“One smooshed sandwich is enough for me, thank you. I truly thought I heard a horse.”
“Perhaps.” Ollie shrugged. “This is an easy enough place to water an animal before heading back to the stableyard.”
My stomach squeezed. Damon had ridden out on Ares this morning. I did not know where he’d gone, but it was certainly possible that he could return this way. I was not ready to see him, but the sound of hooves beating the earth grew ever louder.
I set aside my sandwich, my appetite gone.
“Would you like a piece of fruit?” Ollie asked.
I shook my head, worried my voice would come out shaky. He shrugged and continued eating his own food.
A flash of black appeared on the footpath, and then horse and rider came into view.
Damon.
He sat high in his saddle, his hair windswept and cheeks flushed. He gripped the riding crop, directing Ares down the footpath toward the river. And when he looked up and our eyes met, my heart pounded in my chest, causing an ache that quickly spread through my body.
“So youdidhear a horse,” Ollie said to me, and then gruffly to Damon, “Brother.”
Damon reined Ares to a halt. And as his gaze slid between Ollie and me, taking in our little picnic, his expression darkened. “Pardon me. I did not mean to interrupt.” He tugged Ares’s reins, steering him in the opposite direction of the water.
Ares snorted unhappily but complied.
As soon as they reached the path, Damon kicked the horse’s flanks, and they rode swiftly away. Damon did not look back, but I could not tear my gaze from him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
That night at dinner, Ollieassisted me with my chair.
“Thank you, Ollie,” I said, trying not to let my gaze wander to Damon across from me. But whether I looked at him or not, it really didn’t matter. His presence filled the entire hall.
“The meal you’ve had prepared smells delicious.” Lord Winfield smiled approvingly at his wife.
“Roasted duck with fennel and mint,” Lady Winfield said. “Your favorite in celebration of your return. Thank you for coming home early. The Garretts will appreciate your attendance at their ball.”
“You were right to request it of us,” Lord Winfield said around a bite of food. “No matter how glum Damon was about it.”
“Oh?” Lady Winfield looked at Damon.
I could not help glancing at him too.
He stared at Lord Winfield and gripped his fork with a fierceness more befitting a battlefield than a dinner table.
“I daresay our son met his future wife while we were in London,” Lord Winfield continued when Damon said nothing. “The Duke of Maybeck’s daughter Lady Margaret. He was quite taken with her. They spoke the entirety of the duke’s dinner party and nearly all the way through a performance at the theater.”
Ollie looked at me askance, pity in his eyes.
I trained my gaze on my plate. Damon had met—and spent time with—another woman in London. A duke’s daughter who was no doubt as beautiful as she was wealthy.
Damon’s gaze burned hot upon me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet it.
Had he already known about his father’s failing health when he was flirting with this Lady Margaret? Or had he met her before? Either way, her existence no doubt made Damon’s decision to fall in line with his father’s wishes that he marry a wealthy woman that much easier. But I should not think of things I could not change. Whatever had existed between Damon and me was now over, and it did not serve me to be jealous.
“I would thank you to keep my private affairsprivate,” Damon said in a low voice.
“Marriage is not a private matter,” Lord Winfield said. “It affects the whole family.”
“As you have made me painfully aware,” Damon said.
