Chapter 32: Secretive adult Book

The manor was unusually quiet after dinner Evelyn, restless and full of unspent energy, found herself wandering down the candlelit corridors of Wycliffe Manor.

Her feet carried her without thinking to the study.

She hesitated at the door. It was slightly ajar.

Nathaniel wasn't here, of course. He was still in London, navigating whatever silent war brewed in the palace but the room seemed steeped in his presence all the same. The heavy scent of leather, ink, and aged wood. The lingering trace of his cologne in the air. It was a room built for power; dark, richly paneled walls lined with shelves, and a massive desk set before tall windows that framed the moonlit grounds.

Evelyn stepped inside.

The warmth of the room wrapped around her, a sharp contrast to the coolness of the corridor. She walked slowly, running her fingers along the spines of the countless books. So many of them from classics in Latin, thick volumes on law and warfare, some on astronomy, and even a few on medicine.

But it was the small side shelf that was discreetly placed behind a folding screen that caught her attention.

The books here were bound in dark leather, with no titles along the spine. She tilted her head, curiosity growing. One of them had a symbol tooled into the cover: A serpent eating its tail. Odd.

She pulled it down.

The cover felt warm in her hands, almost like skin. The pages were thick, aged. The title page was vague, just a single word: Rites.

Frowning, she flipped past the first few pages… and then froze.

Her breath hitched. Her face went hot.

The text described, in exquisite and shocking detail, the positioning of a man kneeling behind a woman, one hand gripping her hip while the other traced her spine.

The paragraph that followed described another pair entangled on silk sheets, the woman straddling her lover, hair tumbling down her back as she rode him with abandon.

She turned another page and was met with an ink drawing, illustrated with skill and alarming explicitness. A woman, naked and blindfolded, wrists bound above her head, mouth open in a silent moan as a man kissed down her abdomen.

Evelyn's fingers trembled. Her cheeks flamed as she snapped the book shut.

For a breathless moment, she stood frozen, heart pounding. Her fingers tingled where they had touched the pages. It wasn't just the drawings, it was the unexpectedness of it, the suggestion that Nathaniel kept such a book in his study, tucked among politics and poetry like a private confession.

What on earth was this doing in his collection?

She stared at the cover again, heart racing, unsure if she was more shocked… or intrigued. The Duke had always seemed so cold, so controlled. But this...this book hinted at something far deeper.

She returned the book to its place quickly, setting the volume back carefully, half-afraid someone might walk in and catch her with it. Her pulse didn't settle as she backed away from the shelves, the image of those intertwined bodies seared into her mind.

Her skin still tingled.

Perhaps she ought to leave.

And yet, as she closed the study door gently behind her, Evelyn couldn't help but glance back at the shelf, at the hidden book with its serpent sigil wondering just how much she didn't know about her husband.

Evelyn walked away with a hand over her heart, her thoughts tangled and warm.

So the Duke wasn't all cold face and command after all.

Meanwhile - Juliana's Chambers

Moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains of Juliana's room, silvering the polished furniture and catching on the crystal perfume bottles scattered across her vanity. But Juliana wasn't asleep. She sat in her dressing gown, perched on the edge of her chaise, heart pounding loud enough that she swore it echoed through the quiet chambers.

Her thoughts had been circling like restless birds since dinner. The taste of Thomas's kiss lingered on her lips, sweet and daring. She touched her mouth now with her fingertips, reliving it, the way his hands had trembled just before they gripped her waist, the reverent way he'd whispered her name.

It had been madness. Madness, and yet...

Her eyes shifted toward the small clock on the mantel. Nearly midnight.

She had promised.

Gathering her shawl, Juliana crossed the room barefoot and silent. Her heart thudded in her chest as she opened the wardrobe, pulling out a plain riding cloak. It wasn't much, but it would help her blend into the shadows. She tucked her hair under the hood and slipped into soft-soled boots.

Mrs. Bramble hadn't come knocking like she usually did like she had requested. That helped.

Every creak in the floorboards felt like a trumpet call as she tiptoed down the hallway. The manor was still, servants long retired, and her brother miles away in London. Lady Rosalind's rooms were on the opposite wing. She wouldn't be caught.

Wouldn't she?

Juliana swallowed hard as she stepped out the servants' side door and into the cold, moonwashed courtyard. The air was sharp, tinged with the scent of dew and hay. Her heart leapt as she darted toward the stables.

He was there.

A single lantern hung outside, swinging slightly in the wind. Inside the warm glow of the stable, Thomas was brushing down one of the mares, his sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly open at the collar. His chestnut hair was tousled and he looked up as soon as he heard her soft steps.

"Juliana," he said in a low voice, both surprised and expectant. "You came."

She lowered the hood of her cloak slowly, her cheeks flushed with the thrill of it all. "Of course I came. I said I would, didn't I?"

Thomas hesitated, glancing briefly behind him, as if half-expecting Julio's voice to bark from the shadows. "You shouldn't be here."

"And yet," she stepped closer, her tone teasing, "you waited for me."

He laughed under his breath. "I'm a fool."

Juliana tilted her head. "Then I must be one too."

They stood close now, so close she could feel the warmth of his body under the chill of the night. The horses shuffled quietly in their stalls, oblivious to the dangerous current between them.

"My father warned me," Thomas said softly, his voice tight. "He said the Duke would kill us both if he ever found out."

Juliana's eyes sparkled. "Then I suppose we best make sure he never does."

And then she kissed him, this time with no hesitation, no flirty preamble. Her hands reached up to his face, fingers brushing the sharp edge of his jaw, and his arms locked around her waist like he had been waiting all day to do just that.

Their kiss was deeper this time, bolder. The tension that had been simmering between them since their first forbidden touch now spilled over, wild and intoxicating.

"Juliana," he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at her, "if this continues, I won't be able to stop."

"Then don't," she whispered.

But he didn't press further. Not yet. He wrapped her in his arms instead, holding her close in the stable's warm silence. For a long time, they simply stood like that, the noble girl and the stable boy hidden in a world of straw and moonlight, knowing the risks and tasting the sweetness of danger anyway.

Juliana would return to the manor before dawn.

But for now, in this stolen moment, nothing existed beyond them.