Felicity woke to sunlight streaming through the tall windows of her chamber, a luxury she hadn't experienced in years. At Ashworth Manor, she had been expected to rise before dawn to begin her daily tasks. Here, it seemed, she was allowed the indulgence of sleeping until her body naturally woke.A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, sitting up against the silk pillows.Annie entered carrying a silver tray laden with tea, fresh pastries, and what appeared to be a single white rose in a crystal vase. The young maid's face was bright with excitement."Good morning, my lady! His lordship thought you might enjoy breaking your fast in your chambers this morning." Annie set the tray on the small table near the window and began pulling back the heavy curtains. "He's already gone out for his morning ride, but he left instructions that you should feel free to explore the house and grounds today."Felicity accepted the cup of tea Annie offered her, inhaling the fragrant steam. "He rides every morning?""Oh yes, my lady. His lordship is an excellent horseman. He keeps the finest stables in all of Yorkshire." Annie's eyes sparkled with gossip. "The grooms say he rides like the devil himself is chasing him. Very intense, if you know what I mean."Felicity sipped her tea, wondering what demons drove Adrian to such fierce morning rides. "Annie, may I ask you something?""Of course, my lady.""How long have you worked here at Blackwood Manor?""Nearly four years now, my lady. I started just before his lordship's... well, before his accident." Annie's expression grew more serious. "We were all so worried about him afterward. He changed so much, became so withdrawn.""Changed how?"Annie glanced toward the door, then leaned closer conspiratorially. "Before the fire, his lordship was quite social. Always hosting parties, attending balls in London. Very charming with the ladies, if you don't mind me saying. But after..." She shook her head sadly. "He barely left his study for months. Wouldn't see visitors, wouldn't go to town. We all thought it was because of his injuries, you see."Felicity set down her teacup with deliberate care. "Annie, have you ever actually seen his lordship's scars?"The young maid blinked in surprise. "Well, no, my lady. None of us have. He's very private about such things, always wears high collars and long sleeves. But the doctor who attended him said they were quite severe.""What doctor?""Dr. Whitmore, my lady. He's the one who told us how bad the damage was, said his lordship might never walk properly again." Annie's brow furrowed. "Though he does seem to be getting about much better lately. Almost like his old self, in some ways."Whitmore. The name sent a chill down Felicity's spine. Marcus Whitmore—the man Adrian had mentioned as her father's partner in the scheme against his family. It couldn't be a coincidence."Annie, is Dr. Whitmore still his lordship's physician?""Oh no, my lady. His lordship dismissed him about two years ago. Said he preferred to manage his condition privately." Annie began tidying the room, seemingly unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped. "Will you be wanting to dress for riding today? His lordship had several habits made for you."Felicity's mind was racing, but she managed to nod. "Yes, I think I'd like to see the grounds."An hour later, dressed in a perfectly fitted riding habit of forest green wool, Felicity made her way to the stables. The morning air was crisp and sweet, filled with the scent of roses and fresh grass. The contrast to the smoky, industrial smell that had always hung over Ashworth Manor was striking.The head groom, a weathered man named Peters, greeted her with obvious approval. "Your ladyship has an excellent seat," he commented as he helped her mount a gentle chestnut mare named Rosalind. "Been riding long?""Since I was a child," Felicity replied, settling into the sidesaddle with familiar ease. "Though not much in recent years.""Well, Rosalind here will take good care of you. She's gentle as a lamb but spirited enough to give you a proper ride."As Felicity guided the mare through the manor's extensive grounds, she found herself genuinely impressed by the beauty of the estate. Rolling green pastures stretched toward distant hills, dotted with ancient oak trees and crossed by meandering stone walls. The gardens near the house were immaculately maintained, with formal parterres giving way to more naturalistic plantings that seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding countryside.It was while admiring a particularly beautiful grove of birch trees that she spotted him.Adrian sat motionless on a magnificent black stallion at the crest of a nearby hill, his dark hair ruffled by the morning breeze. Even at a distance, she could see the tension in his posture, the way he held himself like a man carrying an enormous weight.Before she could decide whether to approach or retreat, he noticed her. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other across the green expanse, two figures frozen in the morning landscape like characters in a painting.Then Adrian urged his horse down the hill toward her, and Felicity's breath caught at the sight of him. In riding clothes, with his hair disheveled and his cheeks touched by the wind, he looked less like the calculating businessman from yesterday and more like a romantic hero from one of the novels she had read in secret."Good morning, Lady Blackwood," he said as he drew near. "I see Peters found you a suitable mount.""She's lovely," Felicity replied, patting Rosalind's neck. "The entire estate is beautiful. You must be very proud of it."Something flickered across Adrian's features. "My father loved this land. He used to say that a man could measure his worth by how well he cared for what was entrusted to him.""And do you feel you've measured up to his standards?"Adrian's gray eyes met hers, and she saw pain there—old pain, carefully hidden but not entirely healed. "That remains to be seen."They rode in companionable silence for several minutes, following a path that wound through a particularly lovely section of woodland. Felicity found herself stealing glances at her husband, trying to reconcile the different versions of him she had encountered: the vengeful plotter, the considerate host, the wounded son still seeking his father's approval."Adrian," she said finally, "may I ask you something?""Of course.""Dr. Whitmore—the physician who treated your supposed injuries—is he related to Marcus Whitmore?"Adrian's hands tightened almost imperceptibly on his reins. "His son. Why do you ask?""It seems rather convenient that the son of your father's business partner would be the one to confirm your injuries to your staff."A slow smile spread across Adrian's face, and Felicity felt her pulse quicken at the approval in his eyes. "Very astute, Lady Blackwood. Yes, Dr. Edmund Whitmore was quite helpful in establishing the extent of my... condition. For a considerable fee, of course.""So he was complicit in your deception.""He was motivated by greed and his father's guilt. Marcus Whitmore spent his final years trying to make amends for what he had done to my family. When his son came to me with an offer to help in any way he could, I decided to put his medical credentials to good use."Felicity absorbed this information, another piece of the complex puzzle that was her husband. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?""I've tried to." Adrian brought his horse closer to hers, close enough that their legs nearly touched. "But I must confess, there's one element of my plan that I hadn't fully considered.""What's that?"His gray eyes held hers captive, and when he spoke, his voice was low and intimate. "I hadn't anticipated how much I would enjoy your company."The words sent heat rushing through Felicity's veins. She looked away, flustered by the intensity of his gaze and her own unexpected reaction to it."That's very kind of you to say.""It's not kindness, Felicity. It's honesty." The use of her given name made her look back at him in surprise. "You intrigue me. Last night at dinner, this morning's conversation—you're not what I expected.""What did you expect?""A victim. Someone broken by years of mistreatment, grateful for rescue but ultimately passive." His horse shifted restlessly, sensing his rider's tension. "Instead, I find myself married to a woman who questions everything, who sees through deceptions, who challenges me at every turn.""Is that a problem?"Adrian's smile was enigmatic. "On the contrary, Lady Blackwood. I'm beginning to think it might be exactly what I need."Before Felicity could ask what he meant by that cryptic statement, he spurred his horse forward, calling over his shoulder, "Race you back to the stables!"As she urged Rosalind into a gallop, chasing after her mysterious husband across the sun-drenched Yorkshire countryside, Felicity couldn't shake the feeling that the game between them had just become infinitely more complicated.And despite everything—the deception, the revenge plot, the marriage built on lies—she found herself looking forward to discovering what came next.
