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Their relationship had finally moved from a dead spot, and this had to happen!

She took off her shift, and sure enough, there was a bloody spot on the skirt. “Blast.”

Her eyes burned from unshed tears, and she took a deep breath. At least, now she had the evidence Rhys had desired all along.

She performed the necessary ablutions, fashioned some layers with strips of cloth between her legs, and leaned her back against the wall. How was she to face him after this embarrassing incident?

“Is everything well?” Rhys’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Tears of frustration sprung to Isabel’s eyes. She was always slightly more emotional during her courses, but she couldn’t really blame her nerves after what had happened just now.

“Isabel, I–I did not mean to upset you—”

Isabel bit her lip. How far would this incident set their relationship back? What should she tell him? Did married people even discuss such affairs? She threw a clean shift back on and went back to her room.

Rhys paced the length of a carpet like a caged beast. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking distraught and confused.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he said as she came closer. “Perhaps I was too forward, and I shouldn’t have.”

Isabel raised a staying hand. “Rhys?”

He stopped, his breathing still accelerated, and waited for her to speak.

“Do you remember when you demanded the evidence of me not being in a delicate condition before we could consummate the marriage?” She pursed her lips so as not to laugh.

Rhys winced. “I know. I’ve been an arse—”

Isabel let out a chuckle, and he blinked, halting mid-sentence. “Yes, you were, but it’s not that. It’s just that you have your evidence.”

He ran his gaze down her body, then back to her eye level, still looking confused.

Isabel bit on her lip, still holding on to her laughter. “My courses started, Rhys. I’m sorry.”

Chapter 22

Rhys entered Millicent’s room early in the morning. He couldn’t leave without seeing her and talking with her. She was still sleeping, but as Rhys sat by her bed, she stirred and rubbed her eyes.

She blinked, her lashes fluttering. “Papa,” she whispered, her voice slightly rough from sleep.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

She nodded and stretched in bed. “Are we going to the fields today?”

Rhys caressed her warm, red cheek. “Not today, moppet. I am leaving for Thornsby today.”

Millicent puffed out her lips. “Without me?”

“Without you. But I have a lot of work to do, so I can’t take you with me. Besides, you need to keep up with your studies.”

“I don’t like my studies,” Millie grumbled. “And I don’t like Mrs. Pemberley. When I grow up, I will make it so girls won’t need governesses.”

Rhys heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Someday, you’ll change the world, my little girl. You’ll be a force to be reckoned with. But until then, you need to know things. Because knowledge is your biggest weapon.”

Millie seemed to contemplate his words. “Why can’t I learn from Lady Isabel instead of Mrs. Pemberley? I like Lady Isabel better.”

Rhys smiled, his heart warming. “I am glad you like her, moppet. But remember, you disliked her, too, at first? Perhaps you can give Mrs. Pemberley a chance.”

Millie furrowed her little brows. “When will you come back?”