Chapter Seventeen

When Weston asked to follow her to the garden on the third day, Juliet countered with an idea of her own.

"Is this about the roses? I already sent word to Mr. Brown." Weston asked, his brows furrowed in worry.

"No." Juliet responded. They were both sitting beside each other on the bed. Estelle excused herself only a few minutes later after ensuring Juliet's bath was ready. As usual, Weston was in his usual wear, and Juliet was still in one of her inner wears, a shiny green silky gown.

"I thought you were planting lilies today." Weston asked again, his worry not subsiding.

"The lilies can always wait." Juliet said, her voice soft and alluring.

Weston nodded, a wave of realization crashing into him like a pile of bricks. "It is me, is it not?"

Juliet cocked her eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"I have become overbearing."

"Weston—"

"I knew it would happen soon."

"Weston—"

"It is fine. I shall leave you to your usual—"

"Weston!" Juliet raised her voice, reaching for his hands. He let her grab them and squeeze them. He could see the reassurance in her eyes.

"I just thought— We were always doing things I liked. We were always in my safe space."

"I enjoy being in your safe space, Juliet."

Juliet let out a hearty laugh. "I know that."

Weston frowned. "So what is the problem?"

"Listen. I was thinking we could both go to your safe space this time. Dynamic activities help people know each other even better. I would like to explore more of your world."

Weston frowned, confused. "I do not have a safe space."

"You do." Juliet responded. A few seconds of silence passed between them, and Juliet realized he hadn't the faintest clue about what she was talking about.

"I want to come riding with you today." She spelled it out, her voice concise and direct.

Weston's frown faded from his face, leaving it blank. "What?"

"I just thought it was about time." Juliet replied. Weston remembered the day of their wedding. Juliet had mentioned that she knew how to ride horses. They had never revisited the subject since then, so it was a bit of a surprise for her to bring it up now.

"Are you—sure?" He asked.

"I am." She replied. "And I know exactly which horse I intend to ride."

Juliet watched a wide grin appear on his face.

"Of course." He replied, now squeezing her hands. "We can always go riding after breakfast."

Juliet nodded. "Fantastic. I shall get ready."

The excitement of having something to do with her husband later in the day lingered in her. It was all she could think of when she was taking her bath and as she was getting ready. Even Estelle could tell something was going on because she would not stop smiling at the mirror when she was fixing her corset.

"Riding?" Estelle said when Juliet finished talking to her about it. "You haven't ridden in a long time. What if you fall?"

"Riding is like speaking, Estelle." Juliet responded, putting on her arm gloves. "Just because you haven't spoken in a while doesn't mean you forget how to do it."

"I see." Estelle replied.

"And if it so happens that I do fall, I know Weston will be there to catch me."

Estelle shared in her mistress's happiness. This was a brand new thing for her. Wherever it could go, she would be with her every step of the way.

"I better hurry down for breakfast. I do not want to upset anyone today. Weston has to meet with some of his friends, so he will not join us." Juliet said, giving herself one last look in the mirror before heading out.

At the large table spread in the dining hall, Anne could tell she was excited too, but couldn't figure out why. Lady Beatrice, on the other hand, grew nauseated by her tiny smiles real quick.

"What is it that makes you so excited this morning?" She asked, watching Juliet bite into an apple.

"Nothing." Juliet had replied briefly, but Beatrice knew too well that it wasn't nothing. She didn't push further, though. Instead, she moved the conversation away from her.

"My friend Abigail is celebrating her fifty-seventh anniversary. I shall be holding a ball for her honour."

Juliet felt her heart clutch her chest.

"Here?" Anne asked.

"No. At the King's palace." Beatrice responded, her voice laced with sheer sneer. "Of course, here."

"I wish her a happy anniversary." Juliet said, finding the words before they completely disappeared from her mouth. Beatrice turned to look at her, the gaze in her eyes piercing.

"I shall need Anne and you to be available as soon as possible so you can welcome guests. Will that be too inconvenient for you?" She asked.

Juliet swallowed. "Not at all, mother."

"Great. Well, that is settled." Beatrice said and continued with her food.

Juliet's mind became riddled with tumultuous thoughts. What trap has her mother-in-law set for her this time around? What unexpected surprises was she to expect? Which surprise guest was she going to spring on her? She turned to look at Anne, an inquiring expression on her face. Anne seemed to read her face and reply with a shrug.

She was just as clueless. Whatever this was, Lady Beatrice was playing it close to her chest, which meant it would be harsher than the first.

"How many guests are we expecting?" Anne asked, her words a projection of Juliet's thoughts.

