Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A nthony sat in his study, trying to focus on the estate accounts spread across his desk.

His thoughts kept returning to Eliza, to the argument they'd had and to the passion that had flared between them before everything had gone wrong.

He cursed under his breath, frustrated with himself for letting himself get carried away. For allowing her to get as hurt as she did.

A knock on the door interrupted his brooding. Anthony straightened in his chair, forcing himself to push thoughts of Eliza to the back of his mind.

"Enter," he called, his tone sharper than he intended.

The door opened, and the butler stepped inside, bowing slightly. "Your Grace, I apologize for the interruption, but your sister has arrived. She is waiting in the drawing room."

Anthony frowned, annoyed by the intrusion. The last thing he wanted right now was a visit from his sister, especially when he was in such a foul mood. But Phoebe had come all this way, and he could not very well send her away without seeing her.

He let out a slow breath, trying to rein in his frustration. "Thank you," he said, his voice clipped. "I will be there shortly."

The butler nodded and exited the room, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts once more. He stood, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the tension that had settled in his shoulders.

Anthony walked to the window with a deep sigh, staring out at the estate as he procrastinated going down to see his sister. The sky was still bright, but he could see clouds gathering on the horizon, hinting at the possibility of rain later in the evening.

All he wanted was to be left alone. But he knew his sister wouldn't be put off easily. So, he worked some kinks out of his shoulders, straightened his cravat, and went downstairs, preparing himself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

When he entered the drawing room, Phoebe was already seated, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Anthony!" she exclaimed, standing to greet him. "It's been far too long."

He forced a smile, embracing her briefly before stepping back. "Phoebe, this is a surprise. What brings you here?"

She gave him a knowing look as they both sat down.

"No, ‘happy to see you too,' hmm?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need a reason to visit my dear brother?"

"I am no fool, sister. I know when you're up to something. What is it this time?"

Phoebe sighed, "How is Eliza? I was hoping to see her as well."

Anthony glanced away, not wanting to meet her probing gaze. "She's… adjusting," he replied, carefully choosing his words.

Phoebe studied him for a moment, her expression softening.

"Anthony, tell me honestly. Is everything all right? After your visit, I couldn't help but worry a little about you," Phoebe asked gently.

She reached out to take Anthony's hand. He pulled his hand away from Phoebe's.

"Everything is perfectly fine," he said, a touch of irritation creeping into his voice.

"Brother, please. You can talk to me."

Anthony's jaw tightened, but he did not respond. He did not want to discuss this, especially not with Phoebe.

Before Phoebe could press further, the butler reappeared in the doorway.

"Your Grace, would you and Lady Rutherford care for some refreshments?"

Anthony seized the opportunity to change the subject. "Yes, please," he said quickly. "Bring us some tea."

The butler nodded and left the room, and Anthony turned back to his sister, hoping the tea would serve as a distraction. But he knew Phoebe well enough to know that she wouldn't be so easily deterred.

"Anthony," she began, her voice soft, "where is Eliza now? Perhaps she would care to join us?"

"I do not think that would be possible," Anthony told her in a clipped tone.

"Because she is away, or because you do not wish to be in the same room as her?" Phoebe probed, leaning forward to look him in the eye.

Before he could respond, a bolt of lightning crashed across the sky, rattling the windowpanes. The wind howled through the trees outside, and the rain began to pelt the windows with increasing force. Thunder rumbled in the distance, growing closer with each passing moment.

Phoebe glanced out the window, her concern evident. "It looks like the storm's going to be quite a violent one."

Anthony nodded, his mind still racing from their conversation. "Yes, it seems so. You should get comfortable in the guest wing. I will make arrangements for dinner."

Phoebe hesitated, searching his face for a moment, but then nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. It really is too bad; I had hoped to be home for Violet."

"I am sure they would understand your safety is most important," Anthony noted, standing. The violence of the storm distracted him from the conversation. "I should check in with the staff and make sure that everything is all right."

"I shall see you for dinner," Phoebe said, standing as well.

He gave a curt nod, already moving toward the door.

The forest closed around her, its quiet offering a strange sort of comfort. The air was cooler under the canopy, and the sound of rustling leaves replaced the hurtful echoes in her mind.

As she moved deeper into the woods, the memories of her parents returned to her. She could almost hear her mother's laughter; see her father's kind eyes. But those memories only served to remind her of what she had lost, and the tears she had been holding back began to blur her vision.

Eliza pushed forward. The further she went, the more the forest seemed to swallow her up.

