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Chapter Twenty-Two

“ Y ou certainly seem to be in a foul mood again, Victoria,” Marianne remarked in an amused tone.

The following morning, she spread a blanket on the grass outside. She and her sisters were fortunate that Oakmere Hall had several large trees to accommodate what they had in mind.

A picnic.

Daphne chased butterflies, her bonnet swinging around her neck.

Wilhelmina brought along one of her new books, but it remained on her lap, still largely unread.

Meanwhile, Victoria sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression pinched and sulky—as if she’d bitten into a tamarind she disliked but refused to spit it out of sheer stubbornness.

Marianne passed around portions of cheese, tarts and a bit of cake Cook had prepared for them and Mrs. Alderwick had recommended.

Victoria pulled the crust of her tart and chewed on it before mumbling, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Right,” Marianne said drily, giving her a pointed look.

“I-It’s just that, last night, I didn’t mean to anger him. I was just trying to tease him a little, but I might have offended him,” Victoria admitted, staring into the distance.

“The Duke?” Marianne asked, though she knew full well that it was the answer. She just had not expected Victoria to still feel bad about it the next day.

“Yes. You heard the things I asked him last night? I believe I went too far.”

“Ah. Don’t worry about it. He’s just a grump. He’ll recover soon. Or not,” Marianne reassured her, thinking that Dominic certainly felt recovered when he kissed her last night.

She could still feel his hands on her, and every time she thought about it, her whole body erupted in flames.

Daphne giggled at her words. They didn’t even know the girl had stopped chasing butterflies.

Victoria gave an uncertain smirk. “Still,” she continued, brushing crumbs from her skirt. She’d somehow inhaled the whole tart during the pause. “He looked at me as if he’d send me far, far away. Maybe to a nunnery?”

Marianne chuckled at the visual.

“He looks at everyone like that, my dear,” she said, even though her thoughts drifted to how he looked at her last night.

Her husband had looked at her as if she were his last meal and he would die without it.

She shook her head at the thought. What was she thinking?

“And he’s always like this with you?” Victoria really wanted to know.

Marianne paused and hummed. “Well, he is a quiet man. He enjoys his silence and solitude.”

“Are you all right with that?” Victoria asked, arching an eyebrow. “He asked to marry you. He should expect more companionship. More activity, and even noise.”

Marianne wondered how her sister could still act so much younger than her age most of the time but also spout wisdom beyond her years like she just had.

Victoria simply did whatever she wanted.

“He is just reserved,” Marianne said simply, her hands busy with the jar of jam.

She didn’t mention that asking about his upbringing was what had provoked his foul temper last night.

“You look red, Marianne. Why are you blushing?” Wilhelmina demanded, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I am not.” Marianne might have been more emphatic than she had intended.

“You are. Your cheeks turned pink,” Daphne said cheerfully.

“Red,” Wilhelmina insisted. “I suspect the Duke isn’t so reserved with our dear sister.”

“What do you mean?” Victoria asked, narrowing her eyes at her eldest sister.

“Eat your tarts. Cook can make more later during the day,” Marianne urged, trying to change the topic.

The girls simply stared at her, eager for an explanation about her husband’s behavior.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats drew their attention, much to her relief.

Like a knight in shining armor rescuing her from scrutiny, a lone rider appeared on the horizon. Marianne’s gaze rose just as Dominic approached on horseback, a striking figure etched against the fading light.

He wore no coat, his shirt open at the collar and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The breeze teased the linen, tracing the lines of his lean, defined chest. There was a raw, effortless grace to him.

He didn’t just ride the horse; he belonged to the saddle, as if he were born to command both beast and land.

Marianne’s breath caught, her heart quickening at the sight. At that moment, the man who had seemed so distant and guarded revealed a side she hadn’t seen before—strong, alive, and unmistakably his own.

She could not control the way her breath caught at the sight. Her hand was around her throat, though she could have easily felt her pulse thrumming against it even without doing so.

Wilhelmina seemed to find it amusing. She leaned toward her and whispered, “So, under all that brooding, my brother-in-law can be handsome if he wants to be.”

“Mina, no.”

“Like Byron,” Wilhelmina quipped.

“That’s ridiculous,” Victoria complained. “You’re all ridiculous. Anyway, being like Byron is not a compliment we want to hear.”

“I agree,” Marianne murmured, her eyes still on her husband.

Dominic glanced their way, but he did not slow down. He continued at the same pace. He gave them a brief nod, then urged his horse to speed up until he disappeared beyond the hill.

“Still a curmudgeon,” Victoria declared.

Marianne reached for a glass of lemonade to cool herself.

“He saw you, though,” Victoria teased.

