Page 36 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

To further add to the irony, Caspian could not help but consider the reality of his situation. He had fled his own home to avoid being around his wife, one he could not stop thinking about, for all the wrong reasons. She had married him for freedom, but her marriage now felt like a trap from which Caspian could not escape.

She haunts me… She follows me everywhere. And try as I might, I cannot stop thinking about her.

So it was that Caspian’s arrival home came with mixed feelings. Unease. Uncertainty. A determination to control himself and to prove that he was the master of his own will. Also, and perhaps this was why the manor looked so welcoming, there was a sense of excitement because there was still that part of him that looked forward to seeing his wife.

What had Caspian gotten himself into? More to that point, what was he going to do about it? If only he knew.

“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” the footman asked as Caspian’s food was served to him.

Caspian very nearly told him yes, that all was well. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated.

He had arrived home just an hour ago. That hour was spent changing out of his traveling clothes, washing himself, and preparing for supper. More than once, he wondered what his wife was doing, just as he wondered if she was going to come and see him. He had been gone for three days, so such a thing was to be expected.

However, she did not, and he decided that was a good thing.

When Caspian made his way to the dining room for supper, he noticed without having to look that there was something different about the manor. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Am I imagining things, or do the staff seem happier than usual?

Mrs. Robertson was usually bright and bubbly, but she seemed even brighter and bubblier. His personal valet had beamed when Caspian asked for a bath to be drawn. And even the footman who served him his supper appeared to be in a transcendent mood.

Caspian was not a grump, nor was he cruel, but he had become accustomed to a way of doing things, and the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that things certainly felt different from when he had left. Perhaps it was a coincidence? But he felt that the reason was more obvious than that.

“Yes, actually.” Caspian turned in his chair to look at the footman. “Have you seen my wife this evening?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the footman said.

“Where is she?”

“I believe that she is taking her supper elsewhere. She did not specify to me where exactly, but she did mention that you might wish for some privacy after your trip.”

Caspian frowned as if annoyed.

He was used to eating alone. He wanted to eat alone. What was more, he did not want his wife’s company, nor did he want to suggest to anyone that he did. To ask that she join him would seem strange; it would send messages he had no desire to send, and he ought to have been thrilled that she was doing as he wanted.

The urge to demand that she join him rose within Caspian. He pictured her as he had been doing these last three days. How he had felt standing in her doorway. How desperate he had been to take her as he had sensed that she wanted.

No, control yourself! That is the exact opposite of what you want.

“What of Timothy?” Caspian pivoted.

“Master Timothy has already eaten, Your Grace.”

“Send for him,” Caspian said. “I have not seen him in days, and it will be nice to catch up.”

“At once, Your Grace.” The footman bowed and hurried from the room.

Caspian nodded firmly to himself, deciding that he had made the right decision. His relationship with Timothy was strained at the best of times, and he needed to fix it. No, not needed to… He wanted to fix it.

Caspian was not his father, nor would he ever be. To prove it, he needed to do what his father had never done with him, which was to build a relationship. Seemingly simple, but for Caspian, it was incredibly hard.

He waited patiently for Timothy, only for Mrs. Robertson to come hurrying into the dining room instead.

“Mrs. Robertson?” Caspian frowned. “Where is Timothy?”

“There is no need to be alarmed, Your Grace,” she began without her usual cheer. “But it seems that Master Timothy has…” She clicked her tongue. “We are unable to find him at present.”

Caspian groaned. “Of course you cannot.”