Finally, she came to a small clearing. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled pattern on the ground.

She stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked around. Needing to compose herself before she continued, she dismounted the horse, which lowered her head to graze.

She sank to the ground, the strength draining from her legs. The earth was cool and solid beneath her, and she pressed her palms against it, trying to find some stability. But the tears came again anyway, and she buried her face in her hands, letting the sobs come.

The quiet of the forest was broken by her grief, the sound carrying through the trees.

She had tried so hard to be strong, to hold herself together, but now, it all came crashing down. The loneliness, the rejection, the feeling of being utterly lost—it all spilled out in those tears.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, curled up in the meadow, the tears eventually giving way to a hollow numbness.

When she finally lifted her head, the sun had shifted, casting long shadows across the clearing. The anger that had driven her into the woods was gone, leaving only a deep weariness.

Eliza knew she could not stay there forever. She had to go back, had to face whatever awaited her. But the thought of returning to the castle, to the cold indifference of her husband, made her stomach turn.

But what other choice did she have?

Slowly, she got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her skirt. Her body felt heavy and achy. But as she walked back through the woods, a new resolve began to form. She might be trapped in this marriage, but she wasn't going to let it destroy her.

She barely noticed the dark clouds darkening the woods beyond. Only when she felt a gust of cool wind blow her hair did she look up.

The storm descended upon her with a sudden, violent fury. Dark clouds rolled in, blotting out the sun and plunging the world into an eerie twilight. A bolt of lightning cracked against the sky, piercing the air with a sudden fury that Eliza let out a small scream, and her horse reared in fear, taking off into the woods.

"No!" she called. "Come back!"

But the horse was long gone. Eliza started to run after her but realized it was futile when the first drops of rain began to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the darkened landscape for a brief moment.

"I need to get back," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. But she could barely see her way through the forest, each step feeling more uncertain than the last.

Cracks of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet, making her jump. She quickened her pace, fear gnawing at her as the storm intensified. The trees groaned and swayed in the wind, their branches thrashing wildly.

The rain blurred her vision, and she wiped at her eyes, struggling to see.

Just as she thought she might reach the edge of the forest, a blinding flash of lightning struck a nearby tree with a deafening crack.

"No!" Eliza cried out in terror as the ancient oak shuddered, its trunk splintering. The massive tree began to topple, its heavy branches reaching out like claws.

Before she could react, a gust of wind ripped through the trees, snapping off a large branch. The heavy limb crashed to the ground, dragging smaller branches with it. The force of the impact sent Eliza sprawling into the mud.

Pain shot through her ankle as she tried to get to her feet. The realization hit her like a blow—she had twisted her ankle badly in the fall.

Panic surged through her as she struggled to free herself from the tangle of branches, but every movement sent a fresh wave of pain shooting up her leg.

"Please, no," she whispered, her breath hitching.

The rain pelted down, soaking her to the skin and turning the ground into a slippery mire. She tried to pull herself up, but her injured ankle refused to bear her weight, and she could not get the branch off of herself without it. With a gasp of pain, she sank back to the ground.

A flash of lightning illuminated the scene, casting eerie shadows across the landscape. The cold seeped into her bones, and her hands shook as she tried to push the branches away.

"Someone, please!" she cried out though she knew no one could hear her over the storm's fury. "Help!"

Eliza's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was alone, injured, and unable to move. The storm raged on, relentless, and she felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

The cold mud clung to her clothes, chilling her to the core. She was shivering uncontrollably now, with cold and exhaustion. The storm showed no signs of letting up.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pushed with all her remaining strength, but her body refused to cooperate. The branches held her fast, and her injured ankle throbbed mercilessly.

"Please, someone… anyone…" she whimpered, but her voice was barely audible over the storm.

The sounds of the raging weather outside echoed through the halls, but Anthony's thoughts were focused elsewhere—on Eliza and the unsettling realization that he could not seem to banish her from his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He found Mrs. Hayes near the kitchens, discussing the evening's plans with the cook. The housekeeper looked up as he approached.

"Mrs. Hayes," Anthony began, trying to keep his tone steady, "I will need dinner prepared for my sister and me. Prepare a room in the guest wing for her. Can you also find Mr. Stoppard? I want to understand what impact a storm like this might have on the estate."

"Of course, Your Grace," Mrs. Hayes replied with a respectful nod. "We'll have it ready shortly."

Anthony was about to turn away when something in Mrs. Hayes's expression made him pause. She seemed hesitant, as if she had something more to say.

"Is there something else?" he asked, trying to mask the irritation in his voice.

