"Your Grace?" Higgins had appeared at her elbow with silent efficiency, though his expression suggested he was prepared to explain the animal's presence if questioned. "I trust the creature is not disturbing you? I can have it moved to less conspicuous quarters if you prefer."
"Not at all, Higgins. I am merely surprised to find it here. I had assumed that the poor thing would have..." She trailed off, unwilling to voice her assumption that the puppy's injuries would have proved fatal without intervention.
"Oh no, Your Grace. His Grace was most particular that the animal should receive proper care. He ordered me personally to see to its needs and to spare no expense in ensuring its recovery."
The revelation struck Evangeline with such unexpected force that she found herself gripping the stall door for support. "His Grace requested this personally?"
"Oh indeed, Your Grace. Most emphatically, in fact. He summoned me to the library quite late last evening and was very explicit in his instructions regarding the creature's care—food, warmth, medical attention, whatever might be required. He has requested regular reports on its progress and has made it clear that additional resources should be provided without question."
Evangeline stared at the butler in complete confusion, her mind struggling to reconcile this evidence of Lucian's compassion with the harsh, intimidating man who had shownher nothing but cold formality since her arrival. The creature that had stirred her own sympathies during their estate tour—the suffering animal she had forced herself to abandon in deference to the proprieties of her position—had been rescued by the very man who had curtly ordered her to maintain their schedule.
"I see," she managed finally, though in truth she saw nothing clearly at all. The discovery left her feeling as disoriented as if she had awakened to find the world turned upside down. "And what are His Grace's intentions regarding the animal's future?"
"He has ordered that it should be trained properly once it has recovered its strength, Your Grace. He mentioned that a dog of good character might prove useful about the estate."
The practical justification seemed typical of Lucian's manner, yet no amount of estate management considerations could account for the level of care the puppy was receiving. Someone had spent considerable time and effort ensuring the creature's comfort, and that someone could only have been acting on her husband's direct orders.
What manner of man was she married to? How could someone who appeared so cold and calculating possess such hidden depths of kindness? The contradiction troubled her profoundly, suggesting that everything she thought she understood about her husband might be fundamentally mistaken.
As she made her way back to the main house, Evangeline felt as though she were navigating treacherous waters without a compass. The morning's encounters with the household staff had left her feeling inadequate and presumptuous, while the discovery of the rescued puppy had shaken her assumptions about Lucian's character in ways that she was not prepared to examine.
The remainder of the morning brought challenges thattested both her diplomatic skills and her confidence in her ability to fulfill her role as duchess. The village vicar, Reverend Whitmore, called to pay his respects and extend an invitation that filled her with dread at the prospect of making her first public appearance as the new duchess.
"Your Grace," the nervous clergyman ventured as they took tea in the drawing room—a formal ritual that made her acutely conscious of how little she knew about proper social protocols—"the parish would be most honoured by your participation in our autumn celebrations. The harvest festival has always been an occasion for the great house to demonstrate its connection to the local community."
The weight of expectation in his voice made her stomach clench with anxiety. How was she supposed to represent the dignity of the ducal family when she had never participated in anything more formal than village assemblies? What if she made some terrible error that exposed her humble origins to the entire community?
"I should be delighted to participate, Reverend Whitmore," she replied, hoping her voice conveyed more enthusiasm than she felt. "What manner of involvement would be most appropriate?"
"Traditionally, the duchess has provided prizes for the children's competitions and has attended the blessing of the harvest in the church. It would mean a great deal to the families if you would continue that custom."
The request seemed reasonable, yet Evangeline found herself wondering what sort of prizes would be appropriate, how much she should spend, and whether her choices would meet with community approval. The previous duchess had presumably known such things instinctively, while she would be fumbling through decisions that others would judge according to standards she did not yet understand.
"Certainly, Reverend. I shall be pleased to attend whatever ceremonies you deem appropriate."
"Thank you, Your Grace. The community has been eager to welcome you to our little parish."
The careful phrasing suggested that the local population had formed opinions about both her marriage and her suitability for her new role, though the vicar was too polite to voice such thoughts directly. The knowledge that she would be scrutinized and evaluated by people who had known the previous duchess filled her with fresh anxiety about living up to expectations she might not even comprehend.
***
It was during the afternoon, while struggling with household accounts that seemed impossibly complex compared to her father's simple ledgers, that she had occasion to observe Lucian's interaction with the staff in circumstances that revealed yet another puzzling aspect of his character.
"Thompson," she heard his voice addressing one of the grooms through the open window, "the bay mare requires immediate attention from the veterinary surgeon. She has developed a limp that may indicate a serious injury."
"Yes, Your Grace. Shall I send word to Mr. Hartley in the village?"
"Immediately. And Thompson—spare no expense in ensuring the animal receives proper treatment. I will not have it said that Ravenshollow horses suffer from inadequate care."
"Certainly, Your Grace."
"Thank you, Thompson. Your attention to the horses' welfare is most commendable."
The brief exchange left Evangeline staring at her ledgers with renewed confusion about her husband's true nature. His instructions had been delivered with characteristic authority, yetthey had concluded with words of appreciation that seemed both genuine and true. How could a man who appeared so harsh and unyielding possess such consideration for those who served him?
A similar pattern emerged over the next several hours as she observed his dealings with various members of the household staff. Whether discussing repairs with the head gardener, reviewing supply needs with Mrs. Cromwell, or addressing concerns raised by the stable master, Lucian consistently demonstrated the same approach—direct, sometimes brusque communication that nevertheless concluded with expressions of gratitude.
"Mrs. Cromwell," she heard him say during one such exchange, "see that the guest chambers in the south wing are thoroughly cleaned and aired. We may have need of them sooner than anticipated."
