"They have been loyal, rather than merely patient. Loyalty that deserves better treatment than they have received."
Her observation was delivered without accusation, yet she saw him stiffen in his saddle as though she had struck him. "I am well aware of my failures, Evangeline. You need not cataloguethem for my edification."
"I do not seek to catalogue your failures, but rather to understand the scope of the challenges we must address together. Self-incrimination serves no useful purpose in solving practical problems."
"How refreshingly practical of you."
"Someone must be practical, since you seem determined to wallow in guilt rather than take constructive action."
The sharp exchange might have escalated into open argument had they not been interrupted by a pitiful whimpering that seemed to emanate from a collapsed section of stone wall beside the path. Evangeline's attention was immediately drawn to the sound, her gaze searching among the rubble until she spotted the source—a small, bedraggled puppy that could not have been more than a few months old.
The creature was in deplorable condition, its coat matted with mud and debris from the previous night's rain, its small frame shivering with cold and apparent hunger. One leg appeared to be injured, causing it to hold the limb at an awkward angle, while its ribs showed clearly through its sodden fur. The sight struck Evangeline with unexpected force, reminding her painfully of her own recent state of desperate vulnerability.
She found herself leaning forward in her saddle, every instinct urging her to dismount and offer assistance to the suffering animal. Her hands tightened on the reins as she fought the impulse to abandon propriety and tend to the creature's obvious needs, her body language betraying her desire to act despite the restraint she imposed upon herself.
A duchess, she reminded herself firmly, did not leap from her horse to rescue stray animals, no matter how pitiful their circumstances. Such behavior would be unseemly, inappropriate to her station, and likely to earn her husband's displeasure. She was no longer free to follow her charitable impulses withoutconsideration for the dignity of her position.
"Evangeline," Lucian's voice cut through her internal struggle with harsh impatience, "we have a schedule to maintain. I would prefer not to spend the entire day examining every corner of the property in exhaustive detail."
"Of course, Your Grace," she replied with careful formality, though she could not prevent herself from casting one final, concerned glance toward the injured puppy before urging her mare forward.
Lucian's sharp eyes, however, had not missed the direction of her attention or the way her entire posture had changed upon spotting the abandoned animal. He noted with interest how she had fought against her obvious impulse to dismount and assist the creature, the visible struggle between compassion and propriety that played across her expressive features before duty prevailed over inclination.
The remainder of their tour proceeded in relative silence, with Evangeline offering occasional observations about drainage improvements or structural repairs while Lucian provided terse responses that revealed his intimate knowledge of the estate's problems without suggesting any enthusiasm for addressing them. By the time they returned to the Manor, the grey afternoon had given way to early evening, and both riders appeared thoroughly dampened by the persistent drizzle that seemed to characterize Yorkshire weather.
"I shall review the account books this evening," Evangeline informed him as they reached the stable yard, her manner businesslike despite the weariness that marked her features. "Tomorrow we might discuss specific measures for addressing the most urgent repairs."
"As you wish," Lucian replied with the same formal courtesy that had marked their entire interaction. "Mrs. Cromwell will provide you with whatever documentation you require."
Their first evening as married partners proved to be an exercise in elaborate politeness that somehow managed to be more exhausting than open hostility would have been. Dinner was served in the smaller dining room, its atmosphere made oppressive by the careful distance they maintained despite sharing the same table and the same concerns about their mutual responsibilities.
"The tenant cottages require immediate attention before winter," Evangeline observed as she delicately navigated her way through courses that seemed designed more for show than sustenance. "Several families are living in conditions that are simply unacceptable."
"I am aware of the conditions," Lucian replied with barely concealed irritation. "The question is not what needs to be done, but rather how to finance the necessary improvements given the estate's current revenues."
"Perhaps if the drainage issues were addressed, agricultural productivity might improve sufficiently to fund other repairs."
"And who do you propose should oversee such improvements? I have found local contractors to be unreliable at best."
"Then perhaps we might bring in specialists from London, even if the initial expense is greater."
"Specialists who would charge London prices for Yorkshire work, no doubt."
Their conversation continued in this vein throughout the meal, a careful dance of suggestion and objection that revealed both their shared concern for the estate's welfare and their complete inability to discuss such matters without descending into subtle antagonism. By the time the last course had been cleared away, both appeared thoroughly weary of maintaining civil discourse while navigating the complexities of their new relationship.
"I believe I shall retire early this evening," Evangeline announced as they rose from the table, her manner suggesting relief at the prospect of escaping to the solitude of her chambers. "The day has been rather illuminating."
"Indeed, it has," Lucian agreed, though his tone suggested he found such illumination less than entirely welcome. "Good evening, Evangeline."
"Good evening, Lucian."
After she departed for her chambers, Lucian made his way to the library with the intent of losing himself in correspondence that might distract him from the uncomfortable realities of sharing his domestic space with a woman whose presence seemed to highlight every deficiency in his character and circumstances. Yet he found himself unable to concentrate on estate business or financial records, his thoughts returning repeatedly to the image of Evangeline's face when she had spotted the injured puppy.
The way she had leaned forward in her saddle, her entire body language betraying her desire to dismount and tend to the suffering creature, had struck him with unexpected force. He had watched her fight against her charitable impulses, seen the visible struggle between compassion and propriety that played across her expressive features before duty prevailed over inclination. The restraint she had imposed upon herself had been admirable, yet it had also revealed a kindness of character that seemed at odds with the careful formality that marked their interactions.
He was still contemplating this puzzle when he realized he had made a decision without conscious deliberation. Rising from his desk with sudden purpose, Lucian rang for Higgins with the sharp urgency of a man accustomed to having his commands obeyed immediately.
The elderly butler appeared with his usual promptness,though his expression suggested mild surprise at being summoned at such an hour. "Your Grace? How may I be of service?"
