A Dreadful Splendor (77)

The mare gently neighed toward her foal, alleviating the solemnness of the moment. Mr. Pemberton’s face brightened. “That’s why I love the stables,” he said. “Riding reminds me of being with her.”

“But doesn’t that memory bring you grief?” I asked.

“Yes, but it also brings comfort. Whenever I need to feel her close, I go to the thing she loved the most: riding. I always find her there.”

I stayed quiet. This was so different from Maman’s words about love only guaranteeing heartbreak. Love after death was an intriguing concept. I reasoned that was how grief felt in the absence of guilt.

There was a gentle laugh from Joseph. “She’s standing, now. Aw, ain’t she perfect.”

I had to agree. The foal was nothing short of spectacular.

“She needs a name,” Joseph said.

A few suggestions went around, but nothing seemed to grab the group.

Mr. Pemberton nudged me with his elbow. “You should do the honors, Miss Timmons. You’re the reason she’s here, safe and sound.”

With her sleek body and thick black mane, there was only one name that would suit her. “Esmeralda,” I said.

He smiled. “Esmeralda it is.”

I almost didn’t recognize him.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the dungeon, but the prospect of saying the words aloud brought a trickle of doubt. Had I really seen a human bone? It had been so dark.

Maybe the better choice was to dismiss that horrible memory as nothing more than a nightmare.

After another hour of staring at the mother and her newborn while they slept, Mr. Pemberton took his long coat from a hook and motioned for me to stand. “I’m afraid we’ll have to return on foot. Once the mare’s labour started, the other horses were released to the pasture, and you’re not dressed for a walk in the cold.”

I was about to remind him I had, in fact, come from the manor in only my dress, but then he placed his coat over my shoulders. I tolerated the gesture silently.

The first rays of dawn brightened the sky. I slipped my arms into the long coat and buttoned it up to my chin. I tucked my nose under the collar and detected the scent of soap and fresh air.

Joseph pulled at the front of his cap. “Come back anytime to see Esmeralda, miss.”

Mr. Pemberton and I stayed quiet as we made our way through the forest path, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds serenaded us as our easy gait continued in unison. I was very much aware of how many times our hands almost brushed. The mystery of Mr. Pemberton was being peeled back, one small revelation at a time. The more I discovered, the more I liked about him. However, there was one more pressing matter I needed to ask about. It would require tact, and near-perfect ambiguity on my part.

We emerged from the shelter of the trees to watch the sun rise higher. We paused, taking in the view. As light touched the frosted glade, the land sparkled as if dotted with jewels. I had a faint inclination of what it might feel like to be a queen, or at least someone of consequence. Somerset Park was perfect in the morning.

As if reading my mind, Mr. Pemberton said, “It’s a shame you don’t ride. It really is the best way to see the grounds.”

“What makes you think I don’t ride?”

I was expecting a laugh in reply. Instead, he stared in the road’s direction that led to the village.

“I look forward to the day when I can travel down this road for good,” he said.

“You can leave anytime you want.”

He shook his head. “Death may have severed any future Audra and I were to share, but it doesn’t erase the obligation I owe her memory.”

An intangible weight settled over me. The time we spent in the stables after Esmeralda’s birth and the walk back through the forest had seemed like a dream. I was beginning to care for him. And even though someone of his social standing would never consider me, my heart still needed to know. Tact be damned, I had to ask him before we spent any further time together. “Do you still love her?” I asked.

His brow knit together. “I’m unsure how to answer,” he said.

I held my breath, wishing I hadn’t mentioned it at all.

“There was hardly time,” he said. “But I was committed to the arrangement. Once I received the letter from Mr. Lockhart about Somerset Park and my connection, I understood it was my duty to become its sole caretaker. And then Audra accepted my proposal; she had her part to play as well. I cannot speak for her, but I don’t think it would be a grave injustice to assume she saw the arrangement the same as I.”

I kept his stare, realizing he hadn’t yet denied his affection for her.

His tone became softer, and yet more determined. “So it’s impossible to answer your question, Miss Timmons, as I was never in love with her to begin with.”

There was a quickening in my chest. Although it hardly changed our relationship, my relief was immediate and true. I looked down at my boots, afraid my pleasure would be obvious. “You asked for her hand out of duty?” I asked.

“I would have been a fool not to accept Somerset. And as the title of earl was to be passed down to me, I certainly needed to think about heirs. The arrangement suited both of us.” Then he shrugged. “It simply made sense.”

“That’s a very practical answer,” I said. “Someone more romantic might have called it fate.”