Chapter 44
The First Autumn

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Heavens above, Layla—again?!”

Startled by the shrill cry from below, Layla nearly dropped the apple she’d been about to bite into.

She just managed to clutch it before looking down. As expected, there stood Madam Mona, arms crossed tightly, glaring up at her with bulging eyes.

“Good afternoon, Madam Mona. Lovely weather today, isn’t it?”

Layla greeted her innocently, slipping the apple and her book into her bag. She climbed down the tree with practiced ease, while the lines in Mona’s brow only deepened. At that moment, Bill Remmer returned to the cottage.

“This is all your fault, Mr. Remmer!”

Mona clicked her tongue and snapped at Bill, who had just set down his cart.

“I told you—told you, as a woman who’s raised three daughters—that you needed to bring her up properly, to make a real lady out of her! And what do we have? A grown young woman, a schoolteacher no less, climbing trees like a wild child!”

“What? There’s no law saying schoolteachers can’t climb trees! A good teacher’s one who teaches well, nothing more!”

Still baffled by the situation, Bill raised his voice in protest. Ever since Layla had come to stay in Arvis, his views on raising her and Madam Mona’s had never