Diego sat in the wicker garden chair with his feet propped up and wrapped up warmly. He was sketching the back of Lady Katherine's cottage, intrigued by its uniquely English charms.
Lady Katherine was clipping back her private rose collection, a section of garden beds fenced off from the rest of the garden. A team of gardeners led by an experienced head gardener dealt with the rest of the flowers and foliage. Diego glanced at the lady now and then, lighting sketching a profile portrait, a more private artwork than the rest.
She waved to him with a small genuine smile. Perspiration glistened on her flushed face. The bonnet had slipped from her head some time ago, and sat on its ribbon at her back. Dressed in a pretty floral dressed, she had at least at the sense to put a gardening apron and some gloves to protect her hands. She was intent on her roses, and nothing seemed to distract her for long.
"How is our fine hero this morning, young sir?" The head gardener greeted Diego as he started clipping a hedge nearby.
"Very day is a little easier, Mr Fendal," Diego murmured, glancing up from his drawing. "Sorry…Tom."
"That's the way, Sir. Tom it is," the gardener said with a smile. "You'll soon be dancing with the ladies again, then?"
Diego smiled, touching up a few lines in the sketch. "Mmm-hmm."
Diego glanced down for a moment, considering something. "What happened to Lady Katherine? She seems so sad…so downcast…"
"You are a perceptive gent. She would be sad…"
Diego added some light shading to the drawing, with a gentle hand.
"Until the week before you saved her, Lady Katherine had never left her father's house and immediate grounds. Never once…" Tom said. Diego lifted an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Never had a cruel word to say to anyone. As harmless as a newborn babe. A daughter of a Duke with no recognition? Born on the right side of the blankets and all…it ain't right sir. People of high rank…they have no shame."
The man eyed Diego nervously.
"No high rank here," Diego assured him as he smudged a shading to simulate a shadow.
"All she is, all she knows is….was innocence. Impulsive, headstrong as a thoroughbred colt, but as innocent as the day she was born."
Diego's eyes picked up vague movement. A gardener working near the rose garden had come to Lady Katherine's aid, guiding her gently to the garden bench. Her slender frame was convulsing as she sobbed outrightly once, and then buried her face in her hands, rocking slightly in silent grief.
Tom's eyes followed his gaze.
"Poor mite, she's at it again."
"Is she alright?" Diego said, putting down his charcoal pencil. He thought about going to her, but hesitated. What could he say? If he even managed to walk all that way, he'd still be at a loss.
"Having a cry…females…She weeps so much she makes herself physically ill at times. Only natural I suppose…."
"Abducted she was…" Tom added.
"Abducted?!" So the calm environment of pastures of flowers and frolicking lambs had its dark side.
"On the way to Gretna Green. With a lad from the stables. They thought they were in love, foolish children," Tom said with a sigh.
"Gretna Green?" Diego had heard of the place somewhere but didn't understand the importance of the location.
"Church there will marry runaways," Tom explained briefly. "Damned nuisance if you ask me. We're close enough to make it tempting."
"Where is the stable lad now?" Diego asked, adding detailed ivy leaves to his sketch, trailing them up the wall of his pencilled cottage. He knew the answer. It was all too obvious.
"Poor soul is dead," Tom said. "She cradled him as he died. He would have had a painful death. Whoever they were, they were obviously after the lad. Vicious…Knifed multiple times."
Diego nodded thoughtfully, lowering his pencil as his hand began to shake. A tear traced largely unnoticed down his face. Diego let it fall, but swallowed his powerful emotions.
"You ask me, those cut throats ravished her. Whatever happened, she had patchy memories at best."
Anger flared through Diego. It was almost a forgotten emotion, as it snowballed slowly into rage. Hurt pride and despair, hopelessness and apathy, had been the run of his emotions. The red hot rage sparked something he thought was gone with the death of Victoria. Memories came unbidden to the surface of his mind, and made him gasp. He turned it into a sigh.
"The mind deals with what it can, and disregards the rest," Diego murmured.
"Indeed…Robbie had a good heart. He meant no harm, he probably did love her. Ah...well. The world can be a nasty place."
Diego nodded, and gave up on his sketch for the rest of the day. The tremors in his body were not going to let him continue properly anyway, his artwork would suffer. He picked up his copy of Ivanhoe and began to read the novel again.
Tom nodded to himself and smiled with growing fondness for the young man.
Diego glanced towards the rose garden. Lady Katherine had regained her composure and was back on task, as if nothing had disturbed her in the slightest. She was a strong woman, Diego thought - an admirable woman.