Page 23 of His Forsaken Duchess
“The north is known for its long winters, Your Grace,” Miss Smith said from her seat as she embroidered.
Audrey threw her hands up in frustration. “I know that, Miss Smith. It was not a question requiring an answer.”
Miss Smith quickly stood up, smoothing her skirts. “Perhaps a warm cup of tea would lift your spirits?”
Audrey shook her head, pushing away from the window. “No, fetch my warmest cloak instead. I am going out.”
Miss Smith’s eyes widened in alarm. “In the cold? Surely not, Your Grace!”
Audrey shrugged, her lips pressing into a tight line. “The Duke is colder than the weather, and I am convinced that a breath of fresh air will do me far more good than remaining cooped up inside.”
Miss Smith hesitated, wringing her hands. “But?—”
“Miss Smith,” Audrey interrupted, her tone firm yet not unkind. “If I remain in this castle for one more minute, I may very well perish. Now, fetch my cloak.”
With a reluctant curtsy, Miss Smith hurried to comply, leaving Audrey to pace the room. She rubbed her arms absently, her frustration mounting. This was not how this trip was meant to go. She should have been in London, standing by Lilianna, facing the ton together. Instead, she was trapped here, snowed in with a husband who had yet to agree to help her.
Her fingers traced the edge of the windowpane as she stared at the swirling snow.
What am I going to do?she wondered, her thoughts swirling as chaotically as the storm outside.
A small voice answered her question, quiet but firm.Take a walk.
When Miss Smith returned with the cloak, Audrey draped it over her shoulders and hurried downstairs determinedly. As she reached the grand foyer, Potts appeared, bowing respectfully.
“Your Grace,” he said, his voice polite yet cautious.
Audrey moved toward the door, her footsteps echoing in the grand space.
Potts straightened and stepped forward. “It is very cold outside, Your Grace.”
“I am well aware, Potts,” she replied crisply, pausing only briefly before gesturing for him to open the door.
With a faint frown, he complied, pulling the heavy door open to reveal the swirling snowstorm beyond.
Audrey stepped outside and was immediately hit by an icy gust of wind that made her teeth clatter. She pulled her cloak tighteraround herself, her breath puffing visibly in the air. Despite the chill seeping through her boots, she pressed forward, her chin lifted.
Miss Smith hurried after her. “Your Grace, you’ll catch your death out here!”
Audrey turned to her, her tone brisk. “And so will you if you insist on following me. Go back inside, Miss Smith. That is an order.”
“But, Your Grace?—”
“Go,” Audrey repeated, her gaze firm but not unkind. “I will not have you falling ill on my account.”
Miss Smith hesitated but eventually curtsied and retreated into the warmth of the castle.
Audrey turned back to the snowy garden, her boots crunching through the fresh layer of snow. Everything was still, the pristine white landscape stretching out before her, unmarred by footprints save her own.
She hadn’t gone far when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw the Duke striding toward her, his expression as stormy as the weather. His broad shoulders were tense, his coat whipping around his legs as the wind picked up.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing out here?” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
“Taking a walk,” she replied evenly, though her breath hitched as the cold wind stung her cheeks.
“Can you not feel how cold it is?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing on her.
The wind howled, lifting her skirts slightly, and she shivered despite herself.
