Page 28 of The Wise Daughter
“Most assuredly.”
“Against my counsel?”
“You may consider the matter settled.”
His voice cold and distant, Carver straightened his back and bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Chapter 11
For the next few days, Nora rose early, made excuses to the duke, and ate in her room. She explored the castle alone, retreated to her room in the evenings, and asked Janie to bring her dinner on a tray. Her father came to enquire after her and confirm she wasn’t growing ill, but as soon as Nora pressed him to tell her once again who had recommended that they come to the Duke of Ravenglass, he complained of a headache and left her alone.
Part of her wanted to join the duke and learn more about him, but after their time together exploring the castle, Nora felt more like an intruder than ever. The utter shock and sadness on his face when they had entered his mother’s music room was only something a friend or loved one should witness, not a stranger.
But I am his betrothed.
That was the confusing bit. She was his betrothed but still a stranger. How could she play both parts? Either she could pretend to hold a special bond with him, which she had already proved herself incapable of, or she could acknowledge the distance between them, which also left her unsettled.
When she saw so much emotion warring across his face, she felt as if she were standing on the riverbank all over again. She was all he had. Only, this time, she was engaged to him. It was this thought that madeher reach out to him in the music room and wrap her arm in his when he needed comfort. Her eagerness to be of use must have made her sense something different in that touch because she quickly saw that it meant nothing to him. If anything, it had confused him.
It was yet another puzzle to solve.
How had his mother come to be missing, Nora wondered. Had she left of her own volition, or had something driven her away? And how much did the duke know? Nora didn’t think the former duchess could be connected to the thieves, but her instincts told her it was no coincidence that mystery upon mystery was building around her.
This morning, she tip-toed out of her room, watchful for any sign of the duke or his disapproving steward. The only face she saw was the prideful glare of a man from another century in a portrait looking down his nose at her.
“Are you always this friendly?” The man’s outdated wig and particularly ruffled collar was a fanciful contrast to his stern face that made her feel instantly reprimanded. “Yes, I know avoiding the duke will only make it more awkward next time I see him. I don’t need your hints to know that.”
She scowled at the portrait and looked over her shoulder, lest the duke surprise her again. She could only imagine what he might say if he caught her being rude to his ancestors a second time. Perhaps it was becoming an unfortunate habit.
Standing in the lone corridor, surrounded by tapestries, portraits, and heirlooms that meant nothing to her, her heart wilted. The home she knew was in someone else’s hands miles upon miles away. The need to unburden herself tumbled through her like rocks rolling off a cliff.
This was why she had been avoiding the duke. She didn’t want to inadvertently unleash on him all the pent-up fears of uncertainty that had been building since arriving at the castle. Truthfully, they had been building since losing her home, her mother, and the easycompanionship she had shared with her father when her mother was still alive. She needed the comfort of a friend, someone who would guard all the secrets threatening to spill out.
She needed to find the stables.
Aaron leaned against the fence of the paddock and watched one of the stablehands slowly walk a pregnant mare out to the fields beyond to graze. Trees in the distance were beginning to turn yellow and red. He could feel the coolness of the air, reminding him to enjoy the fine days while good weather lasted, but what was the use of fine days when Nora was hiding from him?
She should have been there with him, becoming better acquainted with him. He couldn’t understand why she had retreated to her own solitude. Hadn’t she enjoyed herself with him the other day? He would never convince her to go through with the marriage if she did not spend time with him.
He paced the length of the paddock and back. After grumbling more than usual, his patience was finally rewarded. Like sun emerging after a rainstorm, her lithe figure came rushing past on the other side of the paddock, straight inside the stables.
I knew it.I knew she could not be kept away.
The sight of her settled inside him like a good meal. She had come, just as he had hoped. Firming his resolve to make progress with his bride, he rolled back his shoulders and inhaled the zest of the morning air mixed with fresh hay and dew. Though his pride was wounded from her avoidance, he shook it off and followed her inside.
Willing his heavy boots to tread lightly, he tried not to make the wooden floor groan. A particularly high-pitched creak greeted his first step anyway, but Nora didn’t seem to notice.
Several paces away, she stood with her eyes closed and her cheek resting against her horse’s, gently stroking its neck with her hand. Streaming sunlight lit her pale curls and added a rosy glow to her cheeks. If he had possessed any artistic talent at all, he would have dropped to the floor with paints and a canvas to immortalize the image before him. Without such talents, the best he could do was lay it to memory.
He stepped again, sensing he was intruding on a moment between friends, but his desire to be a part of it outweighed his dislike for any awkwardness he might cause. Passing horses and empty stalls, he was almost to her, close enough to see her lips part slightly as she released a breath, making him think of pink new strawberries, temptingly sweet but needing time before they should be tasted.
Only an arm’s reach away now, her eyes popped open, and she started. “Oh, Your Grace! Good morning.” Her expression grew guarded as she stepped back and fussed with her hair, then brushed hay off her skirt.
He held up a hand. “Don’t be uneasy. The hay looks lovely on you.”
“What?”
Realizing the strange compliment he’d given, he bit his tongue and cursed his unplanned words. “I mean, I’m glad to see you. I thought I might find you here eventually.” He cleared his throat, reddening as if she could see his thoughts connecting her to strawberries.
