Dorothea tilted her head. “Perhaps we can visit him together sometime.”
Together.
The word echoed in Dominic’s mind, far louder than it should have. It was an innocent suggestion—harmless, even. Together implied continuity, future, belonging. But there was no future for them. Not like that. Once the annulment was granted, they would go their separate ways.
And that was for the best. For both of them.
Dominic cleared his throat. “I have work I must attend to,” he said, his tone curt.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, but as the words left her mouth, she turned her head and sneezed into her handkerchief.
Instantly, his guarded expression shifted to one of concern. “Are you unwell? Shall I send for the doctor?”
She waved a hand lightly in the air. “It’s only a cold,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Doctor Langley gave me some laudanum to help me sleep, but truly, I feel well enough.”
Still, Dominic frowned. “Perhaps you should go and rest. It’s best not to let it worsen.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said, though her tone suggested she hadn’t wanted to admit it.
They exited the stables side by side, the crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the scent of fresh hay still lingering in the air.
“How is Tristan’s mother faring?” Dominic asked, breaking the silence.
That was the right question. Dorothea’s entire expression brightened, her posture straightening as warmth touched her features. “Very well, actually. When we visited earlier, she was awake and lucid. Doctor Langley seemed genuinely optimistic about her recovery.”
“Did he say what her illness was?” Dominic asked, though he had a suspicion.
Dorothea’s smile dimmed, her gaze turning somber. “She stopped eating so that Tristan wouldn’t have to go without.”
Dominic winced, guilt and admiration warring within him. “That is tragic. But also noble, in its own way.”
“You were wise to take her to the hospital when you did,” Dorothea said.
He waved the praise away with a flick of his hand. “It was simply the right thing to do.”
Dorothea’s gaze lingered on him. “Tabitha wanted me to thank you for caring for Tristan so well.”
Dominic clasped his hands behind his back. “No thanks is necessary. I only did what my conscience dictated.”
“I think it was admirable,” Dorothea said with conviction.
He stiffened at that. Praise made him uncomfortable. “You would have done the same,” he said sharply. “There’s nothing exceptional about it.”
He saw her start to respond, her lips parting slightly, but he cut her off before she could speak. “I’d prefer we speak of something else.”
A moment of silence passed before she replied, “As you wish.”
He decided to ask a safe question. “How are you settling in?”
That brought back her smile, bright and genuine. “Very well. Everyone has been so kind to me. Your staff is warm and helpful, and my bedchamber is the most luxurious room I’ve ever stayed in. The sheets feel like silk, and I can see the gardens from the window.”
“I am happy to hear that.”
Dorothea clasped her hands in front of her. Her gaze dipped for a moment, and she drew in a quiet breath before biting her lower lip. Color rose to her cheeks as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I was hoping… you might come visit me at night,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. Her blush deepened, giving away the vulnerability she usually kept hidden behind her graceful composure.
Dominic felt his heart twist.
