Page 45 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
She held her breath whenever Damian and Evan slowed down. At one point, they had no choice but to slow down because of the rocky incline. It made it difficult for her to hide her presence, although the denser and wilder terrain helped. Regardless, she had to hold her breath and urge her mare to remain still. Thelatter was the more challenging part. She had to wait for the two men to disappear behind the crest of the hill before she could nudge her horse forward again.
Even though she wanted the dense trees to cover her, her determination wavered when the trees became too thick. The gnarled branches twisted like skeletal hands. They also felt alive—human. The path then narrowed, forcing her to dismount. She had to lead her mare on foot.
She made a mental note to give her horse treats when they returned to Greyvale.
Oh, maybe she should have just listened and stayed there.
The dense forest made her look over her shoulder far too often as if she was the one being chased and not the other way around. There was something so forbidding and tempting about the forest. The earthy scent of moss blended with the decaying leaves. Every rustle sounded like an explosion.
Gwendoline tried her best not to scream to Damian for help. She was so tempted—ever so tempted—and they were too far from Greyvale now for him to send her back alone.
Damian thought he was imagining things at first. He swore that he heard someone gasping behind them. Not once. But twice.Still, with the sound of the wind and the rustling of bushes, he couldn’t be sure.
Then, his sharp eyes detected the faintest movement in the undergrowth. At first, he dismissed it. They were taking a route that few people used unless they were safe in their carriages. It was a place where deer and other creatures roamed. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise to hear something at some point. However, what he did see made his blood run cold.
The horse that was a few meters behind them was familiar. Very much so.
“Stay here,” he instructed Evan.
“Why? What is it?”
Instead of responding, Damian dismounted and walked stealthily back to the horse. With each step, his nervousness turned into anger. The closer he got, the clearer it was who was following them.
Sure enough, he immediately saw his wife cowering behind the tall grass. She knew she was about to get caught, but she was still trying to hide.
“Gwendoline,” he ground out.
He didn’t know how he should feel. Angry? Surprised? Both?
“What in God’s name are you doing here?”
She got up and patted her clothes, which now had some grass stains. She straightened, attempting to summon her usual bravado, but she sounded defeated. “I… I wanted to help, Your Grace.”
Damian squeezed his eyes shut briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? You could have been hurt, or worse.”
“I’m here. Can’t you see that I am unharmed?” she chirped, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m young, but I’m not a child, Your Grace. Please don’t treat me like one.”
He stalked closer, meaning to intimidate her, although deep down he knew she wouldn’t give up. “You’re coming with me to the estate, but youwillstay by my side.”
“Fine.”
The fight had left her. Damian wondered if she had encountered something that terrified her enough to be so agreeable.
The estate loomed ahead, its silhouette making itself known. Its crumbling structure and shuttered windows made it appear like a relic. Damian’s unease grew the closer they got. He motionedfor Evan and Gwendoline to stay back while he surveyed their surroundings.
The structure became clearer, defined, as they approached. Even before they walked past the rusty gates, they could see the place was falling apart.
Evan shook his head, his glare declaring that he was joining him.
“Stay here, Duchess,” Damian instructed, looking his wife right in the eye. “And I mean it this time.”
She nodded, her earlier boldness tempered by a caution, which might have been caused by the eerie atmosphere.
Damian and Evan pushed open the heavy wooden door. The creaking of the hinges echoed through the empty halls. Inside, the air was thick and stale, and there was a smell of damp stone and mildew.
The trio moved cautiously, their boots crunching on debris scattered across the floor. Damian’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword, his senses highly alert.
Then, he heard a faint sound, like the scuff of a boot against stone. He signaled to Evan, and the two crept toward the noise. Turning a corner, they found a man sifting through a pile of papers in a dilapidated study. A musty smell permeated the room.
