Page 68 of His Betrothed
“My lord, would you like me tosend word to your family of your safe arrival at Wakesfield?”
Spencer tensed; the last thing he needed was to worry that someone would come after his family for information about him. “No,” he said sternly, meeting the old man’s impassive gaze. “I’ve already explained that no one is to know I’m here. I promise you will receive a complete explanation when I can give it.”
He glanced at Roselyn,hoping she thought he meant only an explanation about the two of them. She gazed at him steadily and he wanted to linger, to make his eyes tell her exactly what he thought when he looked at her.
But not in the midst of the Heywood family.
“My lord,” Margaret said, “please forgive our departure, but ’tis the first market day in Shanklin since before the fleets sailed past. Charlotte and LadyRoselyn and I should be going.”
“The merchants have brought new supplies from the mainland?” Roselyn asked, then smiled when the old woman nodded. “Let me fetch my baskets.”
Spencer sat back in his chair and nodded to the men as they each took their leave to begin the day. The women draped kerchiefs around their shoulders and adjusted their caps.
“My lord,” Roselyn said, and he knew those twowords did not sit well on her tongue, “will you be able to return to the cottage by yourself?”
“It will do me good,” he assured her, standing up.
She nodded and turned away, and he found himself watching her hips sway as she walked out the door.
When they were all gone, he limped through the many parlors and halls on the first floor ofWakesfield Manor, not knowing what he was looking for.But it seemed…empty. Just like his home in London.
Though threatening clouds began to build up in the western sky, market day in Shanklin remained a festive affair. Wooden stalls were set up throughout the common, and many farmers had brought their families into the village for the day. The tavern was doing brisk business, and Roselyn received many new orders for her baked goods. She wouldbe spending much time in her bake house.
Would Spencer follow her there again?
She wanted to groan at the ridiculous wanderings of her mind; he had made it quite clear that he was leaving soon. She had failed so far in learning whether he was a spy or not, and was left with only a ridiculous fascination for him.
Stranger still, was the fact that Margaret hadn’t even mentioned Spencer.
WhenCharlotte wandered off to look at hair ribbons, Roselyn said, “Margaret, I’m not sure I understand your good humor. I would have thought you would be quite…disappointed in me.”
Margaret slid her arm through Roselyn’s and smiled. “My dear child, you saved a man’s life. What is there not to be proud of?”
“But I’ve beenlyingto you.”
“Did you feel you were doing the right thing?”
Roselyn openedher mouth, though for a moment nothing came out. “Well…yes.”
“Then I will not judge you, my lady.”
Roselyn lowered her voice. “Are you condoning my living in the same cottage with Lord Thornton?”
A tiny frown gathered the wrinkles on Margaret’s forehead. “He is your betrothed, my dear, and I only want you to be happy.”
Roselyn was almost incapable of speech, which was lucky, since Charlottewas walking towards them, her face beaming.
“Mother, did you ever see such lovely colors? Father said I could have two—”
A sudden scream rent the air, and a stab of terror lodged in Roselyn’s chest. A young woman, a farmer’s daughter whose name Roselyn had forgotten, was running toward the common from the beach, tears on her face.
“There’s a dead man down on the rocks!” she cried, burying herface in her mother’s shoulder.
There were shocked cries and frightened whispers. The men of the village headed down toward the beach, while the women stood clustered together, counting their family members, praying it was no one they knew.
Roselyn stood back, and resisted the urge to say another prayer—because she knew with grim certainty whose body had returned from the ocean.