"It's a ball, Anne. There will be many guests." Beatrice replied.

"But who are we to expect? What kind of people are coming?"

"Friends of Abigail, friends of mine, other acquaintances from several parts of London. Abigail is quite the socialite."

Anne shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Why? You think you will be too busy to attend to them one by one?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "You know I didn't mean that, mother."

"I do not care about whatever it is you mean anyway. The event will be held this week, and you better be available." Beatrice said and then turned to Juliet one more time. "Both of you."

Juliet nodded. "Absolutely, mother."

Beatrice was definitely hiding something. Juliet wondered who she invited this time around. And if this ball were as grand as she said it would be, it meant whatever ridicule she had planned for Juliet would be just as grand, or worse. Would this be on the scale of the last scandal she had to go through? Would she become a subject of gossip to be pushed around town once again?

But those thoughts were to be shelved for later. She needed to focus on today. Today, she would go for a ride with her husband, and nothing could stop her excitement. Not even her mother-in-law's announcement and most definitely not dastardly thoughts of whatever the future held for her.

Deciding to close the door on these uncertainties once and for all, she grabbed a piece of bread. Today was for her and her husband only, and she would not let anything get in the way of that.

***

Weston let her lead the way as they both walked into the stables.

"Picking a horse is like picking a pair of gloves. It has to be a perfect fit. You have to connect rather deeply to it, too." He explained, nodding subtly at the men taking care of the horses.

"Like a pair of gloves, you say." Juliet asked, looking around, her eyes darting across the array of horses all neighing in their stalls.

"Yes. That—" Weston continued, gesturing towards a brown mare with a long shiny mane. "—is Edwina. She's the one I take most of the time."

Juliet turned to look at Weston, her face clouded with amusement. "Edwina? You name your horse?"

"You have to name your horse." Weston replied, evidently surprised that this wasn't common knowledge. "It is a rite of passage."

"I see." Juliet responded. Her eyes continued to shift from each horse, and they all either felt a bit too high for her or didn't seem like they would entertain her.

"I want that one." She said, finally, pointing ahead. Weston's eyes followed her hand and landed on a tall, white stallion.

The white stallion. The one that belonged to the former Marquess. The one she had connected to ever so easily when other people had been afraid to even go near it.

"Really? You want that one?"

"It's just like you said, right? The horse has to fit you like a glove? I think he and I made a connection the other day."

Weston gestured to one of the men and asked him to fetch the horse.

"I'd prefer to do that myself if you don't mind." Juliet asked. Weston shrugged and watched her untie the horse and lead it out of the cage.

"Are you ready?" He asked, grabbing the rope to Edwina as well.

"Didn't you say I have to give it a name?"

"I mean—it most likely already has one. It belonged to Richard, remember?"

Juliet laughed. That was it.

Richard.

A few moments later, they both rode out of Estfield, side by side, feeling the cloudy air blow on their faces. They raced each other at one point and went slow, sometimes later. Juliet saw, as they rode, what it meant to Weston. She saw him revel in how the wind blew through his hair, how the sunshine made his face look even more radiant, and just how much pleasure he got from having to control the horse. For the first time, she truly believed she was seeing Weston. He had shown her this side of his that he had kept hidden for so long, which was magnificent.

"So? What are your thoughts?" Weston asked a few hours later as they rode slowly back to Estfield.

"I do not think it gets better than this." Juliet replied. "I cannot believe I missed riding this much."

"You told me your mother taught you." Weston asked.

Juliet held tight to her rope. "My mother loved horses a lot. I know this might come as a surprise, but my father never had stables in the first place. Not until he got married to her."

"She must have been a very impressive woman." Weston commented.

"That she was." Juliet replied.

Silence descended between them after that. Comfortable silence. One that conveyed unspoken understanding. The day was just as wonderful as Juliet had thought it would be. She would not change a thing about it. For a second, she wanted to tell Weston about the ball his mother planned to throw. One look at the happiness on his face and she decided to save it for later. He was in his element here where he could look at the countryside and the vast acres of land that seemed to span on for ages ahead of him.

He was at peace, and it would be terrible of her to take that away from him. She knew how much the pressure of his mother bore down on him. If there was ever a time she could do him a favor, it was now. She would save it again, for later. Now, she would enjoy the sun, the wind, the fields, and everything her senses had to offer with him.

Now, she would drift off in this comfort.

Charles noticed the recent changes in his friend's demeanor. At first, he had chalked it up to the usual random euphoria one wakes up with in the morning. Soon, however, when a farmer in the market joked about his recent produce, and Weston laughed genuinely, he knew it was something completely different.

