Page 68 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

Needless to say, Caspian strolled into the manor a few minutes later with a smile on his face that was uncommon, but that he hoped would become a regular thing. Such was how things had changed.

Timothy stood in the foyer when he arrived, looking confused.

“Timothy, what are you doing? Where is Arabella?”

The boy shrugged. “She is not here. I looked for her, but they said she has not returned.”

“She has not…” Caspian blinked. “Are you certain?”

“Mrs. Roberston says so,” Timothy said. “Nor has she heard from her.”

That was strange, but not unheard of. A flare of panic roared to life inside of Caspian, but he forced it down as he reminded himself of who it was that he was dealing with. Arabella was not the helpless young lady she had once been. She was now a duchess, and few were more capable than she. At least he liked to believe so.

“She has likely lost track of the time,” he told Timothy. “Go and find Mrs. Robertson and have her assist you in cleaning up for supper.”

Once, Timothy might have argued. At the very least, he would have said that he was doing a thing and then done the opposite. But Caspian could tell this would not be the case this time. It was as if Timothy wanted to do as he was told; he wanted to prove to Caspian that he could.

So, the boy hurried up the stairs, and Caspian decided to get a little work done before he, too, would ready himself for supper.

He spent the next thirty minutes working. As he did, he listened for the arrival of Arabella, certain that she would be home at any moment. Penelope knew better than to keep her so that she would miss supper, and he had no doubt he would hear her entering the manor soon, and that would be that.

After thirty minutes of waiting, Arabella still had not arrived.

Again, Caspian tried not to panic, but it was becoming harder to do so. Despite his best efforts, images of Arabella in trouble intruded on his subconscious. What if her carriage were broken down? What if bandits had robbed her? What if… What if… What if she is in terrible danger while I sit here and do nothing?

He knew how determined Arabella was to prove her independence, and he wanted to give her that. But Caspian had also stopped pretending that he felt little for his wife, and while she wanted that independence, he wanted just as much to protect her.

That was, after all, the opposite of what his father would have done.

With that final thought, Caspian came to a decision. He would not go to Arabella’s rescue, as she did not need it. Rather, he would check on her. Somehow, that made it better.

“Mrs. Robertson!” Caspian called as he strode through the manor. “Mrs. Robertson!”

She appeared as if from nowhere. “Your Grace! Is there something you need?”

“I am taking a short trip to my cousin’s estate,” he explained without slowing down. “I ought to be gone for thirty minutes or so. Keep an eye on Timothy, please.”

“The Dowager?” Mrs. Roberston said. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” he was sure to say. “Just being cautious.”

He rode a single horse through the dim light of dusk at a pace that was not exactly safe, but he felt it was warranted. And as he rode, he tried his best to ignore that sense of dread that steadily built inside of him. He would arrive at his cousin’s, find Arabella there, and laugh at this little moment as overly cautious.

Also, he hoped that Arabella might find it sweet that he worried.

It was when Caspian arrived at his cousin’s home that he realized how wrong he had been, as he realized that worrying was exactly what he should have been doing from the beginning.

He found his cousin just sitting down for supper, alone, surprised to see him striding into her dining room.

“Caspian?” his cousin said, obviously confused. “What on earth are you doing here? If I had known you were coming, I might have had the table set for you. Or I would have told you I was busy, depending on my mood.”

“Arabella,” Caspian started as he strode down the table. “She is not here?”

“Arabella? No, of course not. Why would you say that?”

A pit opened wide in his stomach. “How long ago did she leave?”

The confused expression on his cousin’s face made that pit in Caspian’s stomach stretch so wide he thought it might swallow him whole. “Leave from where?”