Chapter Ten

By the time the carriage had started moving again, Natalie's regret settled deeper in her chest. She had gone to the coach to stay with Matthew. Thankfully , Matthew hadn't said anything or asked any questions. She stared at her hands trembling in her lap. She clenched her hands in her lap, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirts. The words she had thrown at Raphael echoed in her mind.

She shouldn't have spoken to him that way. No matter how much he had provoked her, she should have held her tongue. She had been raised better than that. Yet, with only a few words, he had managed to break her restraint.

His smug grin, his taunting tone—it all made her blood boil. He knew how to get under her skin. He always had. That much was undeniable. It was just like when they were kids but much worse now.

A warmth still lingered on her lips, a reminder of what had happened. She pressed her fingers against her mouth, hoping to erase the memory. But it wouldn't leave. She could still feel the weight of his gaze, the heat of his breath.

She shook her head, trying to push the thought away. It was foolish. She had no business thinking of Raphael in any way other than irritation. Yet, the more she tried to forget, the more she remembered. The memory of his nearness, the intensity in his gaze, was branded into her mind. This was madness. Absolute madness.

But it wasn't just the kiss that infuriated her. It was the wanting of the kiss.

For a moment, she had forgotten everything. That he was a duke. That she was supposed to hate him. That there was no place for softness between them. She had let him kiss her—worse, she had kissed him back. She had melted into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as though she belonged there.

Her mother would be ashamed of her.

A part of her was relieved that Raphael had ruined the moment. She didn't even want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't. Would they still be tangled together in the carriage, his lips teasing hers, deepening the kiss? Would her hands still be in his hair, holding him close, aching for more?

Natalie clenched her fists. It's all his fault.

If he hadn't given her that cursed wine, none of this would have happened. If he had just left her at the estate, she wouldn't be here now, burning with shame.

She sighed, pressing her hands to her face.

She felt Matthew's eyes on her before he spoke.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she lied.

Matthew didn't look convinced, but he nodded and turned back to the road. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the steady clatter of hooves.

After a moment, he spoke again.

"What happened back there?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly.

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Really? Sounded like more than nothing."

"It was just a misunderstanding," she muttered, staring out the window.

"A rather loud misunderstanding," he remarked. "Just thought I'd remind you."

Natalie grimaced. God help me. He had heard them.

Her stomach sank. Had he heard everything? The muffled sounds, the pauses, the soft sighs she hadn't even realized she'd made?

Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

She turned to him, wary. "What exactly did you hear?"

Matthew's face was unreadable. "Nothing pleasant."

Her breath hitched.

"You sounded upset," he added. "What did he say to you?"

She hesitated, the weight of it pressing on her. "He was just being himself, and I lost patience."

Matthew scoffed. "Doubt that."

She stiffened.

"You spoke in a way you shouldn't have," he said.

She sighed. "I know. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'm sorry. "

"You're apologizing to the wrong person."

Natalie scoffed. "He wouldn't care to hear it."

"If I were him, I wouldn't."

She shot him a glare. "You're not helping."

"I'm just telling you the truth."

She let out a slow breath and rested her head against her hands. "I should just resign. I'm sure he'll dismiss me when we reach Denva."

Matthew was quiet for a moment. "Maybe. But His Grace isn't petty. If you apologize, he might forgive you."

"Not for what I said," she murmured. "He'll never forgive me for that."

"You'd be surprised."

She turned to him. "Did you hear what I said? If you had, you wouldn't say that."

"I did."

She inhaled sharply, wishing she could disappear.

"But Raphael is reasonable," Matthew said. "If you ask for his pardon, he'll listen."

Natalie bit her lip, shame creeping in again.

"What did he say to make you so angry?"

She looked away. "I don't remember."

Matthew scoffed. "That's the first lie you've told me."

She forced a shrug. "Maybe I have a short memory."

"You don't forget something that makes you react like that."

"Well, I did," she said flatly.

Matthew studied her, then sighed. "Alright. I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

Guilt twisted in her stomach. He was only trying to help, and she was pushing him away.

She cleared her throat. "He called me..." She swallowed, her throat dry. " A Harlot"

Matthew's grip on the reins tightened.

"Why?"

Natalie flushed. "Well… we…"

"Not that," Matthew interrupted quickly. "Why did it set you off?"

She swallowed hard. Her nails dug into her palms.

The truth sat on her tongue, bitter and heavy.

"It reminded me of something," she said at last. "A time I'd rather forget."

Silence filled the carriage again.

Matthew didn't press. He didn't ask for an explanation, something Natalie was grateful for. He only watched her, his expression calm. There was no pity, no judgment. Just quiet understanding.