Page 40 of The Duke and His Jilted Bride

He laughed under his breath and nodded, readjusting his coat. The fact that she was there and wanted to talk made him feel lighter than he had in days. It shouldn’t have mattered to him. Their marriage was what they had agreed it would be and he had a thousand other things to think about regardless.

But she was, he thought now, the primary object of his thoughts and had been for some time. So she was likely right that they had to stop pretending otherwise.

The path curved and they followed it, and the sky – which turned a dark slate grey as Aurelia had predicted all morning – finally made good on its promise.

The rain came down hard.

Within thirty seconds the path was dark, and the branches above them shook with the force of the wind. Aurelia stiffened beside him and looked around for cover. There was nowhere close to hide, and they were quickly becoming drenched.

“There is a place down there,” he cried over the rain, pointing vaguely. She turned the wrong way, so he sighed and took her elbow, and they ran together through the storm to seek shelter wherever they could.

The building was a third of a mile east through a gap in the woods. Aurelia squinted through the rain while Evander led her toward it. The barn had white-washed stone walls and a timber roof. Evander said it had been empty since February, as he pulled the door open. At least that’s what she thought she heard through the pounding in her ears.

They went through and he yanked the door shut behind them. They stood for a moment listening to the rain beat the roof. It was leaking somewhere, the water tapping against the floor.

Aurelia pushed her hat back from her face and held it. Her hair was soaked, her coat dark across the shoulders. She looked around the room: a bare, cracked flagstone floor, empty shelving, some upturned crates. Evander waited by the door. His dark hair curled and dripped water into his eyes. His lips were wet with rain. A drop hung off the end of his nose until he wiped it away. It made her heart clench to see him like this, so undone.

He moved to inspect the barn, clapping at some leftover bags to scare vermin out of hiding. But it was just them, thankfully.

“At least it’s dry,” she said nervously, and he agreed.

She pulled off her gloves and moved to the crate to sit on it. He sat on the stone edge of the shelf opposite. The rain continued outside. Light slipped through the dusty windows and the crack in the door, but otherwise it was dark. She wished for a fire, her teeth chattering.

Evander was silent. Maybe he was still giving her time to think about what she wanted to say. She felt bad about the night before, that much had been true. She had been cold with him but not on purpose. And she didn’t know how to address the tension between them without making it bigger than it was.

Just when she had finally decided how to begin, he reached into his coat pocket and extracted a book. He looked at it, pleased it wasn’t ruined, then offered it to her by leaning over the space between them.

It was a small volume of poetry from an author she didn’t recognise. She laughed in surprise as she turned the clothbound cover over.

“Of all the things I would have thought you carried in your pockets during a walk…” She took in a shaky breath, keeping the book off her wet skirts. “Why do you have this?”

“For reading, usually.”

“In the woods, all alone?”

He shrugged. “It was a long walk. I thought I might get bored.”

“That seems plausible enough,” she said. “Books are apparently a salve to every social situation – even being caught in a barn during a downpour.”

“This is a grain store, not a barn.”

“Yes, well, you would know the difference.”

“Farmer duke?”

“Yes.” She looked around. “What’s the difference?”

“Barns have haylofts.”

“Ah. Then thank you for clarifying.” She took the book and looked at the cover. “You didn’t have to go walking in the rain alone just to get away from me.”

His brow knit momentarily. “You know I like walking. I was not trying to flee from you. I don’t often host house parties for good reason. I like my time alone.”

She nodded and opened the book. The grain store was dim. The small window was grey with a sheet of dust and then the rain. She tilted the page toward the light from the door's gap and tried to read as Evander leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“The truth is… that I left because I was embarrassed.”

He cracked open an eye.