“I may.”
“And if you do?”
“I will say so.”
That seemed to satisfy him. The carriage rolled on. Outside the window, London thinned into broader roads and open stretches of land. The noise of the city softened. She watched his reflection in the glass rather than his face directly.
“It is all over now, at least,” he chuckled. “We may retreat into our solitude, away from the eyes of society.”
She turned toward him fully, one eyebrow arched.
“You sound certain of that.”
“Society grows bored quickly.”
A quiet followed, not strained but careful. She had imagined this ride once, and it had looked different in her mind. There had been anticipation. There had been uncertainty of a softer kind.
Now there was clarity and little else. He leaned forward slightly as the carriage slowed.
“We are nearly there.”
The estate rose into view beyond the trees, stone warmed by late afternoon light. It was not the modest house on the outskirts of London, that much was evident.
The carriage halted, a line of servants stood waiting on the steps as they descended. Their bows were precise, their expressions neutral.
“Welcome home, Your Grace,” said the butler.
Home. The word felt distant, even though that was precisely what it now was to her.
Nathaniel offered her his arm, and she accepted. He began to show her the household, before she reminded him that their housekeeper would be showing her it the following day. Even so, she could not help but admire the marble floors, the high ceilings, the portraits of generations past observing their arrival.
“This way,” he said gently. “Let me at least show you to your rooms.”
He did not rush her. He did not touch her beyond what guidance required.
He did not need to.
They ascended the grand staircase. He led her down a corridor bathed in late light and stopped before a set of double doors.
“These have been prepared for you,” he said.
He opened them. The chamber beyond was beautiful, spacious yet warm. A wide bed draped in pale fabric sat against a wall, a fireplace already lit despite the mild evening. Fresh flowers rested in a porcelain vase.
It was all unmistakably hers.
“No expense was spared,” he said quietly. “Of course, you may alter anything that displeases you.”
She stepped inside slowly, taking in the detail.
“This will ensure your comfort,” he continued. “And your privacy.”
She turned back toward him.
“Our arrangement remains as promised,” he said calmly. “Separate chambers. No intrusion unless invited. You will have full authority over your own space.”
His tone was steady, composed, almost formal.
“You need not fear expectations,” he added. “If you require anything, Mrs. Hill will attend to you.”
