William sensed the steward’s reluctance to fully embrace the changes, but he also knew that time would eventually soften Hancock’s reservations. “Thank you, Mr. Hancock. Your loyalty and service mean a great deal to me.”
With a final nod, Hancock turned to leave, but William called after him. “Mr. Hancock, if you have any suggestions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to bring them to my attention.”
Hancock paused, then nodded again. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Continuing to wander through the mansion, William found himself back in his study, realizing that there was a note on his writing table. Curious, he approached it and took it in his hand.
Your Grace,
I will go to the village after church and find someone to mend your broken window. It is the least I can do.
Sincerely
Rose
William frowned. The least she could do? He couldn’t understand her reasoning. She hadn’t done anything wrong, just as he had already told her. Surely, she knew that such matters would be handled by Mr. Hancock. He placed the note back on the writing table, its presence stirring a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
The events of the previous night flashed vividly in his mind—the kiss, the intensity of the moment, and the undeniable connection he felt with Rose. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his conflicting emotions. Guilt gnawed at him. He was a duke, and she was his maid. It was inappropriate, a breach of the trust and boundaries that should exist between them.
Yet, despite the guilt, he couldn’t deny the longing that pulsed through him. The way her lips had felt against his, the softness of her touch, the spark that ignited between them—these sensations haunted him, making him yearn for more.
He sat down heavily in his chair, staring at the note once more. Rose was thoughtful and capable, always going beyond her duties, and he admired that about her. But it was more than admiration. It was a deep, growing affection that he hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure how to handle.
Not wanting to linger there any longer and remain stuck in the vortex of his own thoughts which threatened to pull him apart, he decided to head to the stables. The broken window from the night before had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit, and he feared that there could be more damage, especially in the stables.
His horse Midnight had been with him since it was barely older than a filly, a steadfast companion through all his trials. The thought of anything happening to him filled him with dread. Without even realizing, he hastened his step, reaching the barn. He entered, when suddenly, several shadows started to move about.
“Run! He’s here!” William heard voices, and he knew that the same boys had returned, obviously to finish what they had started the previous night.
His gaze darted in all directions, but he couldn’t catch sight of any of them. They were already heading towards the back, where they slipped out, leaving him alone in the stables. He inhaled deeply, a strange scent irritating his nostrils. He couldn’t immediately recognize the scent, but he recognized the smoke, which appeared at the far end. A sense of horror gripped him.
“Fire!” he shouted, hoping that no one else was around or inside the stables, but him and the horses, all of which started to neigh nervously, sensing the imminent danger.
Somewhere in the distance, boyish laughter exploded, their voices carrying on the wind. He couldn’t believe that there was so much malice in such young souls. He had not seen that even in hardened war veterans. He quickly reminded himself where he was and what was happening. Panic surged through him.
“Midnight?” he shouted, calling for his horse.
The smoke thickened, stinging his eyes and clawing at his throat, as long flickering tongues of fire started to dance around him. He pushed through, lifting his arm and burying his nose into the inner side of his elbow, in hopes that the fabric of his shirt would provide some sort of barrier between his nose and the smoke.
Within seconds, the fire had already taken hold. Flames licked hungrily at the wooden beams and stacks of hay, crackling with fierce intensity. He spotted Midnight, wild-eyed and terrified,kicking at the stall door. William's heart pounded as he raced to free him. He yanked the latch open and guided him out, the horse bolting away to safety. He did the same with the other three horses.
With all of them safe, William turned back to the inferno. He grabbed a nearby bucket, desperate to douse the flames, but it was a futile effort. The fire had spread too quickly, fed by the dry hay and timber. He threw bucket after bucket of water, each splash seeming insignificant against the roaring blaze.
The heat was unbearable, and the smoke thickened, making it hard to breathe. William's vision blurred, his head spinning. He stumbled, feeling the fire's relentless advance. Just as he was about to collapse, a wave of dizziness overtook him. The world darkened, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Chapter 16
“Montford Manor?” the man repeated upon being told the location of the window in question. “No, I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to go there. There are too many broken windows in the village needing my attention.”
Rose frowned. “Really?”
“Yes,” the man confirmed. “Why don’t you try somewhere else?”
“I have already tried somewhere else,” she replied in an annoyed tone of voice. “You and I both know that there are only two glass repairers in the entire village. And you two both seem equally reluctant to change a window just because it belongs to the Duke of Montford.”
The man shrugged unapologetically. “It would seem that we are both just overly busy.”
“Yes, overly busy,” Rose replied, equally unapologetically, as she left the man’s store and exited onto the street.
