Page 55 of Her Bear of a Duke

"Large," she nodded.

"Dorothy, if you are not comfortable–"

"No, no it is perfectly fine. I will be fine."

She hooked her foot in and hauled herself up. Morgan helped to lift her, and she expected him to make some kind of noise to signify that it required a good deal of his strength, but he did not. It was effortless for him. When she was at last sitting on the horse, she could not stop smiling.

She was not skilled, not by any means, but she could hold her own. She had not wanted Morgan to expect too much from her, but if she were being honest she loved horseback riding and she would thoroughly enjoy her morning.

"Does Catherine not ride?" she asked as they made their way across the grounds.

"No, she is far too unwell for that. Should she recover, I will consider it."

"Should she?" she echoed. "Do you not believe that she will?"

"It is difficult to say. Her doctor believes it is from the coldness of the water all those years ago, and it simply does not seem to be leaving her."

"That is to be expected," she nodded, "for she was so small."

Dorothy turned back to the window, only to faintly see Catherine watching from her windows. Her heart ached to see her that way.

"She continues to be," Morgan agreed, "which is why I must protect her, at any cost."

CHAPTER 20

Ever since Dorothy had met Catherine, she had wanted to know more about her, and now she was asking when she would leave the household.

It was not that Morgan was ashamed of her, and he never had been, but this was treacherous waters. If she was allowed out into the gardens, then soon she would ask to go even further afield, and then what would happen?

It risked judgment, and it was a judgment that she did not deserve.

He focused on the ride instead of mentioning this, however. He had wanted a pleasant morning, as he had found himself enjoying the company of his wife more and more with each passing day. He liked being in her presence, and it made him feel good when she was near him.

"Do you wish for us to go anywhere in particular?" she asked, her eyes curious.

"No, I had not thought of that. I thought we might wander for a while."

He was also not afraid to admit that she was a beautiful lady.

He wished that she could see it, that she was a refreshingly different sort of beauty. He had seen a hundred ladies in society, and each looked the same. Some were more angular, with sharper features, and some were softer, but Dorothy did not look like any of them. She was the sort of lady that enjoyed a meal, and that preferred to read a book than to promenade, and though that was perhaps not looked on kindly by polite society it was precisely what he also enjoyed.

"You have done marvelous work with these gardens," he commented. "I do not know how you find the time."

"It is easy, truly. The hardest part is the grass, as it takes the longest, but with how the weather has been of late it is at least growing slowly. Other than that, I need only tend to the flowers, which I enjoy."

"Even so, it is a great deal of work. I can find a gardener if you need."

"If you wish to do so, I will not argue, so long as I can continue to cultivate the flowers. I do so like doing it, as I can see the goodness that is done."

"That can be arranged," he agreed.

They continued on in silence, and Morgan watched her as they rode. He could tell that she was concentrating, not completely at ease, but she was doing far better than she had led him to believe. It was not unlike her; she never seemed to entirely believe in herself and her abilities, but she was yet to be incapable of anything. He wished that she had more faith in herself, but it would take time.

Meanwhile, he did want to know what had caused it.

"Why are you never certain of yourself?"

She looked at him with wide eyes.

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