Chapter Two

O wen dismounted his horse and cursed as his boot sank into a fresh pile of animal dung. He lifted his foot with a grimace, scowling at the shite mocking his fortune. “Who the devil would want to live in a place like this?” he grumbled, dragging his boot furiously across a patch of grass.

The so-called village—if one could call it that—was little more than a scattering of ragged huts tucked away in the woods, isolated from any echo of cultured life. His gaze drifted to the scruffy village boy poking at sticks, eyeing him with suspicion. Something about the lad tugged at the edge of Owen’s mind as the boy finished his prodding and slipped into his hut. A faint sense of familiarity lingered. Sharp. Unsettling.

Thalia.

She had to be here.

Running away aside, what really set his teeth on edge was that damnable marriage her uncle had arranged without even consulting her. The fact that he hadn’t been considered either stung in ways he refused to admit. Not that her uncle owed him anything, but the late earl—her father—had always made it clear that he should have a say in matters concerning Thalia after his death.

Owen had come here today straight from the Earl of Cambourne’s estate, but not before spending the entire night in the man’s study with a bottle of cognac, piecing together where she might have run off to. If this wasn’t the place, then he didn’t know what the bloody hell he’d do next.

He blinked as the door to the boy’s hut slowly groaned shut, dragging like something from a bad dream where everything moved in slow motion. Then a hand—small, deliberate—shot out from inside, grasped the door handle, and bang! The door slammed shut, jarring all the nerves in his body.

He narrowed his eyes. Something seemed strange. “Odd lad...” he murmured, stepping forward. His instincts prickled. There was something about the boy’s posture, in the way he carried himself. A sudden thought occurred to him. Could it be?

No. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

His heart kicked up as recognition dawned, and in an instant, the boy’s face melted into hers— Thalia’s face . His breath caught in his throat, his body stilling as everything fell into place.

It was her.

Dressed in breeches, no less!

Owen’s heart hammered in his chest, the disbelief in his mind warring with a fierce urge to storm over and demand answers. How could he have missed it? She’d been right in front of him, hiding in plain sight, and he hadn’t realized.

His jaw clenched as a flood of emotions swept through him, tightening his chest. Damn it, Thalia . She’d nearly succeeded in removing herself from his life—vanishing into this rural nowhere with no intention of returning.

He tugged at his cravat.

“Did you see that boy? It’s Thalia, and the chit’s wearing breeches!” His face suddenly felt hot.

“I quite like her outfit,” Harriet announced.

Leeds coughed.

“The chit can hear you,” a muffled voice came from inside the hut.

All the tension from the past few days drained from Owen’s body. “That’s because there are gaps between the wooden beams. Just who built this place? By Jove! Do not tell me you mean to stay here forever?”

“And what if I do? If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave,” her voice floated back, cool and composed, as though she hadn’t upended his entire world with her disappearance.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Owen gritted out.

“Suit yourself.”

He turned to Leeds, his face grim. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her back?”

“I’ll just run away again if you do,” Thalia called.

Owen pinched the bridge of his nose, the weight of inevitability pressing heavy on his heart. If he couldn’t drag her back, he’d have no choice but to move in to keep an eye on her and begin the certainly arduous task of convincing her to return to the world. The thought made him inwardly groan.

“By the by, what do you eat here?”

“Whatever you forage.”

“Forget I asked.” Luckily, he’d had the foresight to pack provisions. Sleeping arrangements might be another matter.

But that left the real question: why wouldn’t she just return with him? She must know that with him here now, he wouldn’t allow her to be forced into any marriage. Or did she truly mean to retire here? He rubbed a hand over his face. This had to be some sort of female stubbornness, a phase she’d eventually snap out of. God help him if he said that aloud, though. He’d have to tread carefully, or she’d likely take a stick to his skull for his trouble.

His mind raced. “Let’s make a deal,” he called, determined.

