Claire hesitated.
That hesitation irritated him now—not because she was withholding something, but because he recognized it as the moment when she decided whether speaking was worth the risk.
“And what?” he prompted.
“And it is a poor place for the road.”
Duke blinked.
No one at the breakfast had spoken to him that directly all day.
“Why?”
“The ground floods after heavy spring rain.
Not every year, but often enough.
The old tenant farmers built higher for a reason.
If your engineers studied only the recent surveys, they may have missed it.”
Duke leaned back.
“How certain are you?”
“Very.”
He thought about the memorandum waiting on his desk.
Then he smiled.
“Tomorrow you can show me.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You believe me?”
“I believe you know the land better than an engineer who visited it twice.”
Something shifted in her face.
Small enough that another man might have missed it.
Duke did not.
The following morning, breakfast was served at eight.
No photographers waited outside.
No society guests whispered behind napkins.
Claire arrived in a dark green morning dress and paused when she saw two place settings beside the window.
Duke was reading the riverfront memorandum.
He put it down.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
She sat.
A servant poured coffee.
For several minutes, they ate quietly.
Then Duke slid the memorandum across the table.
“The engineers insist the lower ridge is acceptable.”
Claire opened it.
“They’re wrong.”
There was no hesitation this time.
Duke felt the corner of his mouth lift.
“That is a strong opening argument.”
Claire looked at him over the paper.
“Would you prefer a polite one?”
“No.”
She turned the first page.
“Good.
Because their drainage estimates are nonsense too.”
Duke laughed.
Claire did not retreat from the sound.
She began explaining the land as she remembered it—where water pooled, which roads survived winter, which fields looked dry in summer but became mud in April.
Duke listened, interrupting only to ask questions.
The woman who had barely spoken through her own wedding breakfast talked for nearly twenty minutes.
Nothing magical happened between them that morning.
Claire did not suddenly forgive the bargain that had brought her to Alden House.
Duke did not become a different man merely because he had dismissed his mistress.
Trust was not created by a single respectable decision after years of entitlement.
