“I admit I’ve liked him my whole life,” Sarah whispered with a giggle. “I felt sorry for him…and for myself because I knew who I was, the daughter of a carpenter. He was nobility, the son of a duke. He would never be allowed to…that’s why the other boys hated him, because he was so far above them.”
“What happened that day your father died? Do you believe the stories that he can communicate with animals?” She wouldn’t tell Sarah about the raven that seemed to follow him all the time. Or about how Ghost didn’t like being saddled. “And…just leave the back of my hair down. I don’t like all those pins.”
“I was young when it happened,” Sarah said and plucked two pins from Aria’s hair. “Six to be exact, but Harry cried about it every night for almost two months. He and the other boys were shooting arrows to see who had the best aim. Harry’s arrow hit Abigail the goose.” She pulled more pins and let Aria’s long, chestnut tresses spill down her back. “They ran away but Harry returned later to see if she lived or died. Her body was gone. He said he followed a trail of droplets of blood and found the duke’s son burying the goose in the forest. Lord Dartmouth knew Harry was the one who struck his friend. How would he know unless Abigail told him? He and Harry fought but then the forest animals began to come out of their hiding places to bite Harry. He said Lord Dartmouth was smiling. A wolf entered the glade and attacked Harry, but our father appeared and shot it. Harry says the boy called out for help and a large raven came and…” She stopped, unable to go on.
Aria took her hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“Oh, Aria, you’re shivering. I’m quite alright, really. I wouldn’t say the same for Harry.”
“Of course,” Aria said. She had the intention of speaking to Harry. According to the marquess, and now his own sister, Harry was a terrible bully toward the duke’s motherless son. She wanted to ask the marquess about that day and hear his side of it, not just Harry’s.
“Word of the incident traveled throughout all the villages, and soon almost everyone came against the young lord, Grayson Barrington. People wanted to stone him when they heard Harry’s sickbed tale. Thankfully, they were too afraid of the duke to lay a finger on his son. None of us were allowed to play with him. He didn’t have a single friend, not a soul to cry to—even his grandmother had left. Thank the good Lord for Harper Black. She stepped in and dealt with all the hostility Lord Dartmouth could muster. She finally reached him. She used to take him beyond the wall to the forest against his father’s wishes and let him practice his dancing to the music she played on her violin. We knew what she was doing, and we knew the trouble she would get into if the duke found out. He never did. We kept it secret from everyone else.”
“We?”
“Will and I,” Sarah told her.
“Why would Will care about what happened to the boy who supposedly got his father killed?”
“At the time, Will didn’t believe the stories about communicating with animals. He liked Lord Dartmouth, but Harry’s rantings finally got to him.”
“But not you?” Aria asked her.
Sarah shook her pretty head. “I worked here. I used to sneak off and watch him dance in the woods. I believed that he could speak to animals, and they understood him. Mayhap I should hate him too, but I had seen him with Abigail the goose when it was alive. Every memory I have of him before that day is him with that goose. That’s why I believed the stories. I had heard him speaking with Abigail, and many other animals. He would laugh for no reason at all—no reason the rest of us knew. They were his friends. If he was beaten up by my brother, the animals would have gotten involved. It’s the only reason so many animals attacked Harry and my father.”
“But if he had that kind of power, wouldn’t he have used it on your brother when everyone turned against him?”
Sarah shook her head. “After the incident, the village men were permitted to go out and hunt the animals responsible for what happened. They killed everything that moved in the forest. After that, I never saw the marquess smile or talk to an animal again.”
Aria wiped her eyes. The punishment was harsh for the animals and for the little boy who loved them.
She had had enough of being pampered and rose up from her seat so fast she nearly knocked Sarah over. She helped the youngest Gable to her feet, then hurried out the door.
When she heard Sarah behind her, she slowed a bit, getting a hold of herself. “I’m so hungry.” She laughed when her stomach rumbled to prove it and picked up her steps again. The delicious smells coming from the last set of double doors in the hall weren’t the reason her slippered feet hurried to get there faster. She wanted to see the marquess. She shouldn’t have asked Sarah so many questions. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to see him comforted.
For the first time she didn’t think about getting home.
Sarah stopped her from pulling open the doors herself and plunging into the dining hall. Instead, she waited while a male servant opened the doors for her.
She entered first, then turned to look over her shoulder for Sarah when the girl fell back.
As if he’d been waiting for her, the marquess appeared at her side and escorted her to his table. There was no one else sitting at it. “Do you sit alone every night?”
“I don’t usually dine here,” he told her, looking ruthlessly handsome with his naturally raven hair combed back away from his face, his lithe body dressed for dinner in claret velvet and lace. “And when I do, Harper used to sit here.”
“She doesn’t anymore?” Aria asked him as she sat in the empty chair near his.
“No.”
“Why not? I understood her to be very important to you.”
He didn’t answer but sat down and looked at her, into her eyes as if he were searching for the meaning of life. Her instinct was to look away from such careful examination, but Aria fought it and stared back at him. She felt the risk of it almost immediately when he tore away her layers. What would he do if he discovered the passionate woman buried deep beneath piles of responsibility? She didn’t want that part of herself to be exposed.
She almost breathed out loud when he slid his gaze away first. She didn’t say anything else while dinner was served. What was she even doing here? Had Mrs. B. really sent her? Why? Lord Grayson Barrington was too dangerous to her. Could he tempt her to forget the doors?
“If we don’t find what you’re looking for tonight, I’ll take you out in the morning to search the forest.”
“Thank you,” she said with her two-pronged forkful of venison paused at her lips.