“That is one word for it.”
He set down the papers and leaned back slightly in his chair, studying her. “You are early.”
“I was not aware there was a right time for going riding with one’s husband,” she quipped.
“You make an excellent point. I have ledgers to study, but the stables are certainly more important.”
Once, that might have been something he said sarcastically, but it no longer was. He was completely sincere in saying that their time together was more important to him than his work, and he had been for a while.
Anne laughed quietly, crossing the room to his desk to move the papers aside. “Then we are already late. Come.”
They left the house together, the early afternoon light soft over the grounds. The stables were already alive with movement, and when Dorian entered, a groom straightened immediately, then hesitated before speaking.
“Your Grace, Tempest has been prepared as requested.”
“Good.”
The groom lingered for a moment longer than necessary before adding, “He seems in high spirits today.”
“That usually means he is planning something inconvenient,” Dorian replied.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Anne had already moved toward Tempest’s stall, her hand resting lightly against the gate as she looked in. The horse shifted toward her immediately. She was pleased that the bond she shared with him had remained intact despite everything that had changed in the year since her arrival.
“I do not think that riding him is a good idea today,” she sighed. “If he is in such high spirits, it is not particularly conducive to a gentle ride like we planned.”
Dorian stepped closer, watching as she studied him. She did not wish to leave Tempest behind, but she wished to ride beside her husband that day rather than twenty paces ahead.
“We could bring him still,” Dorian suggested. “We could take other horses, and he could join us for some exercise. It might be good for him if he has so much energy today.”
“Are you saying that you trust him enough to be without a rider?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I do,” he replied. “Though I will not pretend that a rider would be able to stop him from racing on ahead.”
“Alright,” she agreed with a laugh.
They mounted a short time later and left the estate at a steady pace, Tempest moving ahead of them at once. The path beyond Ashford Hall opened into familiar countryside, fields stretching outward in soft green layers.
For a while, they rode in companionable silence. Anne broke it first, as she often did.
“There is still talk,” she said.
Dorian did not ask what kind, for he understood. The ton looked kindly upon them for not publicly holding a grudge against Lady Vivian and Holloway.
“There will be for some time.” He nodded.
“Does it bother you?”
“No,” he said after a moment. “But it used to.”
Anne glanced at him. “What changed?”
“Nothing changed,” he answered. “It simply stopped being important enough to shape what I do. Besides, we are in York, so I cannot claim to be interested in what those in London believe.”
That coaxed a small, quiet laugh from her.
They rode farther from the estate, the land gradually opening wider, and Tempest’s energy shifted as they reached a stretch of grassland, his pace quickening.
