Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

“ T oday’s hunt will be one for the books, I assure you!” Tristan exclaimed, his enthusiasm cutting through the brisk winter air as he gestured animatedly. “A gentle summer and a light snowfall mean plentiful game and fewer hiding places. And no where to hide equals an easier catch for us!”

Alistair offered a half-hearted smile, his gaze drifting to the other man accompanying them, Nathaniel, who stood a few paces away, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Despite Tristan’s cheerful banter, Alistair could sense the heaviness that hung in the air, as if winter itself had settled around them, stifling any warmth.

“Isn’t that right, brother?” Tristan pressed, turning to his younger brother and nudging him playfully. “You wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance to show off your marksmanship, would you?”

“I suppose not,” Nathaniel replied, his voice steady but lacking the usual spark. He glanced back at Alistair, who slightly lifted a brow in question. “Though I doubt either of us would be able to match your prowess, Tristan.”

“Bah! You’re just being modest,” Tristan laughed, but his eyes darted back to Alistair, seeming to sense the awkwardness that enveloped them. “What do you think, men? Are we ready for the hunt?”

Nathaniel’s following response was delayed, as if he were weighing his words carefully. “I suppose it’s better than sitting indoors all day,” he said finally, his tone flat.

Alistair noticed the way the man’s jaw tightened, a sign that the conversation that had been held off loomed just beneath the surface. He drew in a breath.

About a day ago, Alistair had butted in on another wedding decision with Nathaniel and Evie. It had been a small detail, really, but he couldn’t help himself; he was always a man to have his own opinion, especially when it came to matters that related to himself and family.

Nathaniel had stayed silent while Alistair listed off his ideas, but then asked to speak with him afterward when Evangeline was out of earshot. The man’s expression had been a mix of frustration and disappointment, and Alistair had brushed it off, claiming he was too busy.

Now, as they brushed their horses by the stables, he could sense Nathaniel’s mood shifting like the chilly wind. Alistair had taken the day to reflect, and he found that he realized the issue had been too small a matter for him to interfere in.

However, he found it difficult to apologize. The mere thought of having the conversation and ever so slightly admitting he was wrong made him feel uncomfortable. That was not the kind of man he was.

It was a complicated dynamic, one that made Alistair feel both guilty and defensive. Over the days, he’d actually grown to not only accept Nathaniel, but also like the man. Especially considering how happy the man made his sister.

He remained at war with his thoughts, hoping that the storm brewing would pass with no trouble.

“This hunt will be far more exhilarating than the last! Remember that last when we nearly caught that stag? The thrill of the chase!” Tristan encouraged, acting oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between the brothers.

But Alistair knew the man could tell there was an issue. Tristan acted carefree but he was no doubt one of the wisest and observant among gentleman Alistair had come across.

“Alistair,” Nathaniel finally addressed him, his voice low but firm, “we need to talk.”

“Indeed, you both do! Truly, I can’t take this awkwardness any longer!” Tristan blurted out suddenly, his voice cutting through the chilly air like a knife. He threw his hands up in exasperation, his breath visible in the frosty morning light. “Go ahead, talk, both of you. Just… smooth things over or whatever else it is you need. I’ll wait for you both.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and skepticism as he blurted suddenly, “He’s just going to leave us to sort this out? I was given the impression he loves to find entertainment in serious situations.”

Nathaniel chuckled softly, shaking his head as he watched his elder brother walk away, a spunky pep in his step as always. “He knows his limits. And he hates tension more than most things,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “But he’s not wrong. The air here is indeed suffocating.”

“Is it?” Alistair echoed, nodding as Nathaniel gestured for them to begin walking. “I apologize for not finding time to have this conversation earlier. Tell me, what do you wish to say?”

“Your Grace, allow me to start by saying I do appreciate your thoughts on the wedding arrangements,” Nathaniel began, his tone steady as they strolled through the sprawling white covered gardens of Alistair's estate. “However, I believe it would be best if you stepped back completely from this moment on. It’s not necessary for you to be so involved.”

Alistair bristled at the suggestion, a flash of indignation crossing his features. “You cannot be serious. Completely? I’ll remind you again I’m Evangeline’s elder brother. I have every right to ensure that she gets the wedding she deserves, as well as fulfiling all that is expected of her,” he retorted, his voice rising slightly.

Nathaniel stopped walking, turning to face Alistair, his expression calm yet firm. “It’s not about rights, Your Grace. You say you wish to give her a wedding she deserves? Then allow us to make our choices. She has her own vision for this day, and it doesn’t include you lording every detail.”