The door opened, and she appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips, the breeze tousling her now loose hair. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight. “What kind of deal?”

Their gazes locked, and his heart suddenly thundered in his ears. It was happening again. The moment his eyes met hers, it felt as if his entire body melted beneath her stare. His chest tightened, warmth spreading through him like sunlight breaking through a clouded sky.

“If you don’t return with me, I’ll move in with you.” He lifted his chin. “See if I’m not serious!”

He wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers.

Again.

*

He couldn’t be serious—move in with her? Her eyes widened like two full moons. “That’s not a deal! That’s an ultimatum!”

His friend, the Marquess of Leeds, still atop his horse, cleared his throat. “Harriet and I shall explore the woodlands a bit.” He nodded at Thalia, while his wife gave a little wave before they nudged their horses and galloped off.

“It’s not an ultimatum,” Calstone said to Thalia, his voice steady. “It’s a fact.”

“Do not quibble with me about word choices. You know very well what it is and what it is not.”

The duke adjusted his cravat again, his brow furrowing as he cleared his throat. “What else can I do when you’ve decided to settle here?”

“My being here doesn’t mean you must settle here!” Her eyes narrowed on him, a fire igniting within her. “How did you find me anyway?”

“You left a cryptic note for your uncle about going off to live a simple life, and you once mentioned visiting a remote woodland village where you would retire if you were a spinster still at thirty.”

He remembered that? Her traitorous heart skipped a beat. No, no, no! Do not let this rogue sway you with his wretched tongue! The very tongue that rejected her confession five years ago. Just recalling such a small detail now didn’t mean anything.

He strode closer, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to steel herself against the effect he had on her. “No.”

The rogue suddenly grinned, that infuriatingly charming smile. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Happy, her derriere! But he looked as handsome as ever, with his tousled chestnut hair windswept and a day’s worth of stubble coating his jaw. She’d never seen him this disheveled before.

Blue eyes refused to let her go. “I am parched.”

She scoffed at his hint. “There’s a river over yonder. Help yourself.”

“So savage. What will it take for you to invite me into your little home?”

Now he was calling it her home? “You do know it’s highly improper to announce you’ll be moving in with me. It’s even more unthinkable to actually do so.”

“No more unthinkable than you running away.”

“Running away is hardly scandalous compared to you moving in,” Thalia countered, a spark igniting in her chest. “Have you finally taken leave of your senses?”

“No.” He paused, his gaze probing hers in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck raise. “I believe I finally found them.”

Just how far would this maddening man take it? “Very well.” She eyed him up and down, weighing her words, curiosity suddenly blooming, and a small hint of desire for retaliation. “You may move in with me. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

Thalia smiled. So eager. “You bathe naked in the river.”

He blinked, confusion flickering across his handsome face. “What?”

She smirked, leaning against the door frame. “What’s wrong? Afraid of a little cold water?”

“Of course not,” he denied, though his tone was less certain, perhaps even a tiny bit belligerent. “Have you bathed naked in the river?”

Thalia shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“There are other villagers! Men! What if someone saw you? Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”

He sounded so put out she almost laughed. “What’s there to worry about? It was at night.”

“Even worse! What about snakes? Wolves? And peeping men you can’t see in the dark?”

She’d never seen his hackles rise like this before. “There are no wolves here, Owen.”

“But there are snakes.”

“Why are you getting so worked up? The village is perfectly safe. All the men are asleep by the time night falls. In fact, I might just find one of those men to marry myself. They are the ones who should be afraid.”

The look on his face turned comical, and she couldn’t help but snort.

“How could you say... or even think such a thing,” he all but spluttered.

“ Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak .”

“Good God, why is everyone quoting Shakespeare to me?” he exclaimed, exasperation threading through his voice.

“Perhaps because of your theatrical antics?”

His gaze narrowed to a glare.

A thrill raced down her spine at that hot look, and she grinned at him. If he wanted to stay, fine—she would make him wish he hadn’t.

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