“Yet you are here.”

“It is different.” She offered a sly smirk. “My horse can outrun his.”

Edmund, boyish and sweet, reached out to tug her braid. “I would never have imagined your hair was so long.” He lifted the rope, the braid filled with knots of blue, green, and white ribbon to keep the spirits of ill health away.

Arabella did not know what to say, so she asked after his family.

Disappointed she had not reacted as his sisters might have—with playful squealing and the batting of his hand—Edmund relented and set her braid free. “Lizzy misses you terribly, and Lilly is well enough. Mama has enjoyed your letters, reading them out to us again and again... and to anyone who should visit.”

That earned a chuckle. “I am glad she enjoyed my efforts. And which neighbors found my exploits the most entertaining?”

Edmund graced her with a lighthearted list of families who had called and what their reactions had been to the baroness’s time with the town. Amongst the callers was the very man whose land they trespassed on. Mr. Harrow, had come only once, and left as soon as every letter was read in full.

Arabella glanced up at Edmund. “And I suppose the two of you have become great friends now.”

“He is not one of my closer acquaintances.”

Too tired to hide her relief, she sighed. “It is cruel to say, but I am glad of it.”

For once Edmund was serious. “You disapprove of him for Lilly.”

“I should keep my opinion to myself, I suppose.” But Arabella owed Edmund more than her personal misgivings. She owed him whatever truths life had forced her to learn. “Fact is, the more I see of marriage, the more I realize personal feelings have little to do with it.”

Edmund interrupted, “So it is feeling that appeals to you?”

Tripping on her words, she explained her reluctance. “I disliked marriage so strongly that there is nothing outside of dire need that would ever convince me to take a hold of the institution again. As a widow, I am free to do as I please and go where I wish.”

“And you still could as a wife.”

She gave a weary snort, running a hand over her hair. “We both know that is not true...”

Edmund saw her melancholy, and mentioned what he’d suspected over the weeks. “Unlike my mother and sisters, I found your letters rather forced, your ladyship... and now you are pale. Rumors are the doctor was sent for.”

“This will not do, Mr. Jenkins.” She stilled her horse, the emptiness of the open moors more appealing than pretending that she was something she was not. “To be blunt, continuing your family’s association with Baroness Iliffe could bring you harm—hurt Lilly and Lizzy’s chances, not to mention your own.”

“London made you unwell.” The man seemed unshaken by her honesty. “In a few days, you will feel differently.”

Unable to meet his eyes, Arabella continued. “I like your family very much, and for that reason, it would be in your best interest to cut ties with me. Publically.”

Temper came to his voice, Edmund unsmiling and firm. “I will do no such thing, Lady Iliffe. Now is the time to rely on friends. I would help you, if you would let me.”

The intimacy of the exchange made her heart ache. Closing her eyes, she struggled to explain. “I was not born a gentleman’s daughter, and as such, much could be said that would degrade me in society.”

“Because you were born a gypsy...” Edmund found her near tears when she opened her eyes. “I heard you with the old woman in the tent. You spoke their language.”

“If you knew all this time, why have you allowed me to call upon your family? Why have you not exposed me to the neighborhood?”

He left longing open in his expression, in his voice... in the way he tried to take her hand. “I admire you, your ladyship.”

Breath hitching, Arabella replied, “Mr. Jenkins, I am no more a baroness than I am an Englishwoman.”

Countering her confession, Edmund entreated, “My grandfather was in trade. He elevated us to gentry. Before that the Jenkins sold lumber.”

The tenor of his statement, the man’s virtue, changed nothing. “That is a far cry different than a Romani. The English hate us... society hates me. All I want, all most Romani want, is to be left in peace. It is an impossible goal.”

“If you did not want to live in society, you would not try so hard,” the man urged. “Just think, of how much you would pine for Lizzy.” Cautiously, Edmund squeezed her hand. “Leave London in London, and come visit those who call you friend. We will cheer you from this melancholy. I am certain.”

Arabella could not understand how she had earned such a friendship. “When I am feeling a little better, I will attend you if you will have me.”

Tags: Addison Cain Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net