Page 17 of Yours Always (The Enduring Hearts #1)

Matthew lingered at the edge of the path, every nerve taut beneath his skin.

He needed air. Needed clarity. Needed to stop imagining what it might feel like to take Sarah’s hand in his and tell her the truth.

But before he could even gather the breath to try, the soft thunder of hooves broke the quiet.

A lone rider approached from the drive, framed by sunlight like a vision out of myth. His coat was dark and immaculately fitted, his posture straight, his boots gleaming, and of course, the horse was white. The Duke of Kenswick. A smile broke across Sarah’s face radiant, and a little too perfect.

Matthew’s stomach twisted. He couldn’t tell if the smile was real, or just practiced instinct.

The fact that he didn’t know sank low and heavy in his chest. He stepped back without thinking, putting distance between himself, the woman who deserved the world, and the man who just might be able to give it to her.

______________________

The Duke dismounted with quiet ease, leading his horse across the garden with the calm assurance of a man used to being welcome wherever he went.

Sarah brushed the grass from her skirts as he approached, her pulse quickening for reasons she didn’t fully understand.

“Your Grace,” she said, her voice too polite, even to her own ears.

He bowed over her hand, offering the kind of courtly smile that never seemed to falter.

“Forgive the intrusion, Miss Weston. Your mother was gracious enough to invite me to join you all this evening. I hope I haven’t caught you at a poor time.”

“Of course not,” Sarah said, managing another smile.

“You are always welcome here.” But as the words left her mouth, she could feel the absence behind her like a shadow.

Matthew was gone. He had been standing only a few feet away, steady as always, until the moment the Duke arrived.

Now, without a word or glance, he had turned and walked away.

Not like someone retreating in anger, but someone who had chosen to leave her behind.

The Duke, still holding the reins of his horse in one hand, offered her his arm with the other.

“Shall we?” he asked, nodding toward the house.

Sarah hesitated only a breath before slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.

They walked slowly through the gardens, the hush of evening settling around them.

The scent of roses still clung to the air, and the grass gave softly beneath her slippers.

His horse walked quietly beside them, steps measured, a reflection of the man who held the lead.

He was steady, good, and yet all she could think of was how much warmer her hand felt nestled into Matthew’s arm.

As they neared the terrace, the Duke glanced sideways at her, his tone gentle.

“You seem troubled, Miss Weston. I hope I haven’t come at an unfortunate time.

” Sarah shook her head, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.

“Not at all.” He smiled, but his gaze searched hers.

“You must know,” he said after a moment, “I would never wish to intrude upon...anything.” The hesitation in his voice was subtle, and the weight of his meaning settled instantly in her chest. “You are not intruding,” she said, a bit too quickly to be sincere.

He offered her a grateful smile, though a flicker of sadness passed through it.

“I know this may be bold,” he said after a pause, “but I believe I have made my intentions clear. I am beginning to care for you, Miss Weston. Deeply. And I had hoped...” His voice grew quieter.

“...that perhaps your heart might be starting to find a place for me.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She wanted to speak honestly, but honestly, she didn’t know what her heart wanted.

It wanted both safety and freedom. Certainty and comfort.

It wanted Matthew, and Matthew had walked away.

The realization settled into her chest, heavy and almost painful.

She swallowed it down, forcing the truth to sink deep where she could not feel it, so she could focus on the man standing before her.

“A man would have to be blind not to see how admired you are,” the Duke continued.

“And while I’ve never been one to compete for affections, I do hope that in time, I might earn your favor.

” Sarah’s throat tightened. She couldn’t speak on what she was still trying to untangle. She wanted to be worthy of his hope.

“You flatter me, Your Grace,” she said softly. “Though I believe you greatly exaggerate the amount of admiration I’ve received.” The Duke smiled faintly. “I doubt that very much.”

He led her to the foot of the terrace steps, then passed his horse off to a waiting stablehand with a quiet nod before turning back toward the house to join them for supper.

Sarah stepped through the doors, the Duke’s presence was a quiet weight just behind her, yet all she could feel was the fading echo of footsteps in the garden and the hollow space Matthew left behind.

As they turned the corner toward the dining room, she saw him, standing at the threshold, hat and coat in hand, paused as though caught between staying and going.

Their eyes met and held. One breath. Then two.

Then without a word, Matthew turned and walked away again.

The door closed behind him with a hush that sounded far too much like goodbye.

Sarah’s heart twisted. Something had cracked in a place she hadn’t known was fragile. She didn’t know what it was, only that she might never get it back.

______________________

The ride home was colder than it should have been, though the late sun still gilded the sky in soft gold.

Matthew didn’t see it. He rode with his jaw tight, reins taut in his gloved hands, each breath a battle between restraint and ache.

He didn’t know if he wanted to strike something or hold something. Or someone. But she wasn’t his to hold.

The image of her hand resting lightly on the Duke’s arm burned behind his eyes.

Not because of jealousy, though that thorn pricked too, but because with every step that she took beside The Duke, she was being led further away from him.

Matthew knew he had no right to stop it.

“This is her choice," he muttered aloud.

He truly believed she deserved to choose her own future, but still, the words felt bitter on his tongue.

Matthew dismounted in silence, tossing the reins to the stable boy with a nod.

His boots struck hollow against the stone as he crossed into the quiet house.

The study door clicked shut behind him. He shed his coat and dropped into the nearest chair, elbows braced on his knees, hands covering his face.

The scent of her clung to his memory, lavender and peppermint, and the soft breath of laughter that had always undone him. He had told himself he’d step aside if it came to this. If it meant her happiness. He would keep his promise, because he loved her enough to let her go. Even if it broke him.