He nodded. “You could be correct, so I’m being an ass. I wouldn’t want to change a single detail about you. You are absolutely fascinating, and I’m sure—if you attempted to conform to any of society’s rules—you would fail miserably.”
“I’m sure of it too.”
She scooted away and went to the front door. He dawdled, feeling horribly besotted. He was anxious to tarry, but that was idiotic. No doubt his lengthy absence had been noted at the manor, so he’d have to invent a few alibis.
He followed her, and she continued on outside and proceeded through the gate to where his horse was tethered. She nuzzled with the animal, leaving Jacob with the distinct impression that they really were chatting.
“Are you and my horse conversing again?” he said as he sauntered up. “What’s he complaining about today?”
“He’s tired of waiting for you to depart, and he’s afraid you’ll be very late getting home. He hopes you won’t blame him for your being tardy.”
“I won’t even ask if that’s true or not. It probably is.”
He kissed her a final time, and this one was more urgent and desperate, and to his great disgust, he was hastily calculating how quickly he’d be able to see her again.
He pulled away, and he assessed the dark woods. They seemed sinister. “I worry about you and Clara living so far out of the way. If I could find you a house nearer to some neighbors, what would you think of that? Or maybe even in the village?”
“I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn’t like to move. I’m happy here, and I’m grateful for what’s been provided. I don’t need more than what I have.”
“I’ll stop by tomorrow. I don’t know when, so it will be a surprise.”
“I suppose it would be futile to tell you you shouldn’t.”
“Yes, it would be futile, and if you visit the manor, you’re aware that I must be notified.”
“I shall inform you of my presence, so we can . . . what?”
“I’ll let that be a surprise too.”
“Should I remind you that your sister and your fiancée are at the manor?”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Yes, you have. What, precisely, will we do after I accost you?”
He stood very still, struggling to deduce his reply. He pictured himself picking her up, racing up the stairs to his bedchamber, and debauching her for hours on end, and he chuckled, deciding he was a smitten fool.
“I have no idea what we’ll do. We’ll figure it out as we go forward.”
He stepped away and mounted his horse, and as he stared down at her, there was such a perception swirling that he’d arrived exactly where he was meant to be, but that was an insane sentiment.
He gave her a mock salute, then he tugged on the reins and trotted away. As he hurried off, he was eager to glance back, to wave, to discover if she was watching and waving too, but he forced himself to look straight ahead.
For pity’s sake, he’d see her the next day. He had to cease his obsessing, but he missed her already, and he had to physically prevent himself from turning and cantering back to remain by her side.
Joanna loafed by her gate until he was swallowed up by the trees. He’d stayed much too long, so Clara would have to walk part of the distance by herself. The lane from the village was safe, but Joanna liked to show up and accompany her. Before she could depart though, she had to check one little detail.
She dashed into the cottage and proceeded directly to her workroom. She retrieved her cards, and she laid them on the table, shuffling them, filling them with energy.
She debated whether to inquire about her own situation, but it was pointless to divine her fate. Most times, her future was shielded.
Instead, she had to learn something about the Captain. She wasn’t positive what his query had been, but she had her suspicions, and the response he’d received was absurd. It was blatantly evident that he was about to marry the love of his life, but she didn’t understand how that could be even remotely true.
She’d finally been introduced to Roxanne Ralston, and Miss Ralston was a vain, conceited shrew who berated and intimidated the servants. She was unpleasant and unlikable, and Joanna couldn’t imagine why any man would wed her. She definitely couldn’t fathom how the Captain would find even a modicum of contentment with her.
Joanna placed her hand on the stack, and she posed her question aloud: “Is Roxanne Ralston the love of Jacob Ralston’s life? Will she make him happy forever?”
She selected a card, and it was titled, Death. She selected several others—just to be certain—and on observing how they arranged themselves, she grinned with satisfaction.
There was no doubt that Jacob Ralston was about to wed, and it would be to the bride who was destined to be his partner. That message had been quite plain. But it wouldn’t be Roxanne Ralston, so he was in for a few wild months.
He wasn’t the sort who liked upheaval though, and she’d garner enormous amusement as events unfolded and pummeled him in a manner he’d never expect.
She tucked the deck away, then grabbed her shawl and bonnet. She rushed off to meet Clara, and she smiled all the way.
“My brother mentioned that he’s met you.”
Margaret studied Miss James, thinking she was so pretty. What had Jacob thought of her?
Despite the fact that Jacob’s engagement was about to become official, he was still a bachelor. He was home, where he was always bored, so it probably wasn’t a good idea to have him bumping into such a tempting siren.
Should Margaret cancel Miss James’s visits?
“Your brother and I have conversed,” Miss James said.
“I’m aware that you discussed me with him. In the future, please don’t.”
Miss James’s cheeks heated. “I apologize. He heard I was tending you, and he demanded to know why you were ailing. It was