Shadows

I

Time held its breath. The westering sun sunk nearer the horizon. I awaited this solitary moment all year. Rising to my knees on the window seat, I pressed my forehead against the glass. A yellow beam suddenly flashed, capturing me in its glorious light. Transfixed, I basked in the final rays of spring equinox.

Everstow Manor sat in the correct position to catch the spectacular occurrence. I wondered if the original builder planned for the event or if it happened accidentally. Papa did not know the answer, nor did Joel or Grayson. The spring equinox did not hold the same fascination with them as it did with me. Perhaps my romantic disposition spurred my curiosity.

My life, up until that time, was idyllic. The Manor sat slightly north of Everstow village with its row of shops, public house, and Norman church. The villagers stood aside when we rode along the wide main road, bowing their heads slightly with respect. Joel took the lead, his head held high, while Grayson and I trotted in his wake. Our fine horses stepped lively, and we wore the most fashionable riding attire.

Dinah hung on the vicarage gate as we passed. I raised my hand in a friendly wave and halted. She came through the gate and stood in the road at my horse's flank. Grayson stopped beside me, but Joel continued until he realized we weren't following. He waited impatiently for us to continue.

"Good morning," Dinah greeted, her rosy lips smiling.

Gray and I returned her salutation, commenting on the lovely spring weather.

"Mama is baking jam tarts for the spring fete. Would you like to sample them? With a glass of cider, perhaps?"

"That sounds delightful," Grayson replied, sliding from his mount. He held my horse while I dismounted and then tethered the reins to the fence. I slid my hand into his proffered elbow, and he opened the gate.

Joel remained in the road, glaring at us. He returned and reluctantly joined us. He did not find the same delight in our young cousin as Gray and me. In fact, he avoided Dinah whenever possible. Papa and Mama expected a match between them, but Joel kept himself aloof. He had no intention of marrying Dinah and made his feelings clear.

The vicarage stood behind a low stone wall surrounded by a well-kept garden. We stepped into the parlor while Dinah went into the kitchen. Gray and I sat on the settee while Joel stood in the bow window. He kept his back to us, his hands clasped behind him.

"Blanchard is expecting our return," he stated.

I exchanged a glance with Grayson and settled further into the seat cushions. I was not in a hurry to return to the schoolroom. An hour or so away from our desks gave me pleasure. I would rather eat jam tarts and sip cider with Dinah.

When Aunt Constance appeared with our refreshment, Joel made his excuses and departed. Dinah relaxed, and we chatted amiably over the delicious tarts. After an hour, Grayson stood and, bowing gracefully, thanked the vicar's wife for the lovely repast. My cousin followed us to the gate and said her goodbyes.

"Joel was quite rude, Priss," Gray stated, walking his horse beside mine.

"Quite." I nodded in agreement. We lapsed into silence and headed toward home.

"He does not wish to marry Dinah," my brother continued after an interval.

"Dinah does not wish to marry Joel," I countered.

"Quite." Grayson focused on the village road until we turned onto the evergreen-lined drive. "Perhaps he will see things differently after he returns from Oxford."