Page 35 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

She laughed and shook her head. “It is lucky then that I am here to teach you.”

Timothy introduced her next to Miss White, his governess. He was excited to do so, as if he were showing her off. Miss White was kindly, if not a little stern, with Timothy, but Arabella could see that the woman truly cared for him.

“Make sure you are kind to her, Timothy,” Arabella said once Miss White left them.

“I am kind!”

“Oh, really?” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned wickedly. “I sense that you rather enjoy testing her patience. And do not lie to me.”

“Maybe a little…”

“She is only doing her job,” Arabella sighed. “So why make life hard for her?”

“Because it is fun,” he exclaimed.

“But is it fun for her?” Arabella pointed out. “From now on, if you must make mischief, make it with me. I doubt that there is anything you can do that will upset me. Why, I almost dare you to try.”

That single promise excited Timothy more than anything.

It was a long day, but it was also rewarding.

Slowly, and so very surely, Arabella found that she was coming into her own. Oh, there was still so much work to do, but she no longer feared doing it. In fact, the idea of making more changes excited her.

She walked through the manor that afternoon, looking over each room, trying to determine whether any needed fixing. While Glastonbury Manor was not dreary and morose like some castles, it was still old, it was still a little dark and isolating, and she decided that some color, some life, was needed.

Is this what it means to be in charge? To make decisions? I rather like it.

She liked how the staff responded to her. She liked how Timothy was starting to trust her. She liked that when she walked those hallways that afternoon, the manor felt more like a home than she had thought possible. They were small steps in the right direction, but she knew that where they led was exactly where she wanted to go.

And better still, not once that day did she think about Caspian.

What she thought of often, however, was her father and the threat that he had made. Even as she came into her new role, her thoughts often returned to what he had said to her, and how he had said it. And while Arabella liked to believe that when that time came, she would have it in herself to deny him… Well, she had not come that far yet.

Even her husband, as much as she tried to avoid thinking about him, was not so far removed that she could forget him completely. He would probably return in the next day or two, but when he did, Arabella would be prepared. She had asserted herself in her new home and life, and she was confident that the next time she saw her husband, things would be different.

At least she hoped so…

Chapter Thirteen

Caspian watched Glastonbury Manor with a sense of unease and uncertainty that had steadily grown throughout the day. And dare he say… excitement?

It was late afternoon, and the sun was well into its journey toward the horizon, so the sky had turned from crisp blue to a wash of dark oranges and purples, with touches of black as night steadily approached. The manor sat perched on its hill as if watching the carriage in which Caspian rode, gently beckoning him to come closer; welcoming him home, as it was.

Caspian rarely thought about the feelings he experienced when he returned home from a trip. His home was simply a place where he lived, and given the terrible memories from his childhood that it held, there was no reason to look forward to going back, just as there was no reason to dread it. It was just a building, and that was all.

This time, it felt different, somehow. Was it his imagination, or did the manor look brighter? More welcoming? Had something changed?

Absurd, of course. Perhaps I am just tired and looking forward to being in my own bed… Yes, that would make perfect sense.

If anything, he ought to have felt great reservation at returning home. It had been three days since he left, for reasons he did not want to admit, but that were undeniable. The ‘work’ he had in London could have been done from home, but he chose to leave for the city because he knew it was the safer option.

Even now, days later, he could not believe what had happened between himself and his wife. He had not meant it. He had not wanted it. But coming home from the club, a few too many drinks in, something took over him. An animalistic desire burning hot and fierce, a sense of want and need, and that determination to prove that he was in control of himself.

Ironically, the exact opposite had been proven.

He could still feel Arabella’s lips. He could still feel the way her body had tensed and then relaxed. He could still feel that want in her, so that if he had not stopped, she would not have denied him.

Not that this was a good thing. Not even a little bit.