The Duke of Barrington stood, his arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes sharp and observant. His gaze landed on Matthew, hardened for a moment, but when it shifted, he found Natalie.
His eyes ran over her form, examining the way she stood and the way her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. His gaze then shifted onto her hair, noticing some leaves clinging to it, with strands falling loose and sticking to her skin—a silent testimony to what had just happened in the forest. He was both angry and irritated. He had been worried when he returned to the carriage after stepping away for a brief respite, only to find the maid absent. He had gone to the coach to ask the coachman of her whereabouts, but it too was empty.
Alarm bells had rung in his mind. His instincts churned with unpleasant possibilities, each more unsavory than the last. The maid was a petite girl and could easily be subdued.
He had set off into the woods. He strained his ears, listening for anything—a cry for help, a sound of struggle. Instead, he had heard the unmistakable murmur of voices.
Then he had found them, stepping out from the forest as though they hadn't a care in the world. The maid's golden hair was tousled, the strands clinging to her flushed cheeks, while the coachman walked beside her with a smug, almost triumphant air. He was immediately filled with anger. He felt like a fool for barging into the forest to play hero.
His gaze returned to her eyes.
Natalie tensed under the weight of the Duke's gaze, her heart thrumming in her chest. She could feel the anger stemming from the Duke. She immediately became self-conscious. It was a rare sight, seeing the Duke angry.
Without thinking, she ran her fingers through her hair and noticed leaves clinging to it. She hastily removed the few leaves still stuck there.
The gesture was not lost on the Duke. The slight twitch in her hands, the hurried way she flicked the leaves off—it only confirmed what he had already suspected. Not that he was jealous or anything, but he couldn't understand why the coachman. She could have tried with him at least. The coachman was old enough to be her father. He was obviously a better choice than the coachman. He had never made advances towards her because she had seemed too uptight. That was obviously just a façade, seeing how fast it took the coachman to achieve this with her.
He took a step forward, his movement slow and calculated, as he moved closer to them, his expression unreadable.
Abruptly, he looked away, his attention shifting to Matthew.
"Where have you two been?"
"We went for a walk," Matthew said. Natalie glanced at him. She didn't understand why he would lie.
"What business did you two have going on a walk?"
Matthew didn't flinch under the sudden hostility in the Duke's tone. If anything, he looked almost amused.
"No business. Miss Natalie wanted to be escorted on her walk, Your Grace," he responded smoothly.
The Duke's gaze narrowed on Matthew, the irritation in his eyes unmistakable. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he spoke.
"Your job is to drive the carriage, not to play nursemaid."
Matthew didn't respond, his expression neutral.
The Duke continued, his voice growing more irritated. "You were given specific instructions. You are to remain with the carriage at all times and never allow any distraction. I expect those instructions to be followed. Am I understood?"
"Yes, clear enough," Matthew agreed, his voice flat.
The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent battle of wills. The Duke's face darkened at Matthew's response, his jaw clenched tight.
Natalie could feel the anger bristling from the Duke, and she silently willed them both to keep their tempers.
"You can leave. Go and stay with the carriage."
Matthew started walking towards the carriage. Natalie made to follow him, but the Duke's voice stopped her.
"Not you."
Natalie stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned to look at the Duke.
His voice was cold and commanding as he spoke, his eyes on Natalie.
"Come here."
Every fiber of Natalie's being begged her to resist the command, to refuse to obey the order. But something in the Duke's gaze, or perhaps the sheer force of his personality, made her comply almost against her will.
She took a hesitant step forward, her head bowed, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze. "Yes, Your Grace?"
"What were you two doing?" His voice was deep, tinged with a dark edge that made her shiver.
Natalie swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest.
"I... I just needed a moment alone, Your Grace," she managed to stutter out, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Matthew was just escorting me."
The Duke's gaze hardened at her response, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face.
"Just escorting you, huh?"
His eyes scanned her flushed face, the faint tremble in her hands, the way she avoided his gaze. Everything about her was a telling sign, despite her efforts to appear calm. He knew he was right. Well, if she wanted to act like a whore, she could at least try to attract a bigger catch.
Natalie's breath caught in her throat as the Duke leaned in closer, her heart thudding so loudly she thought he could surely hear it. His proximity was overwhelming, his presence almost crushing in its intensity.
"Yes," she answered weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... escorting."
"Oh? And that's all, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
He took another step forward, towering over her so that she was forced to look up at him. His eyes scanned her face again, taking in the slight tremors of her body, the way her breath hitched.
Natalie fought the urge to step back, to put space between herself and the Duke. She could feel the heat from his body, his scent of musk and leather and sweat filling her nostrils.
"Yes," she repeated, her voice faltering. "We were just talking."
"Is that so? Just talking?" He leaned in even closer, his proximity making her flush deeper. "And what about your little flushed face and trembling hands? Are those just a coincidence too?"
He took another step forward, trapping her between himself and the tree, towering over her like a lion over its prey.
Natalie gasped as the Duke stepped closer, her back pressed against the rough bark of the tree. She could feel his heat, his presence surrounding her like a palpable force.
"I... it's just hot," she protested, her voice shaking. "And I... I'm just tired, that's all."
"Hot. In the middle of a rainforest. Interesting."
The Duke turned on his heels and made his way to the carriage.