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The narrative around her seemed consistent so far. It was the narrative within her that she had problems with, still slithering inside her like the poison that continued to hold on to a bitter past. Finding the cracks in Westbourne’s administration seemed like an impossibility at this point. She was supposed to list grievances on raised rents and neglected property. So far, she had failed.

That didn't mean she had given up.

Not yet.

“Yes, my lady. Those are the new iron shoes from the estate ledger,” the blacksmith said. “He has replaced much of the rusty roof by the coal pit.”

“His Grace has ensured the upper stream will not result in flooding,” the miller’s wife said. “Our house would have been one of the casualties if there were water gushing from it.”

Most of her conversations didn't feel like real conversations, since she ended up merely listening to the reports and hastening to leave. It was a maddening and exhausting exercise. The Duke of Westbourne highlighted all the good the Earl and Countess of Ashbourne had established, improved on the bad, and listened to the people's complaints.

Rosamund was deep in thought as she walked down a narrow, muddy lane. This time, she decided to visit Louis Egbert, an old man who had worked for her father for decades. Certainly, he would have a different view of everything?

At nearly eighty years old, Louis knew every bit of boundary, soil, and secret in Ashbourne. If someone had to be relied on to provide an accurate commentary on how the estate was being handled, it would be him.

“Lady Rosamund,” the old man greeted, his voice sounding rough and dry. He did not try to stand, but it was clear that he was better off sitting. His weathered face creased into a leathery but genuine smile, as he nodded at Rosamund. It was his version of bowing. “I heard somewhere that I should expect you today.”

Rosamund chuckled. Word must have gotten out that she had walking the estate. A part of her felt guilty about using the Duke’s permission to investigate him.

“Yes, I was planning to see you,” she admitted, “I - I wanted to see how the timber has fared in the last few years. I saw that the woods are still full of trees.”

“No, child,” Louis said, chuckling softly. He shook his head as if it was an impossibility. “The forests have not been clear at all. The Duke gave strict orders to maintain a certain percentage uncutat all times. He wanted to preserve the forests.”

“Mm,” Rosamund mused. “So, he was determined to preserve his investment, then?”

The old man looked at her with shrewd eyes that made Rosamund’s stomach clench. It was as if the man could read her mind better than she could ever understand her thoughts.

“The Duke was harsh when the scandal occurred. Nobody could deny that, even he himself,” the old man said, “He was like a storm. Yes, he was fierce, my lady. Then, he had to be as cold as ice when he was dealing with the creditors.”

“Do you think the Duke was a god man?” Rosamund asked. “He wrecked my father’s reputation, Louis.”

“I can never blame you for feeling that way. You are the daughter of Ashbourne. You lost your estate and your family. However, what I can say well about Westbourne was that he knew how to manage Ashbourne. He has saved the estate.”

Rosamund felt her cheeks turning red. It was almost as if the old man was criticizing her or giving her a personal affront, but she knew it was not the case. It still stung that people believed that after the Duke had taken over the estate, he had made it flourish while also being fair with its tenants.

“Oh,” was all she could utter.

“My lady, your father was a good man who had served the estate for decades, his father before him and his grandfather, too, both knew how to be great caretakers of Ashbourne. They had done what they could do with what they were given. However, we should also recognize that even while Westbourne might be considered a usurper until the end of time, he did not act like an investor who bought the state at an auction. He is acting more like someone who is preserving it. He is blocking most of the unnecessary changes to Ashbourne, especially by the upper brook.”

“The upper brook?” Rosamund echoed. “Is that not near the pony stable?”

Rosamund’s heart was racing. There were so many threads joining together, making loops and the resulting design was that of a Duke who was eager to keep Ashbourne looking like it had always been.

“Aye,” Louis replied. “I remember Lord Henry’s pony stable. The roof was sagging after the - after his passing. The estate agent had advised that the place was to be torn for timber and also for the space to be rebuilt into something else. The Duke refused any changes on the pony stable. He only had it mended and regularly cleaned.”

Rosamund felt disoriented once more. For years, she had a sense of what she wanted to achieve. Now, she did not know how she could even hope for revenge if there was no need for it.

“Why would he keep Henry’s stable? It does not make sense. Henry is dead. The Duke could have freely used the are for something else that would provide him with profit.”

“But, Lady Rosamund,” the old man’s eyes looked to her in wonder. “But I thought you already know that -”

But before Louis could go any further with his explanation, they heard the heavy sound of boots. Before Rosamund even turned her head around to see who was arriving, she somehow already knew who it was.

Westbourne. Of course it was him.

He walked toward him with effortless grace, holding a riding crop. His stallion must have been somewhere nearby, ready to take him back to Ashbourne Hall. Yet, here he was, approaching here in the one place at that given moment that she decided to visit.

She reluctantly looked at the man she had persuaded herself to be her enemy. He wore no hat and had let his hair tussle with the breeze. His eyes quickly flicked from Louis to Rosamund. The rakish man at parties and the efficient estate manager that Ashbourne Hall’s tenants appreciated was gone. He was just the same intense man who could be infuriatingly silent that Rosamund had gotten to know.