“I am.”
His response was as useful as her not having asked in the first place. Curt, giving away no more information than necessary.
She wanted to ask. She could feel the question burning on her lips, desperate to escape.
Where are you going?
By the way he was looking at her now, it appeared that Simon expected it, too.His gaze bore into hers patiently as the silence between them continued to stretch on.
She wanted to ask him, she really did. But the memory of his rule echoed in her mind, a quiet warning against crossing a line that he had drawn from the very beginning.
So instead, she said nothing.
A flicker of something crossed Simon’s face.Disappointment or relief? She could not tell.
His lips pressed together, his gaze lingering on her for just a beat longer than necessary. Then, without a word, he reached for the reins of his horse and pulled himself into the saddle.
Rachel remained rooted to the ground, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.
“Will you return before nightfall?” shefinally asked, surprising herself.
This isn’t breaking the rules. Is it?It was not asking himwhere,but only when he would return.
Simon stilled, his back straightening slightly as he looked down at her from his seat. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then?—
“No.”
Her chest tightened, regretting the question immediately.
He did not elaborate. Did not offer any assurance of when hewouldreturn, if at all, that evening.
She nodded then, keeping her expression neutral, she said, “Then I shall see you whenever I do.”
Something in his gaze sharpened.
For a fleeting moment, she thought he might say something else. Might explain, anything to rid her of the growing unease inside her heart.
But then his grip tightened on the reins, and the moment was lost.
“Rachel.”
Her breath caught at the sound of her name on his lips.
But it was only that. Just her name. No further words.
And then he was gone, his horse kicking up dust as he rode through the gates and disappeared down the road.
Rachel did not move until the sound of hooves against gravel faded into the distance.
And then once again, she was alone.
When she returned inside again, instead of returning to her rooms, she found herself making her way through the halls in search of company.
Agnes.
She found the older woman in the servant’s wing, standing over a large wooden desk littered with household records.
“Your Grace,” she greeted warmly as Rachel entered, dipping into a slight curtsy. “What brings you here?”