Mrs. Hayes hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "I haven't seen Her Grace for a while now. She often takes walks in the afternoon, but with the storm?—"

Anthony's heart skipped a beat, a sudden worry gripping him. "When was the last time anyone saw her?"

The housekeeper's brows furrowed in thought. "It must have been a few hours ago, Your Grace. She mentioned going out for some air, but I haven't seen her since."

Anthony's mind raced. He tried to remember when he had last seen Eliza at the lake, but it must have been after the staff saw her leave which meant he was the last person to see her.

He sucked in his breath, realizing that she had to be out in the storm.

"Send someone to search the grounds," he ordered, his voice tense. "And prepare a warm fire in the parlor. I will be back soon."

Mrs. Hayes looked taken aback by his sudden urgency, but she nodded quickly. "Right away, Your Grace."

Anthony's anxiety surged as he hurriedly made his way through the castle, stopping to question every servant he encountered. Each time he asked, his dread deepened—no one had seen Eliza since she left for her walk earlier in the day. The footmen and maids all shook their heads, their faces reflecting the growing concern that mirrored his own.

"Have you seen the Duchess?" Anthony asked a maid who was tidying a corridor, his voice tight with worry.

"No, Your Grace," she replied, shaking her head. "I haven't seen Her Grace since this afternoon."

Anthony clenched his fists, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. The storm outside was intensifying, and with each passing second, his fear for Eliza's safety grew.

As he descended the grand staircase, his sister, Phoebe, appeared at the bottom, her face filled with curiosity and concern. "Anthony, what's going on? What's all this fuss about?"

He barely slowed his pace as he passed her, his voice strained with panic. "Eliza—she hasn't returned from her walk. I need to find her."

Phoebe's eyes widened in alarm, and she grabbed his arm to stop him. "Wait, Anthony! You cannot go out in this storm—it's dangerous!"

But Anthony shook her off, his desperation clear. "I have to find her, Phoebe. I cannot just stand here and do nothing."

Without another word, Anthony turned and strode toward the main entrance. The storm raged outside, the rain coming down in sheets, but he did not care.

The worry gnawing at his gut had grown too strong to ignore. He grabbed his coat from a nearby hook, barely noticing the way his hands trembled as he fastened it.

As he stepped outside, the wind hit him with a force that nearly took his breath away. The rain soaked him within moments, but he pressed on, his eyes scanning the grounds for any sign of Eliza. The trees swayed violently in the wind, and the once calm gardens were now a chaotic mess of swirling leaves and debris.

Anthony sprinted toward the stables, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. The storm battered him as he pushed through the doors of the stable, where the groomsmen were struggling to keep the horses calm amidst the thunder and lightning.

"Bring me my horse!" Anthony shouted over the din, his voice filled with urgency.

"Your Grace," the groom protested, "it is not safe to ride in a storm like this."

"Now!" Anthony commanded.

One of the grooms hurried to saddle the horse, his hands moving quickly despite the tension in the air. Anthony paced anxiously.

He could not believe he had let this happen—he had been so wrapped up in his own emotions that he had not even noticed she was missing.

As soon as his horse was ready, Anthony mounted quickly, the horse prancing underneath him. He held on firmly and spurred the horse into a gallop, charging out of the stable and into the storm.

The rain lashed against his face, obscuring his vision as he rode through the estate grounds. His eyes scanned the darkened landscape, searching desperately for any sign of her. The path that had seemed so familiar and safe now felt treacherous with fallen branches and mud making the ride even more perilous.

"Eliza!" he shouted into the storm, his voice swallowed by the roaring wind and rain. He pushed his horse harder, the animal's hooves pounding against the soaked earth.

Suddenly, he saw her horse charging toward him, neighing with panic. However, there was no rider on its back.

The fear gnawed at him, clawing at his insides as he searched. Every passing moment without finding her only heightened his panic. What if she was hurt? What if she was lost in the woods?

"Eliza!" he called again, his voice hoarse with desperation.

He could not lose her—not like this, not like he'd lost Charles, not when he had not even had the chance to make things right.

As he rode, lightning lit up the sky, briefly illuminating the landscape.

It was in one of those fleeting moments that he caught sight of something in the distance—something that did not belong.

He yanked on the reins, turning his horse sharply toward it.

His heart pounded as he approached, the dark shape becoming clearer through the sheets of rain. It was a figure, struggling to free itself from the tangled branches of a fallen tree. His breath caught in his throat.

"Eliza!" he shouted, urging his horse forward.