AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lady Patricia took a deep breath. “Were you simply in the area, your Grace, or did you plan to surprise me?” Her cheeks dimpled prettily when she smiled.
He couldn’t help smiling back. “I think you know the answer to that, Lady Patricia,” he said slowly. “I would hardly have a posy just waiting in my carriage, would I?”
She blushed, laughing. “No, of course you would not. How silly of me.” The high colour in her cheeks suited her, he thought. “I do hope you have been well, since I last saw you at the orphanage?”
He nodded. “Tolerably well, I thank you. And yourself?”
“Very good,” she said, tossing back her golden ringlets. “Although I was rather sad at the way we parted in those gardens. You seemed a little disappointed with me.”
He smothered his surprise. “It was not you I was disappointed with, my Lady,” he said slowly. “Rather, it was the gentleman who had interrupted us.” He paused. “A gentleman who I am not fond of and was most surprised by his intrusion.”
“Lord Cardigan,” she said slowly, looking solemn. “He has just called upon me, you know. He only just left before you arrived.”
He nodded. “I saw him on the way here passing by in his carriage.” He hesitated. “May I be so bold as to enquire whether his visit was a success?”
She simply stared at him, for a moment. And then, to his utter surprise, she quickly got up, leaning against the mantelpiece and staring into the fire. She looked shaken.
He could not help himself. He quickly got up and approached her. “My Lady. What is it?”
She shook her head quickly. “Oh, I know I am being a silly woman. Lord Cardigan was perfectly amiable. But he is rather boastful, is he not? Is he truly the best at everything that he tries?”
He burst out laughing. Her candor was so refreshing, and her assessment of Cardigan so accurate, that he simply could not help it.
“He is not,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with mirth. “He is one of those people who likes to boast about everything. He has always been thus.” His eyes lingered on her face. “Of what was he speaking?”
“Oh, this and that,” she replied, waving a hand in the air. “How brave he had been at war. How outstanding he was at all his subjects at school and university. How he was a superb boxer and rider, and probably the most skilled at tug of war while still in leading straps on the nursery floor…!”
Jackson laughed again. She was still flushed, her face animated. A rosy glow had crept over her chest, just above the bodice of her gown.
His breath caught in his throat. How truly beautiful she was.
His loins stirred again. He wanted to bed her this very instant. He wasn’t used to waiting any more. He had only been with courtesans these past years, and he never had to woo them. They were his for the taking, when he wanted them. They only needed to see the color of his coin. It had been a long time indeed since he had courted a lady. So long ago that he simply could not remember it.
The door opened and a maid walked in, carrying tea and biscuits on a silver tray. She bobbed quickly, retrieving the old tea service, before walking out the door, closing it behind her.
“Shall we?” she asked, walking away from him, and sitting back down again.
He caught a whiff of her perfume as she passed him by. Lavender. A truly alluring scent and one that he had always loved. He took a deep breath, sitting opposite. She poured the tea, passing it to him. For a moment they drank in silence, before she set down her cup.
“May I ask you a question?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Of course,” he said, putting down his own cup. “I am at your service, my Lady.”
She smiled a little sadly. “You have been at war, your Grace. Does it change a man in ways that can never be recovered? I only ask because Lord Cardigan was so very dismissive of other men’s fear in the face of danger, mocking them. And my own dear uncle was shattered by his experience of it and has never been the same since.”
His heart lurched. This visit was not going in the way he had expected at all. He had pictured that they might talk of the weather, or various social events, or perhaps even riding in the country. The many superficial subjects one did when conversing with new acquaintances. But this visit had veered in an entirely different direction.
He gazed into her face. He could tell she was sincere; she genuinely wanted to know. She was not mocking him or trying to glean what had happened to him, to find out how he had received his scar.
At least, he hoped she wasn’t. He was surprised to find just how fervently he hoped.
“I do not know one man who is not changed by it,” he replied slowly. “And as for fear…well, a man would have to be a fool not to feel it. It is not fear that is the enemy on the battlefield. Rather, it is trying to keep a sense of self. That one may walk into such darkness and still come back to the light.”
He paused, struggling for words. “That the shadows where one must linger do not permeate the soul forevermore.”
His hands had started to tremble, and he could not look at her. For some strange reason, it felt like the most intimate thing he had said to another living soul in a veritable age.
“A time to love and a time to hate,” she said slowly, in a soft voice. “A time for war and a time for peace…”
