Page 59 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
“Let us get you dressed and on your way, milord duke,” he said. “Not all is lost unless you don’t try.”
Michael nodded.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
He remained melancholic as the valet began to dress him. Even as Lark styled his hair, he tried, and failed, to imagine a scenario in which Lydia wouldn’t send him away with force, or simply ignore him until he slinked away back to Strawbridge Manor. He tried to convince himself that she would agree to hear him out, even if it took a great deal of persuasion on his part. He did believe that Lydia was kind enough. But he also knew that she was hurt enough to do as she said and never speak to him again.
Yet by the time Lark was finished preparing him for the day, Michael had found a small sense of determination. He didn’t know if he would succeed with convincing Lydia to come back to him. But he knew that he had to try. When he was ready, he clapped Lark on the back.
“Thank you,” he said.
Lark didn’t need to ask why his master was thanking him. He gave him an encouraging smile and bowed.
“Go bring back our duchess,” he said.
Michael gave a soft smile. He realized that the staff must be missing her presence as much as he was.
“I certainly hope so,” he said.
With that, he dashed down the stairs and out the back door of the mansion. He raced to the stables, ordering the stable hand to saddle up his fastest steed as quickly as possible. He was focused solely on the mission ahead of him, ready to get to his wife and begin pleading his case with her. He had to allow himself to have a little hope. He couldn’t allow himself to keep thinking that all was lost. If he did, he might change his mind and never try to speak to Lydia.
When the horse was ready, Michael didn’t hesitate to leap into the saddle. He flew across the back fields of the Strawbridge estate, heading for a short path that would lead to the road. He rode with the wind, his heart pounding in his chest, allowing the wind on his face and in his hair calm his nerves and help him clear his mind as he rode.
His mighty steed, a powerful black stallion named Midnight, tore through the English countryside with purpose, as if sensing the urgency in its rider. Michael was grateful to the beast, as his thoughts were wholly consumed by Lydia --the woman who had captured his heart despite his initial reluctance, and the woman he would now do anything to have back in his life.
When he finally arrived at Tockenham Castle, Michael dismounted hurriedly off Midnight and strode hastily towards the entrance. The grand door opened to reveal an uptight looking butler. He regarded Michael with a hard expression, even as he bowed.
“How may I serve?” he asked.
Michael caught his breath.
“Is Lydia still here?” he asked.
The butler studied him for a moment, then looked over his shoulder.
“Wait here, please,” he said.
Michael nodded, his hopes raising.
“Very well,” he said.
The butler turned away and disappeared into the house. Michael hoped that was a good sign. If Lydia would just come to see him, then maybe he stood a chance of regaining her favor. He waited impatiently, hoping to see Lydia’s face, even if she was sad or angry. But his hopes were crushed once more when it wasn’t she who came to the door.
“Lord Strawbridge,” Lady Tockenham said curtly. “What brings you here?”
Michael cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
“My lady, please,” Michael panted, catching his breath. “I must speak with Lydia. Where is she?”
The countess looked him over, much as the butler had. She didn’t look thrilled to see him, and Michael supposed he couldn’t blame her. But he hoped she would be gentle on him if he could get her to understand why he was there.
“Please,” he said again. “I feel terrible about what’s happened. And I want nothing more than to make things right with my bride. Please, let me see her.”
The countess bit her lip, thinking it over for a moment.
“I am sure that she wouldn’t wish to see you,” she said. “However, that doesn’t matter, as she isn’t here right now.”
Michael’s heart dropped.