The eloquence in the man’s words struck Alistair, making him pause to consider the truth in the statement. However, he could not help still feeling attacked.

“Lording?” His eyes narrowed, but the challenge in Nathaniel's gaze made him reconsider and remember he was here to smooth things over. “I’m merely trying to help.”

“I know you think that,” Nathaniel nodded, his tone softening. “But sometimes, help can feel more like interference. Evie loves you, and she values your support. But she also needs the space to create her own memories without feeling overshadowed.” He sighed, “We need that, Your Grace.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Alistair felt a knot of frustration and admiration twist in his chest. They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the rustle of the dead leaves and branches in the gentle snow.

After a few moments, Alistair sighed, breaking the silence. “My apologies, for intruding, Nathaniel. You are right. I’ll refrain from unnecessary adjustments from now on.”

Nathaniel’s surprise was evident, his brows lifting slightly. Then a smile crept onto his face, warm and genuine. “Thank you for your understanding, Your Grace. Of course, if necessary, we’ll run a few things by you here and there.”

“That works,” Alistair replied, a sense of relief washing over him. It was as though he could physically feel the tension that had lingered between them begin to dissipate.

The Evertons had brought several new feelings into his household. He’d found himself chuckling with Tristan on occasion, here he was, easily apologizing to Nathaniel, and then there was of course… Cecilia.

The way she made him feel, however, was not as pleasant or easy to understand as was the case with her brothers.

Why do I always get this feeling when my thoughts shift to her?

“Nathaniel, we’ve really wandered far, haven’t we?” Alistair chuckled, shaking his head as he tried to return his thoughts to the present.

“I’m surprised we haven’t gotten lost, to be honest,” Nathaniel replied, a playful grin lighting up his face. “We should head back before we end up in the next county.”

They turned to retrace their steps, and as they returned to the stables. Alistair's eyes suddenly widened. There, by the stables, stood a familiar figure beside Tristan.

“Miss Everton? What is she doing out here?” he blurted out, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.

Tristan, leaning casually against the stable door, laughed heartily. “Oh, she’s come to join us on the hunt, of course!”

Alistair’s heart raced as he took in the sight of Cecilia. She was clad in fitted riding gear that accentuated her figure, the dark fabric hugging her curves in a way that made his breath hitch.

Her long hair was pulled back into a neat braid, strands escaping to frame her face, softening her sharp features. The way she stood, poised and confident, exuded an effortless grace that left him momentarily speechless.

“Are you being serious?” Alistair struggled with keeping composure at this most unexpected sight of her, his eyes darting between Nathaniel and Tristan, searching for some sign that this was a joke.

The men’s laughter echoed around him, but he felt a rush of panic rising in his chest. He tried to shake off the feeling, reminding himself that he had no business finding her attractive, especially not now.

Cecilia turned her head slightly, catching Alistair's gaze ever so quickly before dragging her eyes back to her horse with a huff. Her skin was flushed, likely from the cold. She adjusted her gloves, the movement fluid and deliberate, and Alistair’s heart raced even faster.

What is wrong with me?

“And what do you mean exactly by such question, Your Grace?” she asked, her tone challenging as always.

Alistair faced her matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t expect you to join us, Miss Everton. After all, you are a lady, such is not expected.”

Her eyes sparkled with indignation, and she countered immediately, “Who says ladies can’t join in hunts?”

Nathaniel and Tristan, sensing the rising tension, quickly jumped in. “You shouldn’t underestimate Cecilia, Your Grace,” Nathaniel chimed in, a grin spreading across his face. “She’s been horse riding since she was a child and has beaten both of us in countless races.”

Alistair lifted a brow, his skepticism evident. “Hunts are distinctly different from races, nevertheless. Do you not worry she might find herself in danger?”

A vision of her falling victim to a trouble her delicate frame likely could not handle flashed by his mind and Alistair shuddered internally. He felt an odd sense of protectiveness fill him as he watched her coo at her horse.

“Danger?” Tristan’s question turned into cackles immediately echoed by his brother. “Oh, Your Grace, our sister is the danger if anything.”

Alistair’s brow remained lifted as he watched the young woman swat airily at her elder brother who only slung an arm across her shoulders.

What an odd bunch these people are.

“What he means to say is, she’s perfectly capable of handling herself, Your Grace. Plus, we’d all be watching her most of the time,” Nathaniel spoke with a smile.

