The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Nathaniel's Study - Afternoon

The heels of Lady Juliana's boots clacked excitedly against the marble steps as she nearly dragged Evelyn up the staircase, their skirts swishing in haste. "Come on, come on!" she whispered urgently, eyes gleaming.

"If I don't catch him before he buries himself in maps and letters again, we'll never get an answer."

Evelyn clutched her skirts to keep up, trying not to laugh. "Juliana, slow down..."

"No time!" Juliana whispered conspiratorially. "Once he starts with those boring county reports, he forgets the world exists."

They reached the door of the Duke's study, and without knocking of course, Juliana flung it open.

Inside, Nathaniel Wycliffe sat behind the grand mahogany desk, quill in hand, a half-written letter before him. His sharp gaze flicked up at the sudden intrusion, unreadable as always. He was still dressed in his riding attire from earlier, deep navy waistcoat unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled just slightly, revealing forearms inked faintly with scars and callouses evidence of someone more acquainted with war than writing.

"Juliana," he said in his low, even tone. "You're meant to knock."

"I did... in spirit," she quipped, already halfway across the room.

He exhaled slowly and set his quill aside. "What is it?"

"I want to go to the Harvest Festival!" she announced, clasping her hands dramatically before her chest. "And I want sister-in-law to come with me!"

Nathaniel's gaze shifted to Evelyn, who remained at the door, hesitant. He studied her for a moment; his wife, standing silent but curious, her eyes alight with interest. Then he returned his attention to Juliana.

"No."

Juliana froze mid-step. "No?"

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair. "It's not safe."

"Oh, please," Juliana groaned, flopping into the armchair across from his desk. "You always say that. Nothing ever happens. It's a festival, not a battlefield."

He arched an eyebrow. "Crowds, strangers, wine, and excitement...."

"Exactly!" she grinned. "It'll be good for Evelyn too. She's barely seen anything outside this manor since arriving."

At that, Evelyn blinked. "Juliana..."

"No," Nathaniel repeated, but slower this time, as if expecting the argument.

"Oh, come on, Nathaniel!" she whined, dropping her hands to her sides. "You went when we were children. We used to love it!"

"That was before," he said coolly, returning to his papers. "Circumstances have changed."

"But it's tradition," Juliana pressed, stepping closer, now clutching the edge of his desk with both hands. "The people expect to see their Duke and Duchess. You want Evelyn to be accepted, don't you?"

Nathaniel lifted his eyes. "That's not the issue."

Juliana tilted her head and then, with zero shame, pouted. Lower lip out, lashes fluttering, hands clasped again in a mock-prayer. "Please? Please? Please? I swear I'll stay glued to sister-in-law's side the whole time. I'll even behave. No sneaking off. No drinking..."

Nathaniel gave her a flat look.

"Well, less drinking," she amended with a sheepish grin.

Evelyn, watching from near the door, stifled a laugh. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen someone speak to the Duke like that before.

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, clearly trying to summon every ounce of patience he possessed. "You are no longer a child. Stop acting like one."

"And you are my big brother," she said, voice softening, "but sometimes I think the old Nathaniel is gone."

That stopped him.

"Nathaniel, please. Just this once. I'll wear the dullest gown. I'll behave. Evelyn will be with me. You can assign guards. Just don't say no before even thinking about it." Juliana continued, pleading.

There was a long silence. The Duke's gaze dropped to the parchment before him, then to the small silver signet ring at the corner of his desk, as if weighing risks in his mind like stones on a scale.

Juliana pressed her palms together, eyes round and pleading. "Pretty please?"

For a long moment, he said nothing, his cold expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he set down his quill and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Juliana grinned. She had won.

"Fine."

Her squeal echoed through the study before he even finished the word. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped up, dashed around the desk, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "You won't regret it!"

He blinked, expression exasperated but not displeased.

Juliana turned to Evelyn with a triumphant wink. "Start thinking about what you'll wear!"

As she passed her, she grabbed Evelyn's hand and squeezed it tightly. "It's going to be so much fun! We'll dance, and drink, and..."

"Juliana," Nathaniel warned.

She giggled. "Drink grape juice, obviously!"

With that, she swept out of the study like a gust of wind.

Silence settled again.

Evelyn lingered behind, still smiling faintly as she turned to look at Nathaniel. He hadn't returned to his ledger. Instead, he sat in silence, staring at the door his sister had vanished through.

"You're kinder than you pretend to be," she said softly.

Nathaniel's eyes flicked to her. "Don't start."

She only smiled more and dipped her head politely. "I'll begin thinking about what to wear."

Evelyn stepped further inside, the door closing quietly behind her. Nathaniel was already reaching for his quill, but paused when she didn't leave.

"You didn't protest the plan," he murmured without looking up.

"I didn't want to interrupt," she said softly, then moved to sit in the now-vacant chair across from him.

He looked at her now. Really looked. Her skin glowed from the walk outside, her eyes vibrant with life in a way he rarely saw.

"She's right, you know," Evelyn added after a moment, folding her hands in her lap. "It'll be good for me."

He set the quill down again. His dark eyes flicked once to her necklace, his necklace glinting against the hollow of her throat.

"Then I'll make sure it's well guarded," he said. "I'll ride with you both."

"You'll come?" she asked, surprised.

He paused again. "If you're going," he said lowly, "I won't be elsewhere."

Their eyes met across the desk. The silence between them wasn't cold it simmered, like something left just under boil. Evelyn said nothing, but her lips curved slightly.

Nathaniel returned to his work, but she didn't leave. Not yet.