Chapter Ten #2
Anthony pictured Evangeline how she'd been the night before, standing beside the fire, the soft glow of the candles catching in her golden hair.
The pale fabric of her nightgown had lent her an air of vulnerability that was entirely at odds with the quiet determination she carried herself with during the day.
"That is not the problem."
“Then why?”
"I don't know," Anthony admitted, his frustration mounting.
Outside, carriages rolled past in the busy London streets as Sebastian studied him for a long moment.
"You know, practical marriages have a way of becoming less practical after things become physical."
Anthony frowned. "I have no intention of my marriage straying from its true intention."
"No one ever does."
***
The conversation lingered in Anthony's thoughts long after he left the club.
By the time he returned to Blackwood Hall that evening, clouds had gathered across the sky.
The carriage rolled through the estate gates as wind swept over the moors, bending tall grasses beneath an approaching storm. The familiar sight of Blackwood Hall emerged gradually from the gathering dusk, its pale stone walls darkening beneath the heavy clouds overhead.
Ordinarily, returning home brought him immediate relief, but tonight he found himself oddly uncertain.
He had spent much of the ride expecting awkwardness when he returned. The memory of the previous evening remained fresh in his mind.
Evangeline standing in his study. The hurt in her eyes and the humiliation she had tried so hard to conceal.
He had handled the situation poorly; Anthony knew it, and the guilt had followed him all day.
As he entered the dining room shortly before eight o'clock, he prepared himself for strained conversation. Instead, Evangeline rose from her seat and greeted him with calm courtesy.
"Good evening, Your Grace."
Her expression revealed nothing. No embarrassment or reproach.
If the previous evening had affected her at all, she gave no sign of it. To his surprise, he found this strangely disappointing.
He pushed the thought aside as he sat down. Dinner began with all the formality Blackwood Hall had observed for generations.
Footmen moved quietly around the long mahogany table while silver serving dishes reflected the warm glow of candlelight.
Beyond the tall windows, evening shadows stretched across the moors, turning the landscape beyond the glass into a dark sea of heather and distant hills.
The first course, a delicate white soup seasoned with herbs from the kitchen gardens, was served with fresh bread still warm from the ovens.
He glanced over at Evangeline. She sat opposite him in a gown of soft blue silk that caught the candlelight whenever she moved. Her expression remained calm and pleasant, revealing nothing of what she might be thinking.
Anthony found that far more unsettling than open hostility.
For several minutes, the only sounds came from the clink of silver against china and the quiet movements of servants attending the table.
Then Evangeline looked up at him. "How was your day?"
"Productive," he answered.
A smile touched her mouth. "That sounds suspiciously vague."
Anthony glanced up from his soup. "I met with the lawyer."
Evangeline nodded as a footman appeared to remove the first course and replace it with the next. Roast chicken, asparagus from the estate gardens, and early summer vegetables were arranged before them.
Anthony reached for his wine.
Across the table, Evangeline folded her napkin more neatly in her lap.
"Rosalind visited this morning."
Anthony paused. The mention of her sister immediately brought to mind the fiercely protective young woman who still regarded him as though he might lock Evangeline in a tower somewhere on the estate.
"She wished to ensure I was settling in."
Anthony suspected that was a diplomatic version of events. "I see."
Then she set down her fork and looked at him thoughtfully. "I spent part of the afternoon with Mrs Dearwell." Anthony glanced up. "She has been teaching me about the household."
There was a seriousness to her expression that immediately caught his attention.
"I thought it important to understand my responsibilities properly."
Anthony nodded.
"Mrs Dearwell mentioned that there are several tenant villages attached to the estate."
"There are."
"Do you visit them often?"
"I visit when necessary."
Evangeline considered this. "I should like to see them myself."
Anthony paused. "Why?"
She looked almost startled by the question.
"Because they are part of Blackwood."
The answer came so naturally that he found himself studying her more closely.
"And I should like to understand how people live," she continued. "And Mrs Dearwell mentioned there is a school supported by the estate."
"There is."
"I would like to visit that as well."
Anthony set down his wine. "And what else did Mrs Dearwood tell you?"
"Well, I realise that the estate is considerably larger than the Hall itself," she said, sitting back in her chair, looking thoughtful. "And I suppose I never truly considered how many people depend upon it."
"Most people do not."
Anthony had long ago become accustomed to society's tendency to view titles and estates as little more than privileges. They rarely thought about responsibility or consequences.
"What happens during poor harvests?" she asked.
The question surprised him. "What do you mean?"
"If a tenant loses a crop. Or livestock." She hesitated. "Surely not every year is prosperous."
"No."
"So then what happens?"
Anthony set down his glass. "That depends upon circumstances. We can reduce rents temporarily. Extend credit. Arrange supplies through estate stores. It varies."
Evangeline frowned slightly. "And last winter?"
Anthony paused. "Last winter was difficult."
She leaned forward. "Difficult how?"
"The late frosts were unexpected, and the damage done to the crops was severe," he explained. "There was also a lot of illness among the tenants."
"But the families recovered?" she asked.
"Most of them."
Her expression softened. "Not all?"
Anthony shook his head once, and for a moment, neither spoke.
"That must have been difficult," she said quietly.
"Few people understand the weight of responsibility that accompanies managing an estate this size," Anthony said.
"I wish to understand," she said, holding his gaze. "If you are willing."
A footman appeared to replace their plates before withdrawing once more.
Anthony studied her for a moment. Most duchesses occupied themselves with entertaining, shopping, and social obligations.
"Is that really how you wish to occupy your time?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "I think I ought to know where I can be useful. After all, I am the Duchess now, which means the estate and the tenants are my responsibility, too."
Anthony found himself unexpectedly impressed.
"Very well," he agreed. "If you wish to learn about how the estate is run, then I will teach you."
For a brief moment Evangeline simply stared. Then she smiled. Anthony felt something shift uncomfortably inside his chest.
"Thank you," she said.
Dessert arrived, but Anthony barely noticed. Because as he looked at Evangeline, it became clear that beneath the beauty everyone noticed first and the kindness that seemed to follow her wherever she went, there was an intelligence many people likely overlooked.