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He met her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers. “My father would disagree.”

“Your father was wrong,” she said firmly, surprising even herself with the conviction in her tone.

Evan blinked, caught off guard, but his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“Perhaps he was.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them heavy with unspoken understanding. Emma felt the weight of his past pressing on her, and her heart ached for the boy he had been. She wondered what else Mrs. Havisham had withheld—what secrets lurked in the shadows of Evan’s upbringing.

But she also saw something else now: a man who, despite his father’s cruelty, had chosen to sit across from her this morning, offering kindness when she had expected indifference. Perhapsthere was more to him than she had ever allowed herself to believe.

And perhaps, she thought as she looked at him, there was more to their marriage than she had dared to hope. Just then, she saw their carriage arriving outside.

“Your ride into town is here,” she said, and he glanced out.

“I see. They will wait, of course, as breakfast is not yet finished. After that, I am afraid I must return into town.”

“Do you often have pressing matters in town? You seem to go there most days.”

Evan set his cup down with deliberate care, his gaze steady. “I do. Business, mostly.”

The vagueness of his response did little to satisfy her curiosity, though she hadn’t truly expected him to elaborate. She nodded, shifting her focus to the eggs on her plate. “And today? More business, I assume?”

A shadow of amusement crossed his face, though his tone remained polite. “Yes. It seems one’s work is never truly done.”

The comment lingered in the air, leaving Emma no closer to understanding the nature of his frequent excursions. Was it business—or something else? The thought of the letters she had found, especially the one addressed to “Rose,” crept into hermind, tightening her chest. Could they be connected? She felt an urge to ask, but something stopped her. She wasn’t sure she was ready to know the answer—or to let him know she had found them.

Instead, she pushed the thought aside and offered a neutral smile. “And when you’re not preoccupied with business? Do you ever allow yourself time for leisure?”

Evan raised a brow, a flicker of intrigue in his expression. “Naturally, I am a keen hunter and I love to ride. I have many interests.” He leaned back, regarding her with a faint smile. “And you? Have you been attending socials as Duchess yet?”

The question shifted the focus to her, and she hesitated for a moment. “It’s been challenging, given the circumstances that led to my elevation” she admitted, “but I’m beginning to find my footing. At first, I felt like a fraud stepping into a role that wasn’t truly mine, but... it’s becoming easier.” She glanced at him, surprised by the genuine interest in his expression. “The weight of it is less daunting than it was.”

Evan nodded, his expression softening. “I can imagine it’s no small adjustment.”

Emma felt a warmth rise in her chest at his acknowledgment. This wasn’t the cool, distant man she had grown accustomed to. This was someone else—someone who seemed to care, even if only a little. It reminded her of their dinners over the past week. While initially stilted, they had evolved into something... almostpleasant. Yet those moments had always felt deliberate, planned. This morning was different—spontaneous and oddly intimate.

As the conversation waned, a companionable quiet settled between them. Emma’s thoughts wandered to the letters again, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of her napkin. She wanted to ask, to confront the lingering questions that gnawed at her: Who was Rose? And was this mysterious woman the reason for his constant absences?

But as she studied him, his relaxed posture, the faint smile still playing on his lips, she faltered. This was not the moment. Not when they were finally speaking with something resembling warmth. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers—or reveal that the question had bothered her at all.

Evan broke the silence, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. “I’ve invited Jonathan to dine with me this evening,” he said, his tone casual. “I thought you might like to join us.”

Emma blinked, surprised by the offer. He’d invited a friend? And he wanted her there? She nodded, her reply more enthusiastic than she had intended. “I’d like that.”

He rose from his chair, smoothing his jacket as the staff cleared the table. “Good. Then I’ll see you this evening.”

As he left the room, Emma remained seated, staring at the empty doorway. This morning had felt different, a thread of something new weaving between them. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it lingered, stirring something inside her that shecouldn’t quite name. For the first time in a long time, she wondered if their marriage—this strange, tenuous partnership—might become something more.

As he left the room, Emma remained seated, staring at the empty doorway. This morning had felt different, a thread of something new weaving between them. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it lingered, stirring something inside her that she couldn’t quite name. For the first time in a long time, she wondered if their marriage—this strange, tenuous partnership—might become something more.

CHAPTER 23

Evan

The evening was quiet but for the occasional whisper of the wind beyond the estate. The smell of roasted pheasant wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of beeswax candles that flickered in the sconces. Evan leaned back in the plush interior of his carriage, his jaw tight as the rhythmic sound of wheels against gravel filled his ears. His bad mood lingered like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive, as he replayed the earlier events in his mind.

He had left in such high spirits only to find himself entirely robbed of it after his visit with Rose.