"I think we are done here. Let's go," Jenna said and held my hand. She stopped abruptly, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"I don't think this is appropriate for your journey. You should wear something more comfortable and grab a shawl."
Natalie nodded and quickly went to fetch a simpler dress for the journey. She made her way to the wooden chest and opened it.
Her fingers brushed against the soft folds of a sage-green dress, and she pulled it out. It was plain but well-made, fashioned from a lightweight wool that was both warm and breathable. The cut was looser, allowing her to move with ease, and the neckline was modest, with a row of small wooden buttons that fastened up to her collarbone. The hem fell just above her ankles, and without the burden of extra layers.
After changing, she grabbed a dark grey shawl, it was thick and warm with a few patches. She wrapped it snugly around her shoulders, the fringed ends swaying slightly as she adjusted it for warmth.
She turned to where Jenna waited, her friend's approving smile easing some of the tension in her chest.
"Much better," Jenna said, giving her a quick once-over before linking their arms.
"Come, then. We must leave at once before the Duke storms here himself."
Together, Jenna and Natalie walked down the stairs and headed towards the main courtyard. Jenna helped her with the satchel while keeping her hands gently clasped. The courtyard was bustling with activity as Jenna and Natalie made their way through the cobblestone.
The carriage was imposing—a rich mahogany structure with ornate golden trims, pulled by two imposing black stallions, their muscular forms exuding raw power. The horses pawed at the ground, their breaths visible in the crisp morning air, while the carriage wheels gleamed from a fresh oiling. The duke's crest was embedded on the doors.
Near the carriage, the Duke stood tall, his presence dominating the space. His voice cut sharply through the courtyard, issuing commands to a young maid who scurried toward the servants' quarters, her skirts swishing as she went. But she froze mid-step when her eyes landed on Natalie, her face pale and uncertain.
The Duke turned to snap at the girl again, his words poised on the edge of a shout. Instead, his gaze found Natalie. His grey eyes locked onto hers, and she felt a heat of rage surge through her body, quick and sharp like the strike of a match. She averted her eyes almost immediately, her pulse quickening. Control yourself, she warned silently, though every fiber of her being screamed to let him have a piece of her mind. He deserved it—but voicing her anger would only worsen her situation.
The Duke's glare bore into her, his eyes never leaving her face as she approached. Natalie dipped into a shallow curtsy when she reached him.
"What took you so long? I've been standing here for hours," he snapped, his tone laced with impatience.
Natalie drew a steadying breath. "I was packing. Forgive me for the delay, Your Grace."
"Whatever. We are already behind schedule. Come."
Without another word, he turned and stepped into the carriage, his long coat brushing against the doorframe. He left the door wide open, the gesture as dismissive as his tone.
Jenna handed Natalie's satchel to the waiting footman, who hoisted it up with ease and passed it to the coachman. Natalie's stomach twisted with bitter amusement. Of course, my luggage isn't fit to share space with the Duke's precious belongings, she thought.
Jenna turned to her and wrapped her arms around Natalie in a warm, desperate embrace.
"I'll miss you. I can't believe you'll be away from almost a year."
The words struck Natalie like a sudden gust of wind. She hadn't fully grasped the reality of what was ahead—a year away from everything she knew. Her chest tightened, and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She clung to Jenna, trying to draw strength from her friend's steady presence.
"I'll miss you too," she whispered, her voice thick.
The Duke's voice cut through the moment like a whip. "What are you standing there for? We don't have all day!"
Natalie exhaled sharply and stepped back from Jenna. "Please, tell my father where I am. Let him know not to worry. "
"I promise I will," Jenna said, her voice trembling.
Natalie hurried to the carriage, her skirts swishing around her ankles. The footman stepped forward and offered his hand, helping her climb inside. The heavy door closed behind her with a resounding thud, sealing her in.
The interior of the carriage was unlike anything Natalie had ever seen. The plush upholstery, a rich cream-colored velvet, seemed absurdly impractical yet utterly luxurious. It glowed softly in the faint light of a tiny carriage lamp, its silk-fringed cushions arranged with care. The bench opposite her bore small, perfectly fluffed pillows, clearly intended for comfort during long journeys. Everything about the space spoke of wealth and privilege, an opulence that felt foreign to her.
