Page 17

Chapter Seventeen

S everal days had passed since the ceremony, and Evelyn was beginning to understand a new, unexpected kind of misery: boredom.

At first, the sprawling estate, the crisp mountain air, and the ever-silent halls had felt like a balm. But now, the absence of Cordelia and Hazel, of whispers and laughter, of shared secrets and mischief, gnawed at her like an itch just out of reach.

Unable to take another hour of sitting still in the library pretending to read, she marched down the corridor, lifted her fist, and knocked firmly on the heavy oak door to Robert’s study.

It opened after a moment, revealing him in his shirtsleeves with a stack of papers spread out before him.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” she said, tilting her head in an effort to look innocent.

“Just the estate ledgers. Which are, depending on your temperament, either riveting or coma-inducing.” He leaned back in his chair, arching an eyebrow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She stepped inside with her arms crossed. “I’ve come to ask you how on earth you’ve survived all these years hidden away from society. Truly. What does one do out here to avoid going mad?”

Robert chuckled low in his throat, setting his pen down. “Going mad sounds like a very personal experience. Perhaps Your Grace simply lacks imagination.”

She gave him a playful glare. “Don’t mock me.”

“I can’t help it.” His smile lingered. “In any case, when I’m not working, I ride. I hunt. Swim. Hike through the woods or the mountains. There’s always something to do if you look for it.”

Her eyes lit up. “I like that idea. The exploring.”

“Good.” He rose from his chair, towering over her in that way he always did without effort, and moved to the window. “The weather will hold for another day or two. What say you to a ride into town tomorrow?”

She blinked, pleasantly surprised. “Truly?”

“We could even stay the night at an inn,” he added, glancing back at her, gauging her reaction. “Give you a chance to see the place properly. You are the Duchess now after all.”

A ridiculous amount of excitement bloomed in her chest. “I’d love that.”

Something about the softness of her voice made him pause. Then he nodded. “Well, then it’s settled. I’ll have the horses prepared for tomorrow.”

Evelyn lingered in the doorway, already picturing the small town in the valley below, the promise of bustle and color and voices that didn’t echo off stone walls. But more than that, she was stunned by how effortlessly Robert had offered her a piece of his world and made her feel welcome in it.

“Thank you,” she said before slipping out.

She allowed the rest of the day to pass in daydreaming and anticipation, and when the following morning arrived all dressed in gold and mist, Evelyn was ready.

She found herself standing at the entrance to the stables, her riding cloak drawn tightly around her.

The air was brisk, nipping at her cheeks and making her breath visible.

She turned as she heard footsteps approach. It was, of course, Robert, looking devastatingly at ease in his riding clothes, dark hair tousled from the wind and boots already dusted with straw.

“I thought you’d make me wait,” he said, a slight smile playing at his lips.

“I considered it,” she said playfully, “but I didn’t want to be responsible for the brooding silence you’d descend into if I delayed the great Duke’s itinerary.”

He chuckled, low and genuine. “You’re in fine form this morning.”

“Perhaps I simply enjoy the idea of escape.”

“Temporary escape,” he corrected. “You’ll still be expected back for supper tomorrow evening.”

She followed him into the stables where a row of well-groomed horses awaited. The scent of hay and leather filled the air, warm and earthy. Robert gestured toward the row.

“Choose whichever you’d like. They’re all well-trained.”

Evelyn stepped forward as her eyes traveled from one animal to the next one.

Most of them lifted their heads with interest, for they were strong, alert creatures accustomed to activity.

But near the end of the row, she paused before a mare whose head was lowered and whose eyes were partially hidden beneath her forelock.

“This one,” she said softly, reaching a hand out. The mare shifted but didn’t shy away. “She looks… shy.”

Robert came up beside her and to her surprise, didn’t dismiss the choice.

“That’s Storm,” he said, glancing at the horse affectionately. “Quiet at first glance, but she’s a storm underneath: fierce, relentless, and faster than most. Good choice.”

Evelyn turned to look at him, raising a brow. “Is that your way of saying I have excellent instincts?”

“It’s my way of saying you’ve got a taste for trouble.”

She smirked. “And here I thought you preferred docility.”

“I never said that.”

There was a look in his eyes, half teasing, half unreadable, that made her heart do something entirely irrational in her chest.

Moments later, they were mounting their horses, with Evelyn adjusting in the saddle while Robert swung onto his with practiced ease. He gave a short whistle, and the stable doors were opened by a young groom. Sunlight poured in and with it, the promise of something new.

