Rachel hesitated, unsure how to phrase her question without sounding absurd.
“I hope I did not disrupt anything important.”
“Of course not, Your Grace,” she said immediately. “What is it that you require?”
At least someone in this house wanted to see her.
“I wished to ask you something,” she admitted, stepping further into the room.
Agnes gestured toward the chair across from her desk, and Rachel sat, smoothing the fabric of her gown.
“Has the duke always been this way?” she asked finally.
Agnes raised a brow. “What way, Your Grace?”
Rachel exhaled softly, knowing how strange the question must have sounded. “I mean to say, well… does he often leave the estate?”
Agnes regarded her carefully. “His Grace does not leave unless he must,” she answered. “He has always preferred to keep his affairs in order from here, rather than travel unnecessarily. If visits are required, they come to him.”
That was not what she had hoped to hear.
Then why is he leaving now?
She knew the answer before she could even form the thought fully.
Because ofher.
The realization settled in her chest like a weight.
Simon was not a man prone to sentiment. He had never pretended to be. And yet, Rachel had hoped that their moments together had affected him in some way. That she had affected him as he had affected her.
Rachel’s gaze dropped to her hands, fingers lightly tracing the ridges of the wooden armrest. Her shoulders slumped as her own spirit deflated.
Agnes noticed the shift immediately. “Your Grace?” she prompted gently. “I do not wish to impose, but is something wrong?”
Oh, Agnes. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
“No. Nothing is wrong. I am only…” she said instead, choosing her words carefully. “Adjusting to marriage.”
Agnes gave a knowing hum, folding her hands in front of her.
“It can be quite an adjustment,” she agreed. “Especially when two people do not yet understand one another.”
Rachel lifted her gaze. “And if theydounderstand each other?”
“Then it is a matter ofacceptingone another.”
“And what if…” She hesitated, then sighed. “What if one does not know what the other wants?”
Agnes smiled softly. “Then they must ask.”
Rachel let out a breathy laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Because itissimple,” Agnes said warmly. “What is not simple is allowing oneself to hear the answer.”
Rachel’s fingers curled in her lap.Ask him?The idea was as daunting as it was tempting.
It was no simple thing—not with all his rules and the evasiveness of his answers.
