Page 62 of Her Devil of a Duke
Rafe followed him to the window and looked out. His jaw fell slack when he saw how thickly the snow had fallen.
That damn snow!
He bent forward, his hands on his knees as the true magnitude of what he would have to traverse through struck him. If he was going to reach Evelyn this night, he’d have to make it through the snow.
“The stablemaster is downstairs now in the kitchens. The stables are snowed in, Your Grace,” Stede explained.
“God’s wounds.” Rafe stood and turned in a mad circle again. “Then there’s nothing for it. I shall have to go on foot.”
“On foot? Where? In this weather?!” Stede asked a series of wild questions as Rafe moved to the coat stand at the side of the hallway. He pulled on the thickest frock coat he owned, heaving it firmly across his body. “Your Grace, forgive me, but… where are you going? Why? It is dangerous out there! And I know–” He broke off sharply, looking down with the crests of his cheeks colored pink.
“Yes,” Rafe exhaled. “The snow and I do not go well together.” He was surprised it was something Stede had noticed in the time Rafe had been here. “Yet tonight I must face it. I am going to find Evelyn and bring her back.”
“Bring her back?” Stede lifted his chin in surprise, his eyes wide.
“What you must think of me now, eh?” Rafe laughed just once as he looked at the butler. “I’ve been quite the disgraceful duke, haven’t I? These last few years.”
“I would never, I mean, I–” He shook his head abruptly, his jowls trembling.
“Fear not,” Rafe assured him. “I have been, I know it. I’ve driven my own reputation into the ground, but rest assured now that my intentions are honorable. I intend to ask Evelyn to marry me.”
He had to. He couldn’t bear the thought now that Evelyn could marry another man, a man she did not care for, when she cared for him so deeply.
“Oh.” Stede abruptly moved past Rafe. He reached for the coat stand and snatched up a scarf and a top hat. “Then take these, Your Grace. You will need to wrap up well to face that snow.”
Rafe laughed at Stede’s sudden eagerness.
Petra suddenly appeared from behind the butler. “Your Grace, let me fetch you some other boots too, you’ll need something sturdier for this weather.”
Rafe felt a warm feeling in his chest as the servants at the castle, one by one, offered them his help and advice. It only further bolstered his conviction. How Evelyn had managed to leave such a lasting impression on all of them while only staying not much longer than a week was endearing.
Rafe pulled on the hat and scarf as Petra hurried off. She returned moments later with a thicker pair of walking boots, rather than the classic hessian boots Rafe wore most of the time. He pulled them over his trousers, tucking in the hems, then stood straight, wrapping the scarf tightly around his mouth.
“At least let a footman or a groundskeeper go with you, Your Grace. They could help to clear some of the snow,” Stede added quickly.
“No, that will not be necessary.” Rafe reached for the front door and opened it wide. His body stilled as he looked at the frosty world beyond. He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat. “Nothing changes the fact that this is dangerous weather, Stede. I will not ask my servants to traverse it.”
Silence descended between them as Rafe looked out at the ice. For the first time, he didn’t think of Juliet. He didn’t think of the past, and the way the cold world enshrouded him. The estate was no longer enveloped in this air of death, but something else entirely. The snow glistened with temptation, the knowledge that if he walked through it, he could get everything he had ever wanted.
I can bring Evelyn home again.
“Your Grace?” Stede’s words caught his attention and Rafe looked back, meeting his eye. “We pray you be careful,” he pleaded. “I wouldn’t want to hear you had been hurt.”
Rafe smiled at the butler, stunned at the transformation in him. Over the last couple of days, they had garnered a little more respect for one another. Rafe nodded at him in gratitude.
“I shall take care. Thank you. Lock this door after me, Stede. Look after the house and the people within until I return.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Stede smiled one more time.
Rafe turned to the snowy world beyond and stepped out. The first few steps on the frosted pavement had him holding his breath. When he reached the drive, the cold wind was so bitter, he was forced to breathe in sharply. He tucked his hands into his pockets, finding leather gloves and pulling them on over his wrists.
Glancing back, he watched Stede shut the door, hearing it bolt, the clunking sound competing against the wind that whistled in his ears. As Stede disappeared from view, Rafe turned forward.
For a second, his stomach quelled and his fingers felt like blocks of ice. It would be so simple to change his mind and retreat inside, to hide from this fear as he had always done, but that choice seemed impossible now.
“I have to go,” Rafe muttered as he strode forward with conviction. He walked down the drive, remembering the exact description that Simon had given to the Gullivers’ house in Sussex. It should have been a half an hour's walk, at most, but in this weather, it was likely to take much longer.
As Rafe reached the main road, the snow seemed to pile on faster and faster.