They rode side by side down the winding path that led away from the estate.

The wind tugged at her hair, and the rhythm of hooves on damp earth became its own kind of music.

Evelyn hadn’t realized how tightly wound she’d been until she began to laugh, the sound escaping her freely as Storm surged forward.

“Careful,” Robert called over the wind. “You’re going to start enjoying yourself!”

“Too late!” she called back, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

She didn’t know what the town would bring or what truth lay ahead in Robert’s past, but now, with the morning sun caressing her face, Evelyn felt, if only for a fleeting moment, a sense of freedom.

The ride had started under a sky smeared with lazy clouds, harmless and slow-moving. But as they passed the wooded rise above the southern meadows, the wind shifted and the first patter of rain struck Robert’s shoulder.

He tilted his head up, squinting at the thickening sky. “We should take cover. That oak there,” he pointed off the road, “will do until it passes.”

He turned in the saddle to find Evelyn had already drawn her eyes to the same sky, the corners of her lips curling upward, only not in concern but rather with mischief.

“Oh, come now,” she said, spurring her horse forward. “You’re not going to melt, Your Grace.”

Before he could protest, she was gone, laughing over her shoulder as her horse galloped past him.

“Evelyn!” he exclaimed, but her name was lost in the wind.

He should have called her back. He should have reminded her that her boots were thin, that she’d catch a cold, that they were too far from shelter for foolishness. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

She rode with reckless joy, the kind born of rare freedom.

Her loose chignon had come undone in the wind and rain, strands of hair escaping like wild ivy.

Water soaked through the thin material of her cloak, clinging to her frame.

She was drenched, radiant, untamed and utterly beyond his reach in that moment.

A wood nymph, he thought, utterly enchanted, chasing some mythic joy he hadn’t believed in for years.

He urged his horse after her, rain slicking his shoulders, stinging his face. The road curved downward toward the town where the shape of the inn came into view like a promise on the horizon.

By the time they reached the inn’s modest stables, they were both soaked through, their horses lathered and snorting. Evelyn slid off her mare with an exhilarated laugh, her cheeks flushed, and raindrops clinging to her lashes.

“You’re mad,” he observed, dismounting beside her.

She looked up at him, eyes shining. “Yes, but admit it, you needed it.”

He wanted to kiss her then. It was a wish not born from desire but from something deeper, something unspoken, something fragile that stirred in his chest like a whisper of what he’d once called hope. Instead, he offered his hand, and she took it without hesitation.

They must have looked like a pair of strays, all soaked through, cloaks dripping, boots muddied, and faces flushed from wind and rain. The innkeeper, a round-bellied man with a face like a weathered apple and kind eyes, blinked at them as they stepped into the warm, firelit entryway.

“Bit of a storm to be caught in, eh?” he said cheerfully. “You two look half-drowned.”

Before Evelyn could open her mouth and announce their titles, Robert saw the instinct rising in her, like the duchess she was. He stepped forward, brushing a wet curl from her cheek and offering the innkeeper a polite, sheepish smile.

“Yes, we seem to have lost our way,” he said simply. “Didn’t mean to ride so far in this weather.”

The innkeeper nodded in understanding. “Happens more than you’d think.” He handed over a heavy brass key. “Simple room, top of the stairs. We’ve only got one left, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right,” Evelyn chimed in. “We’re married.”

She looked at him with a faint blush, and Robert couldn’t help but feel a pang deep down where his heart used to be.

“All right then,” the innkeeper grinned. “If you two are hungry, the missus makes a heavenly soup. It is said to bring back the dead.”

“Oh my,” Evelyn chuckled. “Then we must try it, indeed.”

“And if you two are in the mood for some music later on, a few of the lads here will be playin’ a tune or two in a tavern just down the road,” the innkeeper added. “While it is no Duke’s ball, I guarantee you it’s fun.”

This time, Robert was the one to agree. “Perhaps we shall try that, too. Thank you.”

As they climbed the narrow wooden staircase, he could hear the fire crackling below and smell something earthy and warm wafting from the kitchen: onions and herbs, the scent of roasted meat.

He looked at Evelyn’s hand where it clutched her skirts, her knuckles pale from cold.

She was shivering though she tried to hide it.

They entered the room. It was warm and cozy. Still, he had to admit that he didn’t foresee the rain. Now, they were both soaking wet and most certainly about to catch a dreadful cold. A part of him wondered if all this was a good idea.

But then, a knock on the door reminded him that sometimes, fate had everything covered.