Alistair couldn’t resist, “My point remains very loud still.”

Cecilia opened her mouth to retort, but Tristan interjected, pulling her closer with a laugh. “She wanted to come out with us. She’s tired of being cooped up in that mansion all day, Your Grace.”

Cecilia leaned away from Tristan slightly, her posture was relaxed, but Alistair couldn’t help but notice how the movement drew attention to her lithe figure.

Focus, Alistair.

‘Tis wrong to ogle a woman in front of her two brothers!

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, adding, “Besides, it would be beneficial for her research to explore the woods. There’s so much to discover out here.”

Alistair began again, hesitating as he searched for the right words. “This isn’t a leisurely outing. Hunts require skill and focus.”

Finally, Cecilia met his gaze, unyielding. “And I have both of those qualities, Your Grace. I beg you do not underestimate me.” She gave him a tight smile, “The day shall not wait for us. Shall we begin?”

“Do you see that track? It must be fresh!” Nathaniel exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement as he pointed toward the ground.

“We ought to hurry before it gets away, ya!” Tristan added, already galloping ahead into the dense thicket. His enthusiasm was understandable, as they had been walking for a while, making only small talk, as they searched for anything to strike in the cold.

“We ought to move in a group!” Alistair called, trying to keep pace with the two brothers. However, as he glanced back, he noticed their sister had come off her horse, lingering behind, her attention seemingly captured by a small patch of vibrant green peeking through the snow.

“And whatever do you think you’re doing? Your brothers are leaving,” he asked, turning his horse to head in her direction.

“Just a moment!” she replied, crouching down even further to examine the delicate plant, with purple petals defying the chill of winter.

“They are like that every winter. They bloom every season. They are rare, and I believe I’ve only seen them in my estate,” he hoped providing information would get her back on her horse.

“Fascinating,” Cecilia’s eyes were wide with wonder.

Alistair, for a moment, got lost in watching her, feeling surprised at such genuine fascination on her face.

He felt frustrated and confused as he got off his horse and approached where she was crouched, “We’re on a hunt, Miss Everton. That plant isn’t going anywhere,” he said, trying to mask the way her fascination drew him in.

“Maybe I’d rather get lost in nature than chase after a wild deer that’s never done me any harm ,” Cecilia rolled her eyes, the contrast between her sharp tongue and delicate movements and features lifting the corners of Alistair’s lips slightly.

“Truly, I do not know how you can be so fascinated by a flower when there’s a stag to catch,” he muttered, trying to mask the interest building within him.

She glanced up, her green eyes sparkling with annoyance. “It’s not just a flower, Your Grace. It’s a rare winter bloom! And besides, I mainly came on this hunt to explore nature, not just chase after some innocent animal.”

“Then perhaps you should have stayed back at the estate, you could have come another time, when your brothers are free enough to properly watch over you,” he shot back, feeling another rush of frustration.

Cecilia stood up, brushing her hands on her trousers, her expression fierce. “What now? You find me problematic for appreciating the beauty around us? It’s winter, Your Grace! Nature doesn’t stop just because men are focused on hunts. My brothers are mostly busy.”

His chest tightened at her words. He’d never had a woman so quick with counters at him. He doubted he’d ever get used to it. “You’re no doubt just—” he paused, struggling to articulate his thoughts. “You’re not taking this seriously. You cannot see how dangerous this could be for you.”

“Perhaps you could learn to relax a little, Your Grace. Life is not always on the ready to attack you,” she replied, crossing her arms defiantly. The way she stood, chin raised and eyes locked onto his, made it impossible for him to look away.

“I’m not threatened by anything in life, it is certainly not for myself I find worry,” he retorted, narrowing his eyes.

Cecilia’s laughter rang out, a melody in the stillness of the woods. “And then, who might it be that you worry for, Your Grace?”

You.

Alistair however, kept silent. Allowing his eyes to pass across the obvious message. For a second, Cecilia’s eyes widened as she watched him, as though she could not fathom he would wish for her safety.

You could not possibly think I detest you, do you?

Alistair frowned. The thought of her having such notions upset him for some reason. He watched as her cheeks flamed suddenly and she turned away from him.

What was that?

“I do not-”

“We should head back to your brothers. Get on your horse, now,” Alistair left no space for question with his loud command, cutting her short.

He watched her get on her horse in silence, and only then did he climb his and gestured toward the path the Everton men had run off to.

“After you?”