Rumors around the manor said that Price refused to give Web any explanation. The day after the brawl, everything seemed normal during breakfast. Everyone ate around the table, discussed their plans for the day as if Price did not struggle to eat with a swollen face. The moment Price walked out of the breakfast room with Gale, those around the table discussed the brawl, but it was only to wager on the reason. Even Simone placed her money on Price having affections for Charity.

After breaking fast, Daniel went to the fields with Harry, Web, and Damon. They discussed rent and poor harvest as they rode their horses. The three men even discussed Price and how odd it was for him to box a man he considered his friend. The matter was dropped as soon as Harry reminded them it was not their business. Daniel tried to ask Harry if he there was a chance that the man may have already found good reasons to suit his sister, but the future earl expertly diverted the conversation to Web's struggles with their shipping lines. He did not try to push the matter again after that, telling himself that Harry may need more time. And Emmeline most definitely did not need the pressure. The only thing he had to do now was be patient and hopeful. And to endure the coming days as they grew more challenging.

He could not count the number of times she would suddenly come into his thoughts. Like a sudden attack of wind on a mild day. Her face would flash with a blink, and her voice with a simple mention of her name. He was certain he could manage to control these attacks as he did before, but it was not likely to happen in Abberton. Back home, he could do that for certain. But not here where everything in the estate reminded him of her, of the stories she shared, of her words and dreams.

When they arrived at the manor for luncheon, Mrs. Keating, the housekeeper, saw them as she crossed the courtyard to get from one side of the manor to the other. "Good. You're back. Would you boys be kind to find Roxie and Freda? I'm sure they're in the woods. I don't want cold food on the table!" she ordered just as she disappeared.

It still surprised Daniel that even Harry, the future earl, would take orders from someone under his employ. He joined the three men into the woods to search for the two youngest Stratfords, careful to not fall into one of the traps.

"Do you even know where to find them?" he asked.

"They're in the cabin," Web replied, pulling him to the side, absently pointing at a potential trap.

"Which one?"

"That one," Damon replied with a tilt of his chin. The cabin was off the path and deftly hidden from view. It looked like someone collected scraps of wood and nailed it together into a box.

"Roxie! Freda! It's time for luncheon!" Web called out as they neared.

"We'll be there!" Freda's voice said from inside the cabin.

Harry sighed and entered, followed by Damon. "Pack up now."

Daniel stepped into the tiny place after Web while Harry and Damon helped the two girls close a giant chest. He wondered why he did not know about this cabin. Simone never told him in her letters.

"Lydia calls it the treasure chest," Web told him, sensing his curiosity. "It contains things that belonged to our parents. Old man's idea." His friend guided him out of the cabin as Roxie and Freda straightened and turned toward the door. "We're sentimental that way, my friend," Web said with a chuckle, playfully pushing Roxie and Freda out the door. "The two of you, straight to the manor."

Damon fell behind as he locked the door, Harry walking up ahead to walk with the girls. "You picked anything that belonged to your parents and placed it in a chest?"

"Yes," Web said with a sigh, digging his hands in his pockets. "You must know it was—is—our biggest loss. Six lives, Daniel. We lost six lives that day. Not counting the hundreds of others who perished with them."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't always have to say that every time the subject comes up," his friend said. "We don't really enjoy hearing those words."

He smiled. "I can say the same."

His friend threw him a gentle smile. "Then we agree."

They walked in silence for a while until they emerged from the woods. "What did you put inside?"

"We never recovered their bodies, so we were only left with what they left behind. I threw in my father's watch and my mother's journals."

He nodded, surprised at the wholesome practice. He had done the same, but he kept something different from his parents. He kept a promise.

As they reached the manor and entered the courtyard, they found Simone in a beautiful white dress, walking around with her hands on her hips and her head bent.

"What are you doing?" Web asked, leaving Daniel's side.

"Is that Charity's dress, Sisi?" Roxie asked, walking over to touch the outer skirt with her hand.

"No touching," Simone warned, stepping back from both girls. "Go clean up first. It's time for luncheon."

The girls obliged, but not without saying the dress was beautiful and she did a good job.

"What do you think?" Simone asked, facing the gentlemen, face radiant and expectant.

"I think you should not be wearing it," Harry commented.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm testing it."

"Should it be white?" asked Damon, walking past his sister with no intent to wait for an answer.

"Charity wanted a white dress."

"It's beautiful if you keep it as it is," Web said, following Damon. "Don't add feathers, please."

"I don't intend to."

"What do you think?" she asked Harry, who was passing by.

