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“Verity, I have to tell you—”

“Don’t call me that.” Her sharp words shattered the moment that had been building between them. And the once gentle hands that had rested on his chest, now pushed him away. He didn’t resist.

Blackmare was calm enough for him to lead them both out of the stall.

She had proven to him what he had always known about her. She was entitled and arrogant. So the fact that she didn’t recognize him didn’t bother him. Not one bit.

In fact…perhaps this was the best possible outcome. The more truth he could discover, the better.

Chapter 4

Verity

My Dear Lady Verity,

I’ll not mince words. Being a widow has perks and challenges. Sometimes the two are impossible to distinguish. Be wise.

Yours Truly,

Lady Wyndam

Founding Widow of the Widows’ League

“Rafe seems…nice,” Temperance said, picking up the jack to toss several meters ahead. The small white ball rolled to a stop on the manicured green space.

Verity snatched one of her two wooden bowls from the ground, ready to toss the weighted ball as close as she could to the jack. “Mhmm…”

“You don’t think so?” Pru chimed in. “Don’t you think he’s nice to look at?”

“Mhmmm…” Verity launched her bowl far into the air, only for it to roll decidedly past the jack. “If one likes that sort of thing.”

“The handsome sort of thing?” Temperance asked.

“Yes. Precisely.” But she wasn’t sure what she was agreeing to, only that upon thinking of nice looking men, the face to exclusively crowd her mind was the dratted stablehand from yesterday. Yes. She could see why he was breaking ankles. Why girls would fight over him. But he was too arrogant by half. And too large by…full. And too smug by full and a half.

Ack. The man had visited her in her dreams for goodness’ sake. No wonder she couldn’t focus on anything. And it hadn’t been a nice dream. At least, not a dream she had wanted. Or…not a dream that she thought she wanted. Though her body begged to differ.

There was something about him though that just seemed…different. Unlike any stablehand she had met before. Sure, he was large. Broad shouldered. Expansive chest. So large that he seemed destined for greatness above his station. But that was likely just his arrogance getting the best of her imagination.

Rafe was who she was after. Wealthy. Handsome. Kind. Not someone who would bowl over her. Not someone who would play mind games on her, telling her that what she could very well see with her own eyes wasn’t in fact there.

She shuddered.

Her first husband, Alec, seemed so charming. After marriage, the real monster emerged. Thank God she was strong enough to withstand most of his attacks, but even the thickest shells would have caved after eight long years. Fatally, he’d contracted a fever and died within a week. It all happened so fast. But she didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to be out of mourning. She needed to move on with her life. Find her strength again. Believe in herself again. And with more cause than ever because she was penniless. All because of his asinine secrets.

Yes, she had her sisters, and the Widows’ League, but she just couldn’t bear to invade their space. She needed her independence, and now was the time to prove she still had. This week was her last chance to do it, else she’d have to admit defeat and live with someone. Neither place would be a terrible environment, except that she’d already lost herself once. For her own spirit, her own wellbeing, she needed to do this on her own and for herself.

And Rafe was her man. The Duke of Elwin.

He was kind. Had many friends. And had a purpose in life. Was pursuing his academics. Not that she had any interest in philosophy or the sciences, but she wanted a man to have a hobby in order to occupy himself. Unlike Alec. In hindsight, she should have seen the signs. Alec had no male friends, no purposeful interests, and instead had only a sharp tongue. He had lavished all of his attention upon her. At the time she had considered it charming, much to her current dismay.

“Are you going to throw another one, Verity?” Pru asked.

“What?” She looked over to the jack to see everyone else had taken their turn. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, studying her. No one knew of the inner turmoil she had experienced with Alec. Only her sisters and a few select friends knew a fraction of what had happened because she hadn’t wanted to give anyone cause for concern. She was fine. She could handle it on her own. The hairs on the back of her neck raised in salute. Initially she thought they were commending her inner monologue, but when the prickling sensation started, she felt an unseen set of eyes on her. So as not to appear twitchy, she scanned the space slowly but saw nothing.

Then, remembering to answer her sister in a reasonable amount of time, she finally responded, “Oh, yes. Of course.” With that, she tossed her second bowl and watched it roll down the hill.

“Not your day for lawn bowls, I guess,” Temperance assessed.