“My lord,” Will tried, “I can bring her back to the castle after supper. I know my mother would be happy to see and feed her.”
“Another time,” the marquess said without giving her a chance to reply. “We have many doors to check, and I’d like to get started.”
He reached his arm down to Aria and waited for her to take his hand. When she did, he pulled her up.
He didn’t ride right off, denying Will another word, but waited for at least five breaths, giving her a chance to bid her friend a possibly permanent farewell. And then he moved around her, encompassing her and tightening his thighs around his horse until the animal bolted away.
“You should use a saddle,” she said when the horse slowed to a trot.
“Ghost doesn’t like them,” he told her, his voice vibrating against her back. She closed her eyes to fight off the dizzying effect he had on her. “She wore one for a long time and would prefer to be free.”
Aria wondered if he was speaking of his horse, or himself?
I’m a puppet.
His words and the heavy voice in which he spoke them were still fresh in her mind. She had wondered who pulled his strings, but it didn’t really matter who. How could he heal from his childhood? That’s what mattered. But surely, it couldn’t be up to her to heal him. She had a family who needed her! She wanted to shout it—especially so Mrs. B.—wherever or whenever she was—could hear it. Instead, she remained quiet on the way back to Dartmouth—doing her best to ignore the low flying raven above them.
When they arrived at the castle, the marquess dismounted, then instead of helping her down, he leaned in closer to his horse’s head and scratched the mare’s nose.
Finally, as if what he had to do next was the most unsavory task, he moved closer to Aria and held his arms up to her.
Was she to fall into them? She looked around the stable but didn’t see the stool. With her face burning up and her jaw clenched tight, she closed her eyes and let herself tip over.
And would have landed hard on her rump if he hadn’t caught her in the cradle of his arms at the last second.
“My apologies,” he said, staring down at her. “I wasn’t expecting you to collapse as if dead.”
He sounded cool and detached. He looked unfazed and uninterested, but he didn’t put her down until she insisted he do so before they reached the castle entrance.
He set her on her feet, letting his sea-colored gaze linger on hers before he glanced up at the raven, then moved away.
“Wash up,” he said, taking his first few steps away backward. “I’ll see you in the dining hall.”
“My lord—” Would she ever get used to calling him that? “I don’t know—”
“Sarah will help you.”
Was that the hint of a smile she just saw on his lips? What did he find humorous about her not being familiar with how things were run in a castle? He’d almost smiled. That’s what was important.
Why? Why did she feel glad that he’d smiled? She wasn’t there for him. There had to be a mistake. Didn’t she have enough on her plate? She couldn’t be responsible for his healing.
Before she could stop him, he went inside and bounded up the stairs.
Aria found Sarahtidying her rooms. Will’s sister seemed sullen while she dusted a table in the small sitting room. She barely looked up when Aria entered.
“Diedre told me you were out with the marquess,” she complained gently when Aria pressed her to tell her what the matter was.
“Yes, he took me to see Will at your house.”
Sarah gave her a hopeful grin. “My brother?” She sighed with relief when Aria nodded. “Will must have been pleased.”
Aria smiled but said nothing. What was there to say? She and Will had no future.
“I need to wash up and go to dinner,” she told Sarah. “Will you help me? I don’t know what I should wear or where I should go.”
Sarah seemed to forget the marquess and tended to Aria with great care. Aria guessed Will’s sister wouldn’t be happy about her and the marquess disappearing after they ate in order to try fitting an odd key into the keyholes of the castle’s many doors.
“You know a lot about the marquess,” she mentioned to Sarah as the girl tied her hair up with over a dozen pins.