"I still think you should not be wearing it," said the man, making Simone purse her lips. "And I think it's beautiful."

Daniel watched her face break into a beautiful smile. As he made his way across the courtyard, she smiled at him expectantly. "Well?" she asked. "What do you think, Your Grace?"

A flock of chickens clucked their way across the courtyard, and Daniel stepped back to let them pass, grabbing the chance to buy some time to think of a safe answer.

Certainly, he could not tell her she should not give it to her friend. It was made for her, he thought. The sheer sleeves glistened in the sunlight, making her glow. The light material of the outer skirt flowed with her movement, like a maiden in a waltz led by a perfect partner.

"It is exquisite," he said. "Charity will be a beautiful bride."

"I know," she said, already stepping away. He did not want her to. She should stay in the courtyard where the light was. "Thank you for your kind words, Your Grace."

He was about to say that he did not say the words simply to be courteous as expected of him, but he noted the sudden change in her face when her eyes landed on something behind him. Her smiling face morphed into a curious one. "Mr. Skelton."

Daniel turned to find Harvey Owen's friend standing awkwardly outside the arched threshold of the courtyard. He was dressed in a brown vest and jacket, dark pants, and high leather boots. His hands fiddled with his hat in front of him as he bowed. "Good afternoon, Your Grace," he greeted, clearing his throat before he offered Simone a small smile. "Miss Priest."

"What brings you here, Mr. Skelton?" Simone asked, gathering the skirts of the dress as she walked closer.

The man blinked at the sight of her. "I'm... well, I was—Are you wearing a wedding dress, Miss Priest?" Skelton asked, glancing in Daniel's direction before returning his gazt to Simone.

Simone's confusion showed on her face. She blinked at Francis Skelton a few times before her eyes rounded and her face flushed. "Oh, no!" She threw a look in Daniel's direction before she broke into a laugh. "Well, yes, I'm wearing a dress," she said, breaking her next statement with a laughter that was just uniquely hers—innocent, raw, and charming. "I'm sorry for laughing," she tried again, clearing her throat, but another chuckle bubbled out of her lips before she finally mastered herself, squaring her shoulders. Daniel wondered then, if she truly found it laughable that someone would assume they were getting married. "I'm wearing a wedding dress, but it's not mine," Simone was saying, her face radiant and flushed with laughter while Francis Skelton smiled, face brightening as he took in Simone's words. Was this man happy to learn he assumed wrongly?

"This is Charity's," Simone was explaining. "She asked me to make her dress for the wedding."

At the mention of the wedding, the smile on Francis Skelton's face disappeared. "I hope your family, most particularly the earl, can forgive my friend for what happened."

"You are not the person to say that, Mr. Skelton. You should not feel sorry." Simone stepped closer to the man and Daniel almost reached out to stop her. She did not know him well enough to break proper social distance. But he stopped himself before he could make a fool of himself. Of course, she would break social decorum. After all, she was a Stratford. "Please, would you care to tell me the purpose of your visit?"

"Y-Yes," the man said, clearing his throat again. "I'm here to see one of your horses."

"One of our horses?"

"Your brother, Mr. Damon, has asked that I look into his horse."

"Is he selling Maple?" she asked, almost in disbelief.

"No, nothing of the sort. He suspects Maple has caught the flu."

Simone frowned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Skelton, but what are you?"

Daniel bit back a smile at Simone's question.

"I'm an animal doctor, Miss Priest," Skelton replied.

"Oh!" Her eyes were round with amazement. "Interesting."

Interesting?

"I'm sure Damon is waiting for you. Please, follow me," she said, turning.

Skelton offered Daniel a slight bow before he dutifully caught up with Simone.

"And while you're at it, would you care to check on my horse, Chestnut? I would like to know if we have an outbreak..."

Daniel watched them walk away, Simone in a wedding dress that was not hers, and Skelton eagerly listening to what she had to say, his gaze staying on the man. Francis Skelton was leaning too close, but who was he to be bothered?

***

Being twenty-five, Simone had learned a few things in life. For one, she should not let anything excite her if she did not want to get disappointed. Learning that Daniel Cavendish did not see her as just one of his many fans in the past was, of course, exciting. He remembered her and her letters. He remembered even the silly details about her. But as a woman almost on the shelf (although she feels far from being one), she should be graceful. That, of course, meant she had to respect his reasons for keeping secrets. If he wanted to make her believe she was just a thing of the past, then she would let him.

So, for now, she should learn more about Daniel Cavendish, the duke.

