Dawn held out her hand where faint green traces criss-crossed over the back. “It germinated in first moment you touched me. The seed appeared in my palm and wriggled to break free like a chick emerging from an egg.”
A faint laugh blew from between Jasper’s lips. “Is that why you snatched your hand away? I thought you didn’t like me.”
Nothing could be further from the truth, and she fought the desire to cast doe eyes at him. Not that she exactly knew what doe eyes were, but on the odd occasion she observed young couples in town, it seemed the sort of look a woman gave to the young man holding her hand. “I thought I had gone mad. One moment the seed was there, and then it disappeared.”
She rubbed at the lines but they stayed. How did an invisible plant leave a mark? It was a faint trace like that left by ivy suckers after you pulled them away from brickwork. A memory of what once clung there.
Jasper watched her worry at the mark. “Over time, if you consent, the vine will tattoo your skin with an intricate design.”
Tattoos? How scandalous. At least this type didn’t involve a needle and hours of pain. If she consented to the union between them, would she turn into a circus attraction with every inch of skin covered? “How far will the mark extend?”
He took her hand and led her back toward the main house, Mouse trotting at their heels. “The vine is still deciding, but usually it will settle on a spot on your arm. Among my kind it is a visible symbol of a connection.”
“Like a wedding ring?” She wondered if his kind married. His older brother never took Ava as his bride, although wider society would expect an earl to produce a legitimate heir. She assumed Jasper’s parents were wed since the earldom fell to his head. If some wed and some did not, it raised the question of how they decided. What factors influenced the decision to say their vows before a priest?
“Yes, but the Cor-vitis’ mark is more permanent since it cannot be removed,” he said.
On her hand, the lines faded before her eyes only to reform in a different pattern. “Unless I chopped my arm off.”
He stopped on the path and stared at her, the familiar frown back between his brows. “Why would you do that?”
It would seem her attempt at humour had failed, especially since the scratch decided at that point to heat up. She should see Dr Day before she was a limb short. “I was trying to be funny. You said the mark could not be removed, but you could remove the limb if you were determined.”
“That’s not funny.” The frown deepened.
Dawn made a mental note that jokes were not to be considered again. She had seen the spark of humour in his eyes so at least she knew he could laugh.
“Do you still want to drive to the village?” Thankfully Jasper changed the subject.
“Yes, that would be lovely, if I could wash first though?” Her fear and grief over Lettie’s words about her parents receded. Events couldn’t be changed, but they could be understood, and she hoped Jasper’s enquiries in Whetstone brought her some peace of mind.
“I’ll meet you in the courtyard in half an hour.” He kissed her hand and left her at the cottage door.
Within, Dawn washed her hands and face and brushed her hair that had come loose during her dash through the trees. Then she twirled it back into a bun and secured it with pins. She picked up the bottle of heart tonic and sloshed the liquid back and forth. With each day, she relied on it less. Could she have found the cure that eluded all the doctors they consulted?
Her mood was lighter as she trod the path to the courtyard. Other women might prefer trips to buy dresses or hats, but Dawn grew excited thinking of the range of plants she might find in a catalogue. Her black aquilegia seemed plain by comparison to the imported beauties that might now be within her grasp. She checked her pocket for her notebook. Already ideas swirled with possible themes for the herbaceous borders.
In front of the stables she found Jasper with a black frock coat over his waistcoat and a top hat on his head. He stood by a gleaming black curricle. In the harness was a smart dark bay with a shiny coat.
Dawn wiped her hands down her skirt and hoped her plain attire was good enough to be seen with him. She surveyed the lightweight curricle. It would be close quarters for two adults, let alone a pony-sized dog. “Where will we put Mouse?”
The frown reappeared and Jasper rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. He will not fit, I am afraid. We will simply have to leave him behind.”
When his gaze lit on Dawn, it was full of sly humour. He could most definitely share a joke when the mood suited him.
The wolfhound sat and stared at the curricle and then at Dawn. She patted his head. “I’m sorry, boy, you will have to stay and supervise Hector.”
The dog huffed and fur blew up out of his eyes.
Jasper handed Dawn up and she muttered under her breath so Mouse wouldn’t hear, “You chose the curricle on purpose. The gig has ample room for Mouse.”
By the time he climbed in next to her, the frown was long gone and he grinned. “And now I have you all alone, Miss Uxbridge.” He twirled an imaginary moustache and then slapped the reins against the horse’s rump to make it trot on.
Dawn laughed as they headed down the driveway and into the waiting embrace of the old oaks and elms. “Do you spend much time at the mill?”
“Most of the paperwork I do in my study. Once a week I visit to discuss matters with the manager. I try to leave it to more capable hands than mine to oversee daily operations.”
“Do all Warders work to provide for their districts?” Dawn had thought most peers were engaged in spending money, not producing it. Elementals seemed to have a different mind-set than the rest of society.
“Yes. Power comes with responsibility, and it is up to each Lord Warder to do all he can to provide for those living in his jurisdiction. We help as many as we can. We also have a care for Gaia. When you live for centuries, you must ensure there are sufficient resources for each generation.” His hands tightened on the reins.
“It must be difficult when Alysblud has only you to rely upon.” How many Elementals did it take to safeguard a district? She had no idea and could only think of it like a business that required managers and senior employees, down to the young children who swept the floors. Or were they more like soldiers, fighting off the Soarers? Was Jasper an army of one?
His attention stayed fixed on the path as he guided the horse past the yellow and red station house by the railway platform. “Elijah is a fine young man. When he is older he will establish his own household, and we hope that over the coming decades, we will increase our numbers to adequately guard our region.”
“Oh.” Dawn doubted that increasing their numbers referred to some sort of recruitment policy but more likely natural procreation. She held in her questions and tried to control the blush that threatened under her dress. Her mind cast around for another topic of conversation so she wouldn’t blurt out the thought wriggling on the tip of her tongue.
The horse trotted past the doctor’s house and the overgrown lavender that edged the path. The spent heads that needed lopping off distracted her thoughts. “Have you known Dr Day for long?”
Jasper glanced at the stone house and then turned back to the road in front of them. “All his life. Grayson was born here, and his father was Lettie’s physician before him. He used to play with Elijah when he was a boy, and then I paid for him to attend the best schools so he could earn his medical degree.”
The horse and curricle slowed as more villagers walked along the road, and up ahead a flock of sheep blocked the road. The horse halted to give men, dog, and sheep time to flow through an open gateway.