“You do not know what you want even if it was sitting right in front of you. Yesterday's dinner proved that.”
“I would have you know that Juliet has remained way too patient with you.” Weston railed. “She has shown far more honour and respect than any of those vile creatures you wanted me to be with in the first place.”
“I do not care about her honour and respect. The best match for you would've been Helena if you had listened to me, and last night was a reminder of that.”
Hot blood pumped hard into Weston's brain. A realization came to him in that instant. He didn't have to sit down and take his mother's words. He rose from his chair and dropped his spoon.
“You are not walking out of here.” Beatrice called.
Weston turned just as he reached the entrance and stretched out his hands. “Watch me!”
He turned and bumped harshly into Alfred, the footman.
“Apologies, my lord.” Alfred pleaded, moving out of the way.
He wanted to apologize, too, but he was too worked up. Instead, he loudly huffed and stalked out of the manor.
Chapter Fifteen
The last person Weston expected to see when he walked out was Juliet. He was still angry and had loosened his cravat so he could breathe a little. He had at first intended to go straight to the stables and grab a horse. It did not matter that he had already gone for a ride the same morning. Another one didn't hurt. He could fetch Charles on the way and tell him all about how he stood up to his mother.
He probably just cost himself some rapport within the society and had injured his frail reputation among friends even more. First, he had been the subject of salacious gossip for weeks. Now, he was the scorned man who had uttered words of damnation on his mother.
He was practically a villain. The man people would warn their sons and daughters about. That fact made him even angrier. He was ready to stomp to the stables or fall on the floor right there.
Until he saw her.
She was unmistakable even from a far distance. She was near the walls of the manor, digging into the soil. He frowned in surprise. He was under the impression that she had been in her room and might have heard his heated words. A wave ofrelief swept down his body as the realization hit him that Juliet was oblivious to everything. That was good. The last thing he needed was for her to feel like she had come between him and his mother.
Another loud rumble came from the skies. Weston looked up. A cluster of dark clouds continued to gather over Estfield and its environs. Riding might make him escape his thoughts, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to walk over to the stables. Instead, he was walking out into the fields and towards the walls.
He was walking to her.
The cold wind blew through his hair as he proceeded, his eyes intently on her. She was in a dark blue gown, one of her usual gardening garments. The closer he got, the clearer she became to him. Her tongue was slightly out and was fastened to the top of her lip in sheer focus. Her wounded hand stabled her other one as she continued to dig into the ground. Her hair was packed with a giant rose ribbon. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he thought of her obsession with roses. She loved them, it was obvious.
She had an array of flowers placed gently on the ground beside her. He recognized them as the ones he had asked Mr. Brown to deliver. She didn't notice him as he walked towards her. She never looked up, not even once.
Not even when he stopped right in front of her, watching her dig harder into the ground.
“Juliet?” He called, surprised that the former anger that had been enclosed in his voice had completely disappeared.
Like a shocked deer, Juliet's shovel slipped off her hand. She looked up, her anxiously surprised green eyes meeting his.
“Weston?” She called. Her cheeks flamed scarlet at the thought of her husband seeing her in such a dirty state.
“You seem hard at work.” Weston commended, a smile playing on his face. One he didn't have to wear. Juliet rose from the ground, rubbing dirt off her face with the back of her good hand. He was in his full regalia, a blue cotton buttoned-up jacket with a white shirt underneath, white pants, and gray boots. Juliet couldn't unfreeze herself fast enough
“I didn't know you were coming. I would've—”
“Please.” Weston interrupted, his voice still soft. “Relax. It is nice to see you in your—natural habitat.”
Juliet laughed. A real one. The kind of laugh he'd seen at the spring masquerade ball. A flush of warmth filled Weston's heart.
“How long have you been out here?”
“A while.”
“Of course.”
