn’t heard her slip into the room and close the door behind her.

The light from the hearth cast a shadow across the entire room as he pivoted once more and followed the same path he had several times earlier. His profile was to her, and Adeline took the time she had to explore the harsh line of his jaw, the aristocratic set of his nose, and his long, cocoa-brown hair. His garb was not that of an earl, but everything about the lord screamed wealth, power, and control. His stride was sure and solid. The sun-kissed, golden glow of his skin spoke to his many hours—and days—working out amongst his people…those same people who’d just as quickly turned their backs on him.

As he reached the far side of the room, he turned once more, his chin lowering, and his empty glass clutched tightly to his chest. This was the side of him that was at odds with everything she knew of the man thus far. Yes, his scars were not who he was, but from this angle, Ailesbury appeared alone, helpless, and adrift. His posture was not as rigid, his shoulder dipped slightly. His footfalls were not as precisely pronounced. He almost appeared fragile, as an infant did shortly after birth until they grew strong enough to hold their own head high and ultimately walk on their own.

Not an infant, but a bird with a clipped wing.

This man before her—his drive to help those around him, his need to care for all who called Faversham home, his reclusive nature—longed to soar. Something held him back, though, and it was not his injuries.

No, it had nothing to do with his outward self.

Suddenly, Lord Ailesbury paused, letting out a quiet sigh before closing his eyes and turning his stare to the ceiling above. His hand fell from his chest, the tumbler sliding from his grasp to the rug-covered floor before it rolled under the edge of the lounge, forgotten.

Adeline held herself back from going to him and wrapping her arms around him, doing all within her power to right the situation…every wrong done to him…anything that could bring him to the low point he was in at that moment.

Yet, she didn’t move. She was an unwelcome guest in his home. No matter how wonderfully his servants treated her, Adeline suspected the earl only wanted her gone. Returned to London and her family. He would desire her nowhere near where she could bear witness to what transpired within Faversham Abbey.

She should flee, return to her chambers, and discard the wet riding habit for a clean, dry gown, putting as much distance between her and Lord Ailesbury as the large estate would allow. It was seemingly what he wanted and, surprisingly, Adeline realized she desperately wanted to please the man before her, even if that meant never seeing him again. He’d bidden her go to her room and change, yet she’d disobeyed him. It was the old Adeline resurfacing.

The young, impulsive, headstrong girl who’d arrived in Canterbury at twelve, and the same woman who’d departed the place nearly seven years later.

This was not the woman who’d been forced to stand back and watch as her best friend and brother found a love Adeline suspected would always be denied her. It was the broken woman who’d been made to sit back and watch as her father passed away, forever cast in the light of a stranger to his eldest daughter. Now, she was the woman who’d been charged with delivering her youngest sisters to boarding school because her mother barely found strength to leave her private chambers following the death of her mate and husband.

Only a day at Faversham Abbey, and Adeline had reverted to the selfish child she’d once been before loss and a brief glimpse of love had entered her life. Yes, she’d been an outsider, watching Theo and Alistair as they embarked on their journey to wedded bliss, but it had opened her eyes.

At Faversham, Adeline was faced with a man who’d seen true horror and devastation. She did not know the extent of his hardships, but what she’d overheard at the plant had been enough to allow her to see the folly of her recent actions.

A fire had taken Lord Ailesbury’s parents and left him marred, forever burdened with the lasting scars of what had transpired. She sensed she knew him better than before, but also, not at all. Even his given name was still a mystery to her. Why did he keep himself secluded here at the Abbey, and what had happened after his parents’ deaths? Surely, he must have been taken care of by someone other than servants, possibly sent away to school as she’d been—though for utterly opposite reasons.

She’d spoken of her father’s death during their hunting excursion, yet he’d kept his own past close, refusing to speak about it with her. They were strangers, two people forced into one another’s lives due to the storm. He hadn’t sought her out, selected her because of some connection between them, nor had he given any impression that he’d been happy to welcome her as a guest into his home.

The fact was, she’d been forced upon him. And as a gentleman, Lord Ailesbury had taken the honorable path: offered her safe, dry lodging, ample food, and the promise of a repaired coach.