Juliet laughed. That was it.
Richard.
A few moments later, they both rode out of Estfield, side by side, feeling the cloudy air blow on their faces. They raced each other at one point and went slow, sometimes later. Juliet saw, as they rode, what it meant to Weston. She saw him revel in how the wind blew through his hair, how the sunshine made his face look even more radiant, and just how much pleasure he got from having to control the horse. For the first time, she truly believed she was seeingWeston.He had shown her this side of his that he had kept hidden for so long, which was magnificent.
“So? What are your thoughts?” Weston asked a few hours later as they rode slowly back to Estfield.
“I do not think it gets better than this.” Juliet replied. “I cannot believe I missed riding this much.”
“You told me your mother taught you.” Weston asked.
Juliet held tight to her rope. “My mother loved horses a lot. I know this might come as a surprise, but my father never had stables in the first place. Not until he got married to her.”
“She must have been a very impressive woman.” Weston commented.
“That she was.” Juliet replied.
Silence descended between them after that. Comfortable silence. One that conveyed unspoken understanding. The day was just as wonderful as Juliet had thought it would be. She would not change a thing about it. For a second, she wantedto tell Weston about the ball his mother planned to throw. One look at the happiness on his face and she decided to save it for later. He was in his element here where he could look at the countryside and the vast acres of land that seemed to span on for ages ahead of him.
He was at peace, and it would be terrible of her to take that away from him. She knew how much the pressure of his mother bore down on him. If there was ever a time she could do him a favor, it was now. She would save it again, for later. Now, she would enjoy the sun, the wind, the fields, and everything her senses had to offer with him.
Now, she would drift off in this comfort.
Charles noticed the recent changes in his friend's demeanor. At first, he had chalked it up to the usual random euphoria one wakes up with in the morning. Soon, however, when a farmer in the market joked about his recent produce, and Weston laughed genuinely, he knew it was something completely different.
“You're happier now.” Charles had said when they left the produce corner, more as an accusation than a question.
“What?” Weston asked, turning to him. They were headed back to their horses, ready to ride even further into town. Juliet had asked him to go see his friends this morning when he asked to go with her to the garden once again.
“I do not want to be that kind of wife.” She had said, her voice distinct.
“What are you talking about? What kind of wife?” Weston had asked, confused as they both headed out of the manor.
“You know what kind. The kind that keeps her husband away from his friends. I do not know about you, but I have reached my limit on being a subject of gossip around town.”
“I told you, Charles will understand.”
“Yes. He might, but what about others? Lord Charles cannot possibly be your only friend.”
“He might as well be, at this point.”
“Look,” Juliet had grabbed his hands. “Go out today. I promise there'll be more work to do in the garden when you get back. I also enjoy the garden sessions too, but I don't want you to be miserable.”
“That's why I go with you, Juliet. Being in the garden stops me from being miserable.”
“You say that now, but it's taking time away from your meetings. Just indulge me today and go. I bet Lord Charles and your other friends have some new things to tell you about their recent adventures.”
Weston had sighed. She was right. Of course, she was. He had been taking some time away from Charles, and it was up to him to fix that. Hence the meeting with him later that day, and now, as they both made their way out of the farmer's market, Weston couldn't help but ponder the question Charles had asked him.
“Answer me.” Charles said again, slightly pushing his shoulder. “What is keeping you happy these days? I know it isn't me because we haven't seen each other in a while.”
Weston said nothing. Half of him hoped Charles would drop the subject, while the other half wanted him to figure it out.
“Wait.” Charles whispered, a wave of epiphany crossing his mind. “Is it Juliet?”
Weston felt a tiny smile creep up his face. His friend was right after all. Just the sound of his wife’s name, and he was already giddy.
“Oh. so you have finally decided to—” Charles continued.
