Sleep had not come easy to Eva last night; visions of her husband had filled her head. How long would he stay at Stratton? Would he stay until she had conceived? Did he really want a child?
Her brothers had told her in detail exactly how a man got a woman with child. They had used foul language and descriptions of the act, then told her all she would need to do was lie still until it was over. No husband wanted a wife for any other reason than breeding; anything else was left to his mistress.
What would it feel like to have the duke’s big body lying on top of her? Eva knew it would be painful when he did what had to be done - her brothers had relished telling her that fact - but she also knew that to have a child, she had to do what was necessary.
Veering right, Eva directed Posy onto the path that ran between the trees and urged her over a fallen branch. Splashing through a puddle, they thundered along the shadowed route. Bending low over the mare’s neck, she let her go. Posy knew exactly where they were going and Eva just held on, enjoying the ride. It was exhilarating and she felt the last of the sluggishness from lack of sleep leave her head. Minutes later, breaking free of the trees, Posy headed for the trail that led up the side of the hill. Reaching the top, Eva reined the horse in and walked to where she could see the village below
Smoke puffed from chimneys as slowly the little village roused. Eva imagined families waking and sharing their morning meal. Mothers would be dressing and caring for their children, a routine they took for granted. She would do that one day, care for her own child.
The church spire rose highest and she wondered if Miss Potter’s night attire was as outrageous as her day wear.
Eva thought of Reggie and how he would love to ride over Stratton with her. He was never far from her thoughts and she vowed now the duke was back that she would discuss getting him here where he was safe. She would get him a tutor and then he would go to university as he had always wished to do. She just needed to pick the right moment, one when the duke was in an agreeable mood, preferably.
“If you have no care for yourself, Duchess, then at least care for your mount!”
Eva spun so quickly in the saddle, she tumbled straight off Posy and landed on her bottom. She heard curses as she struggled to draw in the breath that had been knocked from her body.
“Give me your hand.”
Bracing them behind her, Eva ignored the duke and scrambled to her feet. Mortified that she was dressed in breeches and had fallen in front of him, she reached for the saddle, preparing to remount.
“Are you unhurt, Duchess?”
Shaking her head, Eva busied herself with collecting the reins
“Then perhaps you can address my earlier concerns.”
Realizing that ignoring him would incite his anger, Eva reluctantly turned to face her husband. He, too, had dismounted, although she doubted it had been in such a spectacular fashion.
“I have been riding these paths for over two months now, your Grace. Posy was quite safe.”
Dark brows lowered as he scowled down at her. Unlike her, he was once again impeccably dressed in grey breeches, black jacket with polished boots and a neatly tied neckcloth. The only thing not in order was the hair that stood off his head.
“You rode through those trees too fast, madam. There could have been more fallen branches in your path.”
“I would never put Posy in danger, your Grace, and I apologize if you thought otherwise.”
For weeks Eva had lived without the constant knot of anxiety in her stomach that had plagued her most of her life. The fear that at any moment someone would take her to task had been absent and she had reveled in that freedom…until now.
“It was folly for a woman to ride in such a manner.”
She didn’t want to be intimidated by the duke. He would not hurt her. Hadn’t she believed that after the night he visited her room? The words they had spoken then had been open and honest.
“You think a woman is not as competent as a man in the saddle, your Grace?”Be quiet Eva. Don’t antagonize him.
“A woman is not as strong as a man, Duchess, even if she is riding astride.” His eyes ran over her legs as he spoke and her discomfit increased. What must he think of the way she was dressed?
“Strength does not necessarily determine skill, Duke.”
“Are you suggesting you are a more skilled rider than me, Duchess?”
“I would be foolish to suggest such a thing.” Eva reached for her saddle, eager to finish the conversation and head back to Stratton.
“Foolish because I am a man and you know I am more skilled or foolish because I am a man whom you feel threatened by?”
Eva gripped the leather so tightly, her knuckles went white. He was trying to provoke a response from her but she did not want to answer such a loaded question. Putting her foot in the stirrups, she was about to pull herself up when two large hands grabbed her and tossed her onto Posy’s back.
“Accepting defeat, Duchess?”