“I wonder if he was able to see how red she was from that distance,” Wilhelmina added.

“Oh hush, you two!”

She could not even feel mad at her sisters.

Soon, the girls were packed and ready to go home. The weekend passed by so quickly—much quicker than Marianne would have liked. Her heart ached as she saw the trunks strapped to the back of the carriage.

Their governess, Miss Clara Aldridge, seemed to have reenergized herself when she got a break from the girls. She was efficient in her supervision of both the loading and the girls’ preparations.

Marianne stood a few feet away, her hands folded in front of her. She was trying her utmost not to show her dread. She was already missing them, even though they were still on the estate.

“I don’t want to leave you, Marianne,” Daphne cried, hugging her sister’s side. “Can I stay here with you?”

“You’ll visit me again soon,” Marianne promised.

Her thoughts drifted to their father. Would Lord Grisham allow the weekly visit she requested? Her husband might be fine with it, but her father was another thing entirely.

“Next time, I want to explore the forests around Oakmere,” Daphne said, surprising her. Victoria was the twin who’d say something like that.

“Of course.” Marianne nodded emphatically. “I will speak to the Duke. I’m sure he’ll offer to show us around.”

Victoria approached next. She didn’t wear her usual scowl, but there was uncertainty on her face. She was not used to this, and Marianne suspected that her sister wanted just as much affection as Daphne, if not more.

“Th-Thank you, I suppose.”

“For what?” Marianne asked, her face breaking into a smile.

“For inviting us here. For making us feel at home. You let me speak freely. I don’t get to do that with Father, unless I fancy a slap. Even though I made the Duke angry a few times, you were never cross with me. Even though he was cantankerous… he was generous,” Victoria mumbled.

Marianne had to stifle a grin. Whenever Victoria said thank you or apologized, there was always something else at the end of it. This was something new from her.

Was her mischievous sister warming up to Dominic?

“Well then, I should thank you for coming here,” Marianne replied. “I missed having you near. I know I have not been married for long, and I was not away for long either, but I’m used to your noise and the trouble you get up to.”

“You blush too easily,” Victoria mock-chided. “You need to do something about that before we return for another visit.”

Marianne could only chuckle in response. Her sisters read her all too well. It was impossible to pretend in front of them.

Wilhelmina stepped forward. “Since we are in the business of commenting on our dear older sister’s ways, I just wanted to say that you look different this week. Here, in Oakmere Hall.”

“Oh, do I?” Marianne felt like her sisters always found a way to surprise her. “How?

“Quieter.”

“Well, I’ve always been quieter than you and Victoria,” Marianne pointed out with raised eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t say it like it’s a bad thing. I know you have a lot on your mind, always doing what’s best for the rest of us,” Wilhelmina said. “Elizabeth is thankful that she wasn’t the one the Duke picked. But I wonder… It seems like a grumpy husband is a lot better than most husbands these days.”

Marianne couldn’t bring herself to share everything with her sisters. Inside her, a storm of emotions churned—unspoken and tangled.

The tension that haunted their home clung to her like a shadow. On the days when her sisters were away, the silence became unbearable, filled with restless thoughts. Were they safe? Had their father found some excuse to strike them with his cane again?

At the same time, Marianne wrestled with conflicting feelings toward Dominic.

She resented what he represented—the cold, unyielding world of duty and expectation.

Yet, whenever he was near, her stomach tightened with a confusing flutter she couldn’t ignore.

He awakened something inside her, something she wasn’t sure she should entertain, especially since she couldn’t tell if their marriage was anything more than a business transaction.

Dominic was a man of rules and honor, the sort who would move heaven and earth to fulfill his responsibilities. Could there be room for anything else?

“There’s a lot to think about. I am a newlywed who had just been separated from my dear sisters,” she said softly.

“Again, your husband isn’t cruel, and that’s something these days. At least you didn’t marry someone like Father.”

They exchanged a look, one that encompassed years of pain and turmoil. Wilhelmina was usually one to jest to rid them of the burden their father had thrown upon them, but sometimes, the pain would surface.

Clara called the girls to the carriage. The sisters exchanged almost apologetic looks.

It was time to say goodbye. For now.

Marianne helped Daphne into the carriage.

Then, when it was Victoria’s turn, the girl whispered, “He’s watching.”

True enough, Dominic stood at the window in his study. Most of his figure was shrouded in shadows, but it was definitely him. Watching her.

The thought made Marianne’s heart pound faster. She watched him back, but he soon turned and disappeared behind the heavy drapes.

He was going to rely on his hearth for light again, no doubt, instead of embracing the sunshine.

The moment between them—if there ever was—had already passed.