Beside her, the Duke sat with an air of indifference. His dark, wavy hair was slightly disheveled from the wind, and the sharp planes of his face were softened in the dim light. He stared out the window, his expression unreadable.
Natalie turned her gaze toward her own window, trying to drown out her simmering irritation. The familiar landscape of the estate blurred past, giving way to rolling fields and dense patches of trees. As the scenery grew increasingly unfamiliar, a knot formed in her stomach.
The silence between them was broken by the loud, unmistakable growl of her stomach. Natalie flushed deeply, her hands pressing against her midsection as though to silence the offending sound.
The Duke turned his gaze toward her, irritation flashing in his grey eyes. "What now?"
"Nothing, Your Grace," she replied quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes narrowed, dark and piercing. "Do not waste my time with evasions. Speak."
Natalie hesitated. "I… I did not have breakfast," she admitted.
He frowned deeply, the lines of his face hardening. "Breakfast is served at five for the servants. What do you mean you did not have it. Was there a problem? Is that a normal occurrence?
She swallowed hard. "I did not go down for breakfast."
His expression turned to one of irritation. "Let me guess—you overslept. You missed breakfast because of your own lack of discipline. Rules exist for a reason, and failure to follow them has consequences. Deal with the results of your laziness."
Her jaw clenched, but she forced herself to remain silent. Her fingers dug into the soft velvet of the seat. Today was my day off, she thought bitterly. But she knew any attempt at explanation would only draw more of his derision.
Her stomach betrayed her again with a loud growl, and this time, she couldn't stifle the flush that spread across her cheeks. She folded her arms tightly across her abdomen, willing the sound to stop.
The carriage jolted over a rut in the road, and her stomach growled again. Each sound made her cringe, half expecting him to toss her out for the inconvenience.
"For heaven's sake," he muttered, reaching for a small basket beside him. The woven leather container had gone unnoticed until now, its contents hidden under a crisp napkin. He unwrapped it briskly, revealing neatly folded loaves of bread.
"Here. Take this."
He thrust the bread toward her, Natalie stiffened, her pride urging her to refuse the offering, but the gnawing emptiness in her stomach won out. She accepted it without hesitation, murmuring a quick, "Thank you, Your Grace."
The aroma of the fresh bread hit her instantly, sharp and inviting. Her hunger surged, overwhelming her irritation. She took a bite, savoring the soft, warm texture against her tongue. She devoured it quickly, barely pausing to breathe.
He brought out a small glass and a flask from a crystal decanter stowed beneath his seat.
The Duke poured her a glass of juice from a flask, his movements precise and unhurried. He handed it to her, his gaze flicking over her briefly before returning to his book.
"Better now?" he asked curtly.
"Yes, thank you, Your Grace," she replied, her voice small.
The Duke donned his reading glasses and opened his book, leaving her to sit in silence. The rhythmic sway of the carriage lulled her, though the occasional jolt over uneven roads kept her nerves on edge. Outside, the once bright landscape had faded into darkness, the trees casting eerie, shifting shadows in the moonlight.
She shivered, drawing her shawl closer. The sound of rustling leaves and distant animal calls made her uneasy. Her gaze darted to the Duke, who appeared completely unbothered, his attention fixed on his book.
"Close the damn window," he ordered without looking up. "It's late, and the cold air is seeping in."
She obeyed without protest, shutting the window and drawing the heavy curtains closed. The carriage felt even smaller now, the walls pressing in on her. The Duke's presence seemed to fill the space.
"Light the other lamp," he added curtly. "You mustn't be told everything. I prefer not to sit in near darkness."
Natalie fumbled with the matches, her hands trembling slightly. She could feel his frustration with her actions. She managed to light the second lamp, its warm glow illuminating the carriage more fully. The light caught the faint glint of his signet ring and the smooth line of his tailored coat. Despite her annoyance, she couldn't deny he carried himself with an air of authority that was difficult to ignore.
As the hours dragged on, sleep began to tug at her. She glanced at the Duke, who had set his book aside and reclined against one of the cushions, his head resting on a pillow. His breathing was even, his sharp features softened in repose.
She hesitated, uncertain if she should allow herself the same comfort. But exhaustion soon won, and she leaned back against the seat. The gentle swaying of the carriage, combined with the low hum of the wheels on the road, lulled her into a restless sleep.