"You're happier now." Charles had said when they left the produce corner, more as an accusation than a question.

"What?" Weston asked, turning to him. They were headed back to their horses, ready to ride even further into town. Juliet had asked him to go see his friends this morning when he asked to go with her to the garden once again.

"I do not want to be that kind of wife." She had said, her voice distinct.

"What are you talking about? What kind of wife?" Weston had asked, confused as they both headed out of the manor.

"You know what kind. The kind that keeps her husband away from his friends. I do not know about you, but I have reached my limit on being a subject of gossip around town."

"I told you, Charles will understand."

"Yes. He might, but what about others? Lord Charles cannot possibly be your only friend."

"He might as well be, at this point."

"Look," Juliet had grabbed his hands. "Go out today. I promise there'll be more work to do in the garden when you get back. I also enjoy the garden sessions too, but I don't want you to be miserable."

"That's why I go with you, Juliet. Being in the garden stops me from being miserable."

"You say that now, but it's taking time away from your meetings. Just indulge me today and go. I bet Lord Charles and your other friends have some new things to tell you about their recent adventures."

Weston had sighed. She was right. Of course, she was. He had been taking some time away from Charles, and it was up to him to fix that. Hence the meeting with him later that day, and now, as they both made their way out of the farmer's market, Weston couldn't help but ponder the question Charles had asked him.

"Answer me." Charles said again, slightly pushing his shoulder. "What is keeping you happy these days? I know it isn't me because we haven't seen each other in a while."

Weston said nothing. Half of him hoped Charles would drop the subject, while the other half wanted him to figure it out.

"Wait." Charles whispered, a wave of epiphany crossing his mind. "Is it Juliet?"

Weston felt a tiny smile creep up his face. His friend was right after all. Just the sound of his wife's name, and he was already giddy.

"Oh. so you have finally decided to—" Charles continued.

"No. Not that." Weston replied, cutting him off. "But we have grown closer these past few days. I join her in the gardens, and we talk."

Charles shared in his friend's happiness. Of course, this was all he had ever wanted, for Weston to find a silver lining in the terrible situation he had found himself in. He just didn't think it would happen so fast.

"What do you talk about?" He asked.

Weston shrugged. "Everything. Nothing. That is the best part. We do not have to act up to some moral code or instill any kind of formality. We just sit and talk. Well, that is a bit of an embellishment. I sit and talk while she works."

"That is quite fascinating. So you have realised you might like her after all."

Weston raised his hands in defense. "Let us not jump to conclusions here. I have only said I have found her to be a wonderful companion. I never said anything about love or like. Our marriage is still very much duty-bound."

"Right. So you do not think your relationship will ever move past gardens?"

"And rides." Weston admitted. Charles frowned at his words in confusion. "We both went for rides yesterday. She took Richard's horse."

Charles froze. "She took what?"

"I am aware of how surprising that is, as well."

"That damn horse almost killed me when I tried to go near it, and what, he did nothing to her?"

"That is basically what happened. They found a connection quickly."

Charles started to walk again, his arms folded over his chest.

"Interesting. The horse likes her."

"She gave it a name as well. Richard."

"After Richard?"

"I will assume so, yes."

They walked further for a little more, and soon, their tied horses came into view.

"So you went on a ride with her into town yesterday?"

"Yes. I did." Weston responded.

"And you are still of the opinion that she is only a wonderful companion?"

Weston shrugged. "Yes."

"Do I really need to spell it out for you, Weston? You're falling in love with her."

Weston laughed. "I think I would know if I fell in love with someone. Let alone Juliet."

"Indeed. A few weeks ago, you wouldn't even touch her with a stick if you could help it. Now you're leaving time away to follow her to gardens and take her on rides, and you still think she is nothing but a companion?"

"Precisely." Weston replied. "She is my source of peace whenever my mother tries to start another war of hers around the house, nothing more."

Charles reached for Weston's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I shall let you figure this one out on your own."

Weston frowned. "There is nothing to figure out. I just told you."

They began to untie the ropes to their horses.

"And again, I said I shall let you work it out. Do not worry. I shall be here for you when you do."

Weston shrugged. His friend was wrong. That was the fact. He had found Juliet to be a kind human being who seemed wise and knew how to pick her words. He had learned more about her mother in the past few days and knew how she felt about specific subjects. He liked conversing with her. He should've known that would happen since that was what drew him to her in the first place.

But that was it. He only liked talking to her. She was his escape. He wasn't in love with her. He would know if he was.