9

"How old are you now, Jasper?"

His bright, sapphire eyes met her whisky ones. "Seventeen, mistress."

"Seventeen," she mused, her smile evident in the corners of her mouth. "I was seventeen when I was married." She looked up at him in time to see his neck flush. This time, the smile tugged free, spreading across her face. "Is perhaps marriage a thought upon your mind?"

He cleared his throat, glancing at her anxiously. "It is something I've considered," he said carefully. "Though, I'm not sure I'm worthy of any prospects."

"You are apprenticing under one of the most brilliant minds our village has ever known," she said, her head tilting slightly as she examined him. "One day, you will be a very revered and respected man. Surely your prospects would reflect that?"

Jasper's eyes flickered to her and away, his shame apparent. "No matter how much my master has taught me," he said slowly. "I'll still be a bastard."

Bella flinched. She knew his mother's story as well as anyone in the village. Rosalie Hale had been a friend of Bella's—only five years her senior—when she caught the eye of a soldier passing through town. Rosalie had been a bright, kind person before the soldier came. After he left, she was sullen and withdrawn. No one spoke of it directly, though it was suspected what had happened.

Bella had never recovered from the injustice that Rosalie went through. Something horrible had been done to her, and she—a girl of only fourteen—had been blamed for it.

Rosalie had never married, and when Jasper was old enough, he was sent to apprentice with Monsieur Laurent in the hopes that he would learn a skill valuable enough to overcome the circumstances of his birth. In the eyes of many in the village, Jasper was a hard-working and capable young man, but Bella knew that he was right. In order for his prospects to increase, he'd likely have to leave the village and travel somewhere no one knew him. It was horribly unjust.

"How is your mother?"

Bella felt guilt in her heart that she hadn't seen her old friend in nearly a year now. She made a silent promise to visit Rosalie as soon as she and her husband were home safe.

Jasper smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he squinted at the horizon. "She's well," he said, and his tone suggested something more was happening. Bella's head tilted toward him, curious. "She, uh…" He paused, looking down at his horse's mane. She watched his fingers run over the edges of the reins in his palms. "She has a suitor."

Bella's heart blossomed in joy. "Has she?" she murmured. "That is wonderful news."

Jasper nodded in agreement. "I believe they will be wed in the spring," he continued. Bella's heart felt as light and warm as a sunflower at midday. Rosalie had once been considered the most beautiful girl in their village. It was whispered that she was lovely enough to even catch the eye of nobility, should she so desire. When she became pregnant, there was no shortage of suitors who were offering to wed her, to spare her the shame of a child born out of wedlock. She had refused them all, and privately, Bella had worried the damage done to her friend had been enough to close her heart entirely.

She was happy to hear this was not the case.

She and Jasper rode in companionable silence for a while, Bear barking out on occasion whenever he caught the trail of a rabbit or squirrel.

Near midday, they stopped to water their horses. Jasper slipped into the woods to relieve himself while Bella fetched two apples and wedges of cheese she'd brought for them.

They ate, perched on mossy stones under a cover of sharp green needles. The landscape had changed, converting from fields to forests. Bella knew that this meant they were close to the next village, though she could not recall just how close it was.

"Mistress?"

She looked up, meeting Jasper's gaze. "Yes?"

He cleared his throat. "Why is it you think your husband is in some sort of trouble?"

She swallowed hard. "My husband is a very considerate man," she said after a moment. "He knows how I worry about him when his work takes him from home. He always sends word to me if he will be longer than he expected."

Jasper frowned. "And he hasn't sent anything?"

Bella shook her head. "No, not in two days."

Jasper looked down at the apple in his hands. "Do you think…" He paused, and Bella watched the boy curiously. He glanced at her, looking embarrassed. "Nevermind. I don't wish to offend you."

"Please, speak your mind."

Jasper hesitated. "Do you think he might have something to do with it?" When she frowned, his chin jutted back in the direction of the village. "The dead walking."

Bella let out a breath. "I'll tell you again, Jasper. The dead are not walking."

He looked skeptical. "But do you think he's got something to do with it?"

Bella hesitated. "They were his coffins that were unearthed," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on the apple between her palms. "But, that's not saying anything. All the coffins for miles around us are his." She shook her head. Still, she couldn't shake the hollow feeling in her stomach that her husband did have something to do with the current mystery in town.

What his role was though, she had no idea.