“Now I think that sometimes stepping back is the best way to show that you care.”
Anne considered that, then nodded once. “That is better.”
“It is unfamiliar,” Dorian added. “But that does not mean it is bad.”
A brief silence settled between them again, and once more Anne was the one to break it.
“Do you remember what you said to me the night you came to Rosemere in the storm? You told me you would rather spend your life terrified beside me than safe without me.”
He looked at her more fully, as though measuring how far they had come from that moment. “I remember.”
“I believed you then,” she said. “Even when I was angry with you. Now I think you were wrong about the first part.”
Dorian’s brow furrowed slightly. “Which part?”
“That it was terror,” she clarified. “I think it was love. You simply did not know how to recognize it without fear attached.”
He did not speak for a moment, only nodding in agreement.
“And you?” he asked, his voice quieter.
Anne sighed. “I was afraid of losing everything I had just learned to want.”
The admission sat between them without strain.
Tempest slowed down again, drifting back toward them as the land began to slope gently downward.
“It is strange,” Anne added after a moment, “knowing that something might end and still not wanting to step away from it. Even so, I think that is part of what makes it so beautiful.”
Eventually, Tempest came back to their side, his pace slowing. Anne smiled at that, steering her horse slightly closer to Dorian’s.
As they began the slow turn back toward Ashford Hall, the estate now visible again in the far distance, she looked ahead before speaking once more.
“It feels like home now,” she murmured.
Dorian followed her gaze. “Yes, it does. It is a strange way to feel about a house I have always lived in, but it is becoming more of a comfort each day.”
The last stretch of the ride was quieter than the rest, as though the world itself had begun to soften in preparation for their return.
Lights appeared in the windows one by one, and although Anne had enjoyed their ride, she was also looking forward to being home again. They did not have any plans for the evening, but that was what was so appealing about it. There were no expectations. They could simply remain in the house and do anything they pleased.
Tempest moved just ahead of them with the easy certainty of a horse that had been allowed to be free and had chosen, without pressure, to come back. Dorian watched him for a moment before letting his gaze shift to Anne beside him.
She noticed, as she always did, but she said nothing. She had realized long ago that he did not mean to stare at her, that it was a way of him showing affection.
They reached the gates, eventually. They swung open at a gesture from a groom who bowed slightly as they passed through, no urgency in his movement. It had become common for their staff not to be too tightly wound.
Dorian dismounted first, his boots landing firmly on the gravel path, then stepped forward to take Tempest’s reins as Anne followed. She did not wait for assistance anymore, as he had finally understood that she did not need it.
“You are quieter than usual,” she noted, coming to stand beside him.
“I am always quiet,” he pointed out.
“That is not true,” she said lightly. “You used to fill silence with noise.”
“Now I prefer you to speak first. That way, I know how we are going to handle matters.”
She let out a soft laugh, and the sound seemed to linger in the air longer than it should have.
