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“Go get Abigail to dress the duchess, please, and pack her things. Right this minute. Then come and dress me.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” Joshua ran downstairs.

“And tell the new coachman to get the carriage ready!” he roared after him.

“Nathaniel! Where are you taking me?” Calliope’s stomach twisted in helpless rage.

Nathaniel took her by the elbow and dragged her back into her bedroom. He locked the door and stood with his arms crossed, his back pressed against the door.

“I’m taking you to Kelford.”

28

When Nathaniel could see the roofs of Kelford village, his chest squeezed with the pain of memories. This was where he’d spent most of his childhood; every tree and every bush was familiar. He’d come here with his mama to visit the tenants, bringing treats from the kitchen and inquiring about everyone’s health and well-being. Mama liked to organize village fairs and games, and he’d enjoyed playing with the village children.

The Tuesday afternoon sun was slowly sinking, coloring the sky in oranges, reds, and violets. Calliope’s face was cold and distant, her fury with him understandable and yet as painful as a knife in his heart.

He knew he was hurting her. He knew he was making her hate him. He knew he was going against everything that she was.

But he couldn’t help himself.

What had happened to Poppy and Violet was bad enough.

Last night was the last straw. It was as though every single thread of strength that he had to control himself, to try to overcome his terror at the thought of losing her, snapped and was gone. And he could no longer force himself to go against his instincts.

The reason was one word.

Pregnant.

He couldn’t have known that he would fall in love with his wife. He couldn’t have known he’d want this baby like he wanted nothing else in his whole life. That the thought of a small human being that was part her and part him would bring this feeling that was close to benediction. As though he had touched something divine with his big, unworthy fingers.

But he knew one thing.

A wife who would despise him her whole life was better than a dead one.

Sleuth agency…he scoffed inwardly as he watched the new footman open the carriage door.

Why was he surprised? It was so like Calliope. Admirable. Honorable. Courageous. Smart.

And absolutely mad.

He descended to the dirt road. Streets meandered through rows of quaint stone houses with thatched roofs, their chimneys releasing tendrils of smoke that melded with the evening mist. Crimson and pink geraniums spilled from window boxes and sills. The distant hum of village life—the laughter of children playing, the clinking of glasses from the local tavern, the soft conversations of neighbors—created a tranquil backdrop.

Nathaniel turned to his wife. Auburn curls spilled down, framing her face under her bonnet as her eyes blazed with fury. Her cheeks were red and her lips tight and thin.

He hated himself for doing this to her. But sixty miles away from London would be the safest place for her.

At one point, a gig had started following them from London, but he and his footmen had stopped and descended, telling Calliope to stay in the carriage. As they’d walked towards the gig, the driver had jumped down and run away, after which Nathaniel and the lads had broken the wheels of the carriage with axes.

No one had followed them since.

“Come on, Calliope,” he said as he stretched out his hand to her. “We’re here.”

She sneered. “In my prison, you mean?”

“No. It’s not a prison. I’ll put you in the home of the housekeeper of Kelford Manor. It’s a safe place no one will look for you.”

She laid her hand in his and descended, looking around. “What about the manor itself?”