alone.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my full plan when I left,” Kensey began, but her mother held up a delicate hand.
“That’s not what I came here to discuss with you. Your… father…” Gabrielle stopped as though just saying his name might be too much for her. “You can be disciplined at any time. But we are running out of time for me to talk with you, woman to woman.”
A violent cough shook her mother’s body and Kensey grabbed her shoulders. The woman was skin and bones and it barely took any effort for Kensey to hold her up. She swallowed hard. The illness must be worse than she thought.
“Do you know why your father has never secured another engagement for you, after Albert?”
“I assumed Father had some plan for me here.”
“Let me tell you something, dear.” Gabrielle pulled Kensey’s hands into her own and held them plaintively before her. “Your father loves you very much. And he wants both you and Robert to know the kind of love for yourselves that he and I have found.”
Kensey felt tears forming in her eyes and tried to blink them away. Whenever Gabrielle spoke to her like this, she felt as though her mother were preparing her for her death, or for the day they would send her away to marry a man she didn’t know or love, like Gerald Sutherland had done to Fiona.
“He wants you to find your own heart’s love,” continued Gabrielle, wiping a tear from Kensey’s cheek. “But if you force him to make an alliance for you, he will.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that if your father had seen you with this Malcolm today, he would have insisted the boy make an offer of marriage right away. I know the French court, and I’m sure the rules are still much more relaxed there, but here, behavior like that precludes that you have already committed to the marriage union.”
Kensey could not respond to her mother’s condescension. She feared that if she tried to stand up for herself, she might launch into her strange experience with the outcast Sinclair—which would surely displease her mother. The man had no family, after all. And she knew nothing about him, except that he made her heart race when he looked at her, or her skin burn when he touched her, or her insides warm when she thought of him.
Where had that come from? Perhaps she’d been thinking of Albert too much today. Granted, her former fiancé had never produced the kind of heat that crept upon her at the thought of her rescuer, but they had been so close to those feelings, she knew the natural progression of arranged marriages. First affection, then desire, then love.
“I do not intend to marry Malcolm Sinclair.”
“Please.” Gabrielle reached for her hand. “I do not intend to discuss this with… well, with anyone. I merely wanted you to understand my feelings. I do so want you to know true love for yourself.”
Kensey walked past her mother and leaned onto a far crenel, watching Robert swing his wooden sword through the air and land over and over on a defenseless tree trunk. “I think I loved Albert.”
But even as she spoke the words aloud, Kensey wondered if she truly meant them. Memories of affection were often intensified by betrayal, her attendant, Agnes, had often told her.
Gabrielle laughed. “If you only think you loved him, you did not.”
Kensey turned and admired the broad smile that lit Gabrielle’s features. She was so beautiful. “I remember loving him.”
“If you’d really loved him, you would never be able to forget it.” Gabrielle put a hand over her heart. “Besides that, he never loved you, or he would not have thrown you over for a woman half your rank and station. Men only make foolish decisions for love.”
Kensey laughed. The bright noon sun beat down, making the back of her neck a bit sticky under her still dirty hair. She badly needed a bath.
“Please promise me.” Gabrielle continued. “You must promise me you will be more discreet. I
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my full plan when I left,” Kensey began, but her mother held up a delicate hand.
“That’s not what I came here to discuss with you. Your… father…” Gabrielle stopped as though just saying his name might be too much for her. “You can be disciplined at any time. But we are running out of time for me to talk with you, woman to woman.”
A violent cough shook her mother’s body and Kensey grabbed her shoulders. The woman was skin and bones and it barely took any effort for Kensey to hold her up. She swallowed hard. The illness must be worse than she thought.
“Do you know why your father has never secured another engagement for you, after Albert?”
“I assumed Father had some plan for me here.”
“Let me tell you something, dear.” Gabrielle pulled Kensey’s hands into her own and held them plaintively before her. “Your father loves you very much. And he wants both you and Robert to know the kind of love for yourselves that he and I have found.”
Kensey felt tears forming in her eyes and tried to blink them away. Whenever Gabrielle spoke to her like this, she felt as though her mother were preparing her for her death, or for the day they would send her away to marry a man she didn’t know or love, like Gerald Sutherland had done to Fiona.
“He wants you to find your own heart’s love,” continued Gabrielle, wiping a tear from Kensey’s cheek. “But if you force him to make an alliance for you, he will.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that if your father had seen you with this Malcolm today, he would have insisted the boy make an offer of marriage right away. I know the French court, and I’m sure the rules are still much more relaxed there, but here, behavior like that precludes that you have already committed to the marriage union.”
Kensey could not respond to her mother’s condescension. She feared that if she tried to stand up for herself, she might launch into her strange experience with the outcast Sinclair—which would surely displease her mother. The man had no family, after all. And she knew nothing about him, except that he made her heart race when he looked at her, or her skin burn when he touched her, or her insides warm when she thought of him.
Where had that come from? Perhaps she’d been thinking of Albert too much today. Granted, her former fiancé had never produced the kind of heat that crept upon her at the thought of her rescuer, but they had been so close to those feelings, she knew the natural progression of arranged marriages. First affection, then desire, then love.
“I do not intend to marry Malcolm Sinclair.”
“Please.” Gabrielle reached for her hand. “I do not intend to discuss this with… well, with anyone. I merely wanted you to understand my feelings. I do so want you to know true love for yourself.”
Kensey walked past her mother and leaned onto a far crenel, watching Robert swing his wooden sword through the air and land over and over on a defenseless tree trunk. “I think I loved Albert.”
But even as she spoke the words aloud, Kensey wondered if she truly meant them. Memories of affection were often intensified by betrayal, her attendant, Agnes, had often told her.
Gabrielle laughed. “If you only think you loved him, you did not.”
Kensey turned and admired the broad smile that lit Gabrielle’s features. She was so beautiful. “I remember loving him.”
“If you’d really loved him, you would never be able to forget it.” Gabrielle put a hand over her heart. “Besides that, he never loved you, or he would not have thrown you over for a woman half your rank and station. Men only make foolish decisions for love.”
Kensey laughed. The bright noon sun beat down, making the back of her neck a bit sticky under her still dirty hair. She badly needed a bath.
“Please promise me.” Gabrielle continued. “You must promise me you will be more discreet. I
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