The next afternoon, Fiona was seated with Lord Winston—he rarely left her alone. Most of the time, she didn't mind...even the duchess's disgruntlement over his attentions only amused her. But today was not one of those days.

Ever since he'd left her in the maze yesterday, the Duke had been different. She didn't catch him staring at her at inopportune times. He didn't try to seek her out with one excuse or another. He didn't stare at Lord Winston when he tried to monopolise on her time.

If anything, he was directing all of his attention on his fiancé—as it should've been. He'd whisper in her ear and spend as much time with her as possible. Lady Sophia was looking at her smugly but she wasn't torturing Fiona with any snide remarks.

She should be relieved, she knew. To have the Duke ignore her was what she'd wanted from the start. He was treating her as if she was no more than his mother's companion—and she was. Fiona knew her place. But that didn't mean her heart didn't ache.

It was physical—the pain. Her throat felt like it was clogged and she just wanted to scream and cry just to release the hurt.

She was surprised by the force of her reaction. She'd never been too sorrowful or emotional. Even when the times were hard, she would find a way to laugh it off.

Being desolate wasn't something she was familiar with.

"You seem upset, Fiona. Is everything alright?" Lord Winston asked, a concerned expression on his face.

Fiona nodded tightly, but her eyes didn't move from the sight before her.

Lord Winston followed the line of her vision and immediately understood. It was the Duke. He was feeding some pastry to Lady Sophia who took little bites.

"Fiona..." he began but she held up her hand. He knew. He knew and he wasn't angry. He sounded sympathetic. But Fiona didn't want sympathy.

"I'm fine. You worry needlessly. I just need some fresh air," she said and shot him an apologetic glance and stood.

"Would you like me to come along with you?"

"No, I wish to be alone."

She didn't wait to hear his response.

She exited the hall and wandered outside. Where was she to go?

Her feet automatically began carrying her towards the stables.

Although she couldn't ride, Fiona had discovered that she enjoyed being in the company of horses. They soothed her. After the house party had begun, Fiona would often visit the stables.

She hoped it would be empty at this time.

Fiona immediately went to her favourite filly's stall.

"Hello, Cindy," she smiled and the horse neighed happily. She began to lip at Fiona's hair as soon as she was close enough.

"I didn't bring you any apples today, I'm afraid," she grinned.

The horse let out what seemed like a sigh but seemed content to allow Fiona to brush her.

After a while of confessing her feelings to Cindy and crying, Fiona was ready to go back to the hall.

Except, she heard a voice.

"Where are you, darling? I've been looking for you."

Baron Redgrave.

Fiona retreated back into the stall.

There was only one reason the Baron would seek her out. Oh this was awful.

She'd been able to defend herself when she'd been in his employment. She used to be careful to avoid empty rooms and even when he did end up catching her alone, she'd known that help was only a a few seconds away—all she'd have to do was scream. And so even the Baron hadn't tried anything too serious—just a grope here and there.

But now...she was alone. She didn't know where the stable master was.

She had nobody who could help her and the despicable man knew it.

"I know you're in there. There's no point hiding, love. You know I'll find you. And once I find you..." he trailed off meaningfully.

Fiona frantically searched the stall for something she could use to protect herself.

Nothing.

All she had was hay.

Goodness gracious, this was a disaster.

In a few seconds, the stall door swung open and the Baron stood before her, his white teeth flashing, his eyes pure evil.

Fiona stood up.

She waited for the fear to settle in. But it never came. All she felt was anger. Anger and hatred towards this man who'd terrorised her during her youth. He didn't look quite so frightening now. And she'd be damned if she let him lay a hand on her.

She couldn't allow him to enter the stall—then she'd be trapped.

"Oh, Baron Redgrave, it was you," she sighed and took a step forward, as if relieved that it was only him.

"Were you expecting someone else?" he asked, his brow rising doubtfully.

"Well, of course." Another step. Now she was was in line with the door frame.

"Who? The Duke? I can see you've been trying to seduce him as well—I'm not the only victim to your wiles," he smiled and took a step toward her.

"Yes. I'm glad it is you and not him—but I'm sure he must be on his way at this very moment."

"Well, then I better not waste any time, huh?" he grinned and lunged at her.

"In your dreams," Fiona shouted and ducked under his arm. She knew she couldn't outrun him.

"You ungrateful bitch! You found a position here only because of me and I shall collect my fees," he shouted and ran after her.

There was a pitch fork positioned near the

wall and Fiona ran towards it. She grabbed it at once and pointed it at the man.

He came to an abrupt halt.

"You wouldn't use that," he smiled.

"If you think that, then you don't know me very well."

"Put it down!"

"Not before I puncture you with it," Fiona laughed gleefully.

"Bloodthirsty, aren't you?"

She whirled around to see the Duke standing there. And although he looked to be in control, Fiona could see the rage radiating off him in waves.

"This mad woman is trying to kill me, your grace! She offered me a tumble but when I declined, she began to threaten me with this," the Baron whined, sounding every inch the distressed victim.

"He's lying," Fiona growled, aiming her makeshift weapon at him again.

"Put down the pitch fork, Fiona," he said to her even as his eyes rested on the Baron. "I don't want you to inadvertently hurt yourself," he added more softly when she began to protest.

Fiona felt the pitchfork sliding from her hand.

"He's lying, your grace."

"I swear upon my honour that she was trying to seduce me and I said no," the Baron put in, confident that he had the upper hand.

"That's funny, Redgrave. Because the last I heard, you had no honour," the Duke said softly. And when the Baron's eyes widened, the Duke took two steps forward and punched him in the face. His nose began bleeding and he crumpled to the ground.

Fiona thought he was done but he apparently wasn't because he sat atop the Baron and began punching him repeatedly.

"How dare you try and assault her? You think you could get away with something like this in my own house? You think I wouldn't find out?" he growled between punches. His entire face was covered by a mask of rage.

"You're going to end up killing him," Fiona moved towards him although she'd been tempted to do the same a few minutes ago.

She didn't want this man's death on her conscience, horrible as he was. And she didn't want the Duke to bear the burden of that either—especially not for her.

Already her heart was weakening further as she saw him defending her honour so fiercely.

She lay a hand on his shoulder and he instantly stilled.