Page 28 of His Forsaken Duchess
He raised an eyebrow, his irritation rising. “Hunting trips are included in the ‘do not disrupt my peace’ rule.”
“Ah, but I am not disrupting anything,” she replied, tilting her head with an infuriating smile. “I am merely curious. Besides, you promised to give me an answer today.”
“I promised no such thing,” he said sharply.
She pursed her lips, undeterred. “You gave me your word, Duke, and your reputation as a man of honor precedes you.”
Cedric stared at her, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. She was the most aggravating creature he had ever encountered, yet the sight of her standing there, so delicate and out of place, stirred something he could not name.
Her vivid red dress clung to her figure, her dark hair catching the faint sunlight, and for a moment, he was tempted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to the castle without another word.
“Go back,” he ordered, his voice firm. “You’ll only freeze out here.”
“I don’t know the way,” she countered with a shrug, “and I’d likely get lost. But you needn’t worry. I’ll go with you—quietly, even.”
He exhaled sharply, knowing he was losing the battle. “I’ll take you back.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of disrupting your activity,” she said with mock innocence. “I could come along. I could carry whatever you catch!”
Cedric barked out a laugh, his breath fogging in the cold air. “Be careful, Duchess, or you may become the quarry.”
Her eyes sparkled as she raised an eyebrow. “Are you the hunter, then?”
He stepped closer, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “What do you think?”
“I think,” she replied, her tone light but teasing, “that you’re terrifying, but notthatterrifying.”
Her boldness was both maddening and strangely endearing.
He shook his head, pulling off his greatcoat as she shivered visibly.
Silly, little thing!
“You’ll catch your death,” he muttered, draping the heavy coat around her shoulders.
She looked up at him, startled but grateful. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, we’re going back.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Very well,” she relented, surprising him. But as they began walking back, her curiosity seemed uncontainable. “Why do you prefer the bow and arrow to pistols?” she asked.
“Pistols are loud,” he replied curtly. “The bow requires precision and patience. It’s quieter, more controlled.”
“What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever caught?”
He glanced at her, reluctant to answer, but her earnest expression made him relent. “An elk.”
Her eyes widened. “Truly? And what did you do with it?”
“I let it go,” he said simply.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I suppose I should have expected that.”
Cedric adjusted the bow in his hands, glancing at the Duchess as she stood before him, her hands resting on her hips.
“A bow requires precision,” he began, his voice calm, though his heartbeat was far from steady. “It’s not about strength, but control. Each movement must be deliberate.”
Audrey tilted her head, her chestnut-brown curls brushing her shoulder as she gave him her full attention. “Deliberate,” she repeated. “What do you mean?”
