Page 22 of The Recluse of Wolfeton House (Ladies of Devon 4)

“But,” Giulia said thoughtfully, “you really are just looking for your cat. What if that is all it takes to meet the duke and then you fall madly in love? You could marry your neighbor and never have to leave Devon again.”

“Except this is not his ducal seat,” Hattie reminded them. “He has chosen to hide here for a reason.”

“That is a valid point,” Giulia said. She gasped. “What if he is running from something terrible? Or perhaps he committed a crime in a different country and is hiding away now. Maybe you oughtn’t try to meet him after all.”

Lucy scoffed. “Everyone knows why the duke is hiding here.”

All heads turned her direction.

“He ran away just days after his father’s death and has never once stepped foot in lords. He clearly does not wish to be a duke and is hiding out here to avoid his responsibility. I would not be surprised if he doesn’t allow his servants to address him by his title, even.”

Hattie knew that was not the case. His butler had said Your Grace several times, as had she, and Bentley hadn’t once flinched.

“All this is conjecture, and it does us no good to make assumptions about a man we do not know,” Amelia said with steady reserve.

“How virtuous you all are,” Lucy said. “I feel quite chastised now. Though I have a feeling you would perhaps not judge my methods once Hattie and the duke were wed.”

Giulia grinned. “Likely not.”

The women said their farewells shortly afterward and parted with Amelia on the lane. The day had moved into afternoon, the sun beginning its descent across the wide, open sky. A layer of clouds blanketed the earth, giving the cool day a faint grayish glow and blocking any potential warmth. Hattie shivered from the chill air as it reached through the gaps in her habit’s sleeve and neckline.

“Do you truly believe it is so wrong to seek out an opportunity to meet a man?” Lucy asked from atop her borrowed mare.

“I’ve sought plenty of opportunities to do just that. But I won’t try to capture anyone, regardless of their status.”

Lucy scoffed. “Then why are you so opposed to marriage?”

Hattie’s fingers itched within their gloves to slap her reins and urge her horse into a full gallop away from her sister-in-law. It was as though the woman intentionally did not hear the things Hattie said. She felt as though she could not have made her position on this matter more clear, and she was blasted tired of speaking about it.

“I will find my husband when I am ready, Lucy.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Lucy said mockingly. “You believe in fate.”

“I do. Not that it should matter. My beliefs are my own, and they do no harm to you or anyone else.”

Lucy’s lips pinched together. “It is no secret that you do not welcome my advice, but if you would only stop to listen to me, you might understand that I do have more experience than you and could have some wisdom to impart.”

Funny, Hattie felt the same in reverse. She gripped her reins tighter and forced the irritation from her face. “Very well, I promise to listen to you if you promise to listen to me in return.”

“I can agree to that.” Clearing her throat, Lucy slowed her horse. “I will go first. There is no harm in seeking a love match if that is what you desire. I am quite happy in mine, and it would be silly for me to suggest otherwise when I have experienced the beauty of it firsthand. But in order to make a love match, you have to put yourself in the position to actually meet gentlemen. For all you know, the man that fate has determined should be yours lives in Melbury. You could meet him at an assembly, fall madly in love, and be glad that fate thought to pair the two of you. But you will never meet him if you never leave your estate.”

“I’m away from my estate right now,” Hattie said, the words spilling from her lips as though they chose to argue regardless of her intentions. She snapped her mouth closed.

Lucy chose to ignore her. “A concerted effort to put yourself in a position to meet gentlemen is not forcing fate, or forcing love, or whatever else you accuse me of wanting for you.”

“That may not be, I will grant you that, but scheming to walk about the duke’s woods in an effort to meet him most certainly is.”

“Unless fate sent me along to ensure that you met the duke,” Lucy quipped with a saucy smile.

Oh, heavens. The woman truly understood nothing of these matters.

They passed onto the Greens’ property and skirted the lake, the grove of trees just beyond them looming in the ever-darkening afternoon. The clouds were growing thicker and the wind began to whip around them. Rain was coming. It was a blessed thing they were so close to home.

But what if Romeo was in those trees somewhere? He would be cold, alone, and in danger of soaking when the heavens opened. She needed to get home and write that note to the duke so she could search his trees.

“I think we ought to agree that our opinions on this will never coincide.” Hattie could feel her horse growing restless under her, their slow pace grating on the mare’s need to run. “And now it is my turn to explain—”

Lucy took off to the west, quickening her horse into a gallop as they moved in the direction of the woods.

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