Dominic tugged at the folds of his cravat with growing irritation, muttering curses under his breath. The idea of enduring a formal dinner with Dorothea rankled more than he cared to admit. Before this farce of a marriage, mealtimes had been comfortably informal. Most evenings, he would request a tray be brought to his study, allowing him to eat while poring over estate ledgers or correspondence. It was solitude. It was peace. It was a far cry from the stilted pleasantries he would now be forced to exchange with a young woman he barely knew.
Behind him, his ever-efficient valet, Hale, bent to retrieve the discarded garments strewn across the floor. “Will there be anything else, my lord?”
Dominic stepped back from the mirror, adjusting the line of his coat. “Not at this time. I won’t be long at dinner.”
Hale gave a slight nod. “Very good, my lord.”
Dominic’s gaze drifted to the adjoining door that connected his chamber to Dorothea’s. The thought made his jaw tighten. He gestured towards it. “See that this door remains locked at all times. I don’t want Lady Warwicke entering my chambers—for any reason.”
A bemused look came to Hale’s expression. “If that is your wish.”
“It is,” Dominic said firmly, already moving towards the hallway. The request might have seemed harsh—odd, even—but he had no desire to complicate matters further. The annulment he sought depended on clear boundaries, and he meant to keep them.
As he stepped into the corridor, movement caught his eye. Dorothea emerged from her bedchamber, pausing to close the door behind her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, giving him a rare, unguarded moment to observe her.
She wore a gown of deep blue, the color accentuating her fair skin and the delicate line of her shoulders. Her red hair,arranged in an elegant coif, was crowned with artful curls that framed her face. She was, undeniably, a striking young woman. But beauty alone meant nothing. They were strangers bound by circumstance, not affection, and he had no intention of pretending otherwise.
“Dorothea,” he said softly, careful not to startle her.
Despite his efforts, she jumped slightly and turned with wide eyes. “Dominic,” she breathed, recovering quickly.
He closed the distance between them by a step. “Seeing as we are both heading to the dining room, may I escort you?”
Relief softened her features. “That would be lovely. Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely sure which way to go.”
“You need only ask,” he replied, offering his arm.
She took it, though her touch was tentative. “Thank you. It will be nice to dine in the dining room for a change.”
“You didn’t dine with your brother?”
Dorothea shook her head, her voice quiet. “A tray was always brought to my room. He preferred to eat with his wife… without me.”
The pain beneath her calm words struck him unexpectedly. Dominic had no particular fondness for his new wife, but hearing the way she’d been treated by her family stirred a pang of something akin to sympathy.
“I’m sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t sure the words helped.
She offered a faint smile. “He wasn’t entirely heartless. He did allow me to keep my horse.”
“At least there was some comfort in that.”
“I do love my horse,” she said with a touch more warmth. “May I bring him to your stables?”
Dominic nodded. “Of course. I assume you ride, then?”
“I do,” she replied quickly.
“Then continue to do so. I would ask only that you take two grooms with you when you go out.”
She blinked at him, surprised. “Are you in earnest?”
“I am.”
Her face lit up. “Thank you!”
Curiosity pricked at him. “Did your brother not allow you to ride?”
“No. He preferred I remain indoors. I think… I think he was embarrassed by me.”