But that would have to wait because Charity's wedding was happening in three days and that ought to be a priority. The dress had been carefully washed after she wore it the entire day to test if it was durable enough, to which Damon pointed out, saying, "You know that dress will have to be a little less durable, yes, Sisi? For what it has to face after the wedding?" Of course, she knew what he meant. And she knew he was merely exaggerating. Her dress was perfect, and it was ready to survive the wedding night.

"What are your plans for today?" she asked Lydia the next morning at breakfast. Everyone was around the table, save for Price and Gale, who had gone out for a ride and had not yet returned.

"Harry, Emmeline and I are joining Grandpapa for his monthly tea with Lord Rothsport. We would love if you could join us. Now that you're done with the dress, you could spare some time."

Simone shook her head. "I'm afraid I cannot. I have something to do. Perhaps next time."

She looked around the table and met Daniel's gaze. She smiled at him, telling herself he was not the best candidate. She turned to Roxie and Freda, but then stopped, remembering that they had lessons today. Price and Gale were not yet home, Web was preparing to leave for an urgent business in Birth, and Damon was expecting Francis Skelton again for a more thorough check on his horse.

Very well, she would just go on her own, she later thought as everyone went on their way. With Charity's dress in a box she tied with blue ribbon, Simone emerged into the empty courtyard.

She was humming to herself, steps growing excited as she imagined Charity's reaction to the dress. And he appeared before her.

She skidded to a stop and asked, "Are you lost again?"

Daniel shook his head and stared at the box. "Please, allow me to help you with that," he said, already taking it from her.

"But I'm going to the Poppets."

He turned and walked away. "I know." Her eyes narrowed behind him. She was wondering why he was doing this when he added, "If you do not wish for Leroy to see us, we should hurry."

There was so much she wanted to discuss from that one statement alone, but she chose not to. Instead, she hastened her steps to walk beside him, smiling to herself.

They crossed the wide driveway, the lawn, and walked down the street away from Abberton House. Trees lined both sides, their branches arching to the middle of the road, forming a tunnel of leaves and spots of sunlight. When they were younger, when they were bored, or if they were waiting for someone, Simone and her cousins would stay on the side of this very road. Most often, the Poppets would join them.

"How did you know I was going out?" she asked. His face was unreadable, but she also realized that he was less stiff. Maybe Abberton was rubbing off on him, slowly stripping him of his ducal mien. His hair was looser, tucked behind his ears. The shirt beneath his simple coat was tucked haphazardly, and his boots were speckled with mud. "Did the maids tell you?"

"I made the deduction during breakfast," he simply said, face still a little stiff than she would have wanted it. Ah, but he might loosen up after he spent more time here in Abberton, she thought.

"Thank you," she said, "but you did not have to."

He met her gaze before he looked ahead again. "I know." He cleared his throat. "I had nothing to do."

"I will join Lydia and Emmeline more often from this day on, I believe," she said. "Perhaps you should, too."

"That will depend on Harry's plans," he said. "I would rather he spends more time with my sister.

"Of course." She threw him a quick smile. "This walk must be boring for you."

"No, not really."

"Of course, it is," she said, stopping. "Because it's short," she finished with a chuckle, pointing at the house to their right. "We're here."

He looked down the path they took and then at the house. "They practically live next door."

Grinning, she said, "We should hurry, Your Grace. Before the rain comes."

He looked up. "I don't think it's going to rain."

"It is," she said with certainty as she knocked on the door. "I can smell it in the air."

The door opened and a young lady of fourteen, with the same red hair as her sisters, greeted them with a look of someone who had been dragged to church in the wee hours of the morning.

"Hello, Dorothy," Simone greeted the youngest of the Poppet sisters. "I'm here to deliver Charity's dress."

"Who is it?" came Mrs. Poppet's voice before she, too, appeared in the doorway, her face filled with concern. "Oh, Simone," the woman said, reaching out to hold Simone's hand.

"Mrs. Poppet," she said, "What happened?"

"It's Charity!" the woman sniffled, grip growing tighter.

Simone exchanged a frown with Daniel before facing Mrs. Poppet again. "What happened to Charity?"

"She no longer wishes to marry Harvey," Dorothy wryly said, as if she found the entire situation boring. Unlike her mother, she looked perfectly calm.

The information did not travel fast enough, and when they did, the wrinkle between Simone's eyes deepened. Charity was very much in love with Harvey. Why would she change her mind?

"Charity ran away," Mrs. Poppet choked out.

"What?"

"No, she did not. Not really," Dorothy said with a roll of her eyes.

"Where is she going?"

"We are hoping you could tell us."

"Why?"

Dorothy shrugged. "She ran away with Price and Gale's help."