Page 67 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

“It did not have to come to this, Arabella,” he said to her. “I warned you. I gave you ample opportunity to do what was right.”

“F—father,” she stammered pathetically. “Whatever it is you think to do, I should warn you that my husband⁠—”

“Will be too late,” he cut her off. “Perhaps he does care for you. Perhaps he means to protect you and keep you safe. In fact…” He flashed his eyes and chuckled wickedly. “I pray that he does. It is a little hard to use someone as bait when the person you are trying to blackmail cares not for that bait.”

“No…” She leaned back, looking about as if for an escape. “You cannot do this. I am a duchess… I… Caspian…”

“You really have changed, Arabella,” her father said, almost sounding impressed. “A few months ago, you would not have dared to betray me. I am almost proud of you. Truly, were things slightly different, I might just be. Alas, that is not the way of things.” He stepped back, and the two large men beside him stepped forward.

“What are you…” She pushed herself back in the carriage. “No! Please!”

The large men clambered into the carriage. It rocked back and forth with their weight. In a final bid to save herself, Arabella tried to duck beneath the two large men so that she might flee. But they were big, they blocked her way, and as she struggled, one of them pushed her roughly.

Her body smacked into the side of the carriage. Her head smashed into the wood. Pain lanced through her head; she cried out, and then she fell forward onto her knees.

The door was right there, light shining through it, and with her last bit of strength, she tried to call to freedom. However, her father blocked the way, and as he watched her try to escape, he merely shook his head.

“You really ought to have obeyed me, Arabella. Sadly, some people never learn.”

Those were the last words that she heard. A large hand grabbed her by the back of the head, and she was launched once more against the carriage wall. The world shook, she crashed hard onto the floor, and then darkness took her completely.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Caspian was in high spirits when he returned home from a day of riding with Timothy. It was only supposed to take up the morning, but plans often change, and this time it was for a good reason.

He had worried about how he and Timothy might get along should they be forced to spend too much time together. Although Timothy had lived with Caspian for over a year, they had rarely spent any time together beyond meals and short conversations. That was Caspian’s fault, the deep-seated worry that he would turn out like his father and thus ruin Timothy’s life if he tried to grow close to the boy.

Today had proven that Caspian had nothing to worry about.

They rode together from the estate, crossing empty fields and passing open farmlands. The journey started slowly, and Timothy got used to riding his horse, but he soon grew into it, and before long, he was moving at a pace that surprised Caspian.

“You are a natural,” he had told Timothy as he rode beside him. “Are you certain you have not done this before?”

“I have not!” Timothy had cried. “Honest!”

Caspian had narrowed his eyes as if suspicious. “I will believe you, for now. But if I were to find out that you had been sneaking out at night and stealing horses, I would not be surprised either.”

Timothy’s grin was as mischievous as ever. “Well… Not yet, I have not.”

It was easier than Caspian thought possible. For so long, he believed he was doing the boy a favor by avoiding him, only to learn that Timothy wanted to spend more time with him. He yearned for that companionship that only a father could provide, a gentle hand that was also firm, but non-threatening.

As they rode, as they enjoyed the day, Caspian marveled at how far he had come in such a short time. Just as he was sure to thank Arabella, because none of this would have been possible without her.

It was late in the afternoon when they stabled their horses. Timothy bounced up and down on the edge of his feet, watching Caspian hand the reins to the stable hand while instructing him on what to do.

“We rode them hard today, Timothy,” he explained to the boy. “Meaning that they need rest and recovery, to be treated well. The better you treat your horse, the better they will serve you. This is not to be neglected. Understand?”

“I do.” Timothy nodded, his serious expression telling Caspian he was committing it to memory.

“Good boy,” Caspian said. “Now, head inside and let Arabella know we are back. Then you need to get ready for supper. Go on,” he waved Timothy away. “I am sure she misses you.”

Timothy hesitated for just a moment. His brow furrowed as if in deep thought. And then, without saying anything, he stepped into Caspian and wrapped his little arms around Caspian’s waist.

Caspian started at the gesture. He stood frozen, completely baffled as to what was going on and what he should do about it. Try as he might, he could not recall a single time that he had hugged his own father, so that Timothy was doing this now… What on earth do I do in response?

In the end, he stroked the boy’s head, which seemed to be the right answer. Timothy stepped back, looked away shyly, even as he smiled, then hurried from the stables.

And there Caspian stood, staring after Timothy, still struggling to grasp what had just happened, while knowing of its significance. How had he been made to believe for so long that such companionship was a bad thing? How could he have been so wrong?