She glared at him. “You think I want to ride like this? If it were up to me?—”
“Up to you?” he cut over her. “Florentia, if there is one thing I know of you, few exist who can tell you what to do and how to do it. If I did not know any better, I would guess that youenjoyriding side-saddle. Saves you having to challenge yourself.”
“How dare you!”
“I am simply making observations based on what my own two eyes are telling me.” He was grinning to himself proudly, as rarely did he get the upper hand, and no doubt he was rather pleased in this instance that he had.
“Fine, if that is the way it must be...” She pushed her horse ahead, and he effortlessly matched pace. “The next time we ride, I am going to ride properly. That will show you.”
“I will believe it when I see it.”
She glared at him. He looked at her plainly, and then she burst into laughter. The duke did not laugh with quite as much gusto as she did, but he chortled along, which in her estimation was the equivalent of bending over and holding one’s sides so they might not split apart.
How has this become so easy? So comfortable? When this marriage first began, the thought of spending even a second in the same room as my husband made me feel ill. And now...I do not want this day to end.
“How old were you when you first started to ride?” Hudson asked her. He was getting better at that too—asking personal questions about her as if he cared.He does care. That is the difference.
“Eight,” she said. “My mother was against the idea, but my father thought it a good skill to have.”
“Smart man.”
“Although my mother...” She snorted. “She changed her mind when he explained to her that it would likely improve my chances of marriage, when I reached that age. Just something else that me and my husband could do together.”
“Smart woman.”
“Although I doubt that they considered my marriage would be like this,” she laughed. “Nor did I, for that matter. It is funny in that way...” She eyed the duke as they rode together. “How unexpected these things can be. And how wonderful, if you give them the chance.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Merely an observation based on what my two eyes can see.”
He smiled, a more common expression now which he shared with her often. “I could not agree more.”
They rode together in silence as the manor came into sight. Aiming for the rear of the house, Hudson led the way, a steady trot which allowed them to continue speaking without breaking a sweat or having to shout.
And as they rode, Florentia could see her husband considering...something. His brow was creased. His expression was stern. He was not upset, she knew, just thoughtful, as he likely grappled with an idea that he had but wasn’t sure if he should voice.
“I take it that your parents do not know the particulars of this marriage?” he asked suddenly.
“Oh.” The pivot caught her by surprise. “They certainly do not. As far as they are aware, this is a marriage like any other.”
“And if they were to learn the truth...”
“I do not…” She blinked, considering. The truth was, she had not thought much about her parents or how they might react if they were to learn she and the duke were not trying for an heir. At least this past month, she had not. “I suppose they would be upset. My mother, especially. She expects certain things, you know?”
“And you?” he tested gently.
“What do you mean?”
He withdrew into himself for a moment, his heavy brow scrunched as he wrestled with an answer, or a thought that she had sensed to be brewing all day. Was this the duke she had first married, she might have worried, as that duke was a cold, calculating toad who cared little for others and only thought of how any decision made would affect himself.
Things had changed since then. She had felt them change. And it went beyond mere companionship, which had been her original goal. Rather, these last few days…dare she say, Florentia had sensed and even seen the duke treating her in a way that she might have deemed as romantic, as impossible as that sounded.
He cared for her, she could tell. He worried after her. What was more, he cared what she thought of him and seemed at pains to please her.Is this just his efforts at being nice, or is it something more?
“I cannot help but remember our first evening together,” he began carefully. “Our fight...”
“Ah...”She felt her stomach tighten.
