“You are being kind. Let’s take a stroll on the drive, shall we?” He headed for the door, opened it, and waited for her.

“I thought you didn’t care for the out-of-doors.”

“My relationship with the natural world is complicated. As a boy, I wanted nothing so much as to be outside, away from my tutors and very especially away from my father. He watched me as if he knew I was about to disappoint him, as if sooner or later, I would stumble or give an incorrect answer. Then I realized he wanted me to disappoint him so that he could correct and rebuke me. Calculating how short of perfection I needed to fall and how often became my consuming burden. The only time I felt free was when Nathaniel and I were truant.”

Rothhaven Hall could be a pretty home, in Constance’s opinion, but it wanted fresh air. A breeze stirring the curtains. The sound of birdsong piping through an open window. The place was clean enough for an enormous dwelling with an aging staff, but the house was not alive.

“So you escaped to the out-of-doors as a boy,” Constance said as they approached the foyer. “What about now?”

“Now…” His Grace peered out the window at a beautiful sunny day, his expression suggesting he beheld torrents of sleet. “It’s difficult. When I was sent away, Dr. Soames realized that if I was to be made amenable to his various regimens and experiments, he needed to manipulate the things I longed for most. He withheld from me the privileges of the yard, and after a time…”

“The yard came to symbolize his power, not your freedom. What a hideous man, to pervert your joy into fear and rage. I knew I detested him for good reason. So why are we going outside now?”

Rothhaven was no longer studying the sky, but rather, regarding Constance. “Because it is time I reclaimed my joy, or at least put the rage and fear into the past. You are dangerously perceptive, my lady.”

“Dr. Soames was a dictator, as was your father. Dictators teach those beneath them to be alert.” She marched onto the terrace and waited for the duke to join her. He again glanced up, then scanned the front drive and the overgrown park on either side of it.

Constance beckoned to her host. “I have yet to see any giant birds swooping through the Yorkshire sky, ready to devour unsuspecting dukes. Nor have any French patrols been spotted in the environs. Come along, sir. We must make a list.”

He stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. “Perhaps we should have spied on the potting shed instead. My driveway is not a very cheering prospect, is it?”

“If your efforts in the walled garden are any indication, you have a capacity for establishing order that will soon address the neglect I see here. The drainage ditch would be my first priority.”