Page 80 of The Scottish Duke's Deal

She turned away and walked a few paces into the grass, gathering herself. The sunlight had turned honeyed, the wind tugging gently at the hem of her dress.

“You’re released,” she said at last.

“What?”

“You’re released from the rule. About spending time together.”

There was a pause behind her.

“I no longer want it,” she said.

When she turned back, his brow was furrowed. “Why?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary anymore.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s changed?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “It’s time for you to step aside from Penelope’s education.”

He froze.

“What?” Ramsay’s voice sharpened, eyes narrowing.

“It’s not proper,” Eleanor said, lifting her chin, trying—failing—to keep her tone even. “You’re a duke, Ramsay. You shouldn’t be giving riding lessons. There are instructors. Tutors. That’s what they’re for.”

He stepped forward, just once “Is that what this is about? Propriety?”

“It’s about doing what’s right,” she bit out.

“For whom?” he asked, incredulous now.

“For her,” she snapped. “And for you.”

Ramsay stared at her. His mouth opened as if to speak then closed again. The muscle in his jaw ticked.

“You’re not meant to be here playing the husband and father,” Eleanor continued, heat rising behind her words. “I was born here, Ramsay. Raised here. I know what it takes to make a proper lady?—”

“Ah,” he said bitterly, eyes flashing. “There it is.”

She blinked, thrown. “There what is?”

“You always circle back to it, don’t you?” His voice had gone flat. “That I’m not gentleman enough for you.”

“That’s not my concern.”

“No?” he asked, voice low.

“No.” Her throat felt tight. “My concern is that Penelope will get used to having you around, and then you’ll leave.”

He inhaled sharply, chest rising. “And what if I do?”

She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t find a word.

So she looked at him instead—this maddening, reckless, beautiful man who had come crashing into her life like a storm and would, no doubt, leave it just the same.

“This was never meant to be a family, Eleanor. That wasn’t the arrangement.” His voice was quieter now but laced with something dangerous.

“I know that,” Eleanor said, her voice quiet but firm. “I know.”