The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1)(70)

You will always have a special place in my heart, Hollis. I beg you to let me look upon you with my own eyes and see you happy once more. It would make my joy complete. I hope to see you soon.

Your humble servant,

Jameson

“He also invites me to court. Soon,” I said, passing her the letter. “And it sounds as if he’s finally paired up with Delia Grace.”

“Ah! Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure my tone was convincing. I was still sorting out my feelings when it came to Delia Grace. Sad because I missed her so much, hopeful that she might miss me. Guilty over the way things had played out in the end, and happy for her success. At least one of us could have what we wanted. “Maybe it would be good to see her again. It might be good for all of us to tie up loose ends.”

“Then I think you should go. It might do you good to have a distraction, something to look forward to, and we’ll be leaving soon ourselves. This house is beautiful, but it’s awfully big for one person.”

I threw myself into a chair in a manner my mother would have described as petulant. And in that moment, I wished she were here to tell me so. What sum of money might I have paid to have my mother scold me one more time? I pushed the thought away and looked over at Lady Eastoffe. “I suppose you’re right. You usually are.”

She chuckled and left to go finish her letter.

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I need to take care of.”

“You needn’t ask me,” she said, looking up from the table. “You’re the lady of the house.”

Oh. That’s right. I raised my chin. “Well, in that case, I have something to do, and I’m going no matter what you say.”

“That’s more like it.”

I moved down the entryway stairs and out to the stables, where the horses were in the middle of being groomed.

“Good day, mistress,” the groomer said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” I insisted, touching his shoulder. “I need to borrow Madge for a short ride.”

He looked me over. “But you’re not in riding clothes, my lady,” he noted. “Perhaps I could get the carriage?”

“No. I’m not worried about my clothes. I just . . . I need to think.”

An understanding passed over his eyes, and he brought out my beautiful, dark horse.

“If anyone asks, you haven’t seen me.”

He gave me a wink, and I pulled on the reins as Madge went into a gallop. We rode fast, but I had no fear that she would bolt or buck me off. She, like I, was singularly focused.

Like I had over the last few days, I took Madge through the deep woods, heading west. She knew the terrain and handled it expertly, protecting us both from trees and roots as we made our way to my home away from home. Abicrest Manor.

The mounds of dirt beneath the large willow tree were a strikingly bright shade of brown, and they remained several inches higher than the ground surrounding them, though years would erode that to nothing.

I didn’t know if it was custom or just a measure of kindness the Eastoffes chose to extend, but the servants were buried alongside their masters, making nearly two dozen graves lined up in neat rows on the outskirts of the property. This didn’t include others, like my parents, who had a tomb in the mausoleum beside the great temple, or those unfortunate neighbors who had resting places of their own.

We had very little to bury in the end. We found two of those sacred silver rings among the ashes. I guessed at which one was my father’s, not sure if I was right, and buried them both with their owners.

I felt guilty as often as I felt sad. It was all a matter of timing. If we’d walked back a few minutes sooner, I’d be gone as well. If Lady Eastoffe had chosen to involve her son with the giving of this ring, he’d still be here. If, if, if. If was a question that gave no answers.

I tied up Madge on a low-hanging branch, scratching behind her ear before I walked down to the temporary stone that marked where what little remained of Silas was laid.

“I’ve tried to talk her out of leaving. I’ve tried twenty different times with as many excuses as I can think of. . . . I don’t think it’s going to work.”

The wind blew through the leaves.

“Well, no, I haven’t tried begging, but it wouldn’t become me. I’m meant to be the mistress of Varinger Hall now. She keeps saying things that remind me of my place. But the thing is . . .” I bit back the tears. “All I wanted to be was the mistress of your home. And now you’re gone, and the house is hardly standing, and I have so much, but it feels like I have nothing.”

The branches rustled.

“I am grateful. I know that living through a situation where I surely ought to have died is a gift, but I cannot think of why in the world the gods would spare me. What use could they possibly have for me?”

There was no sound.

“Jameson has invited me to court. I can’t believe he found the will to forgive me. My guess is it must be rooted in pity.” I shook my head, staring at the horizon. “I will offend the king if I do not go, and I have already given him enough reason to hate me. My only fear is, I think . . . I think I will be forced to let you go.”

I started crying, wiping the tears with the sleeve of my gown. “I used to feel like there was something pulling me to you. I didn’t know what it was, but ever since I first saw you, it felt like there was a string around my heart, tugging me to wherever you were.” I shook my head. “I don’t feel it anymore. But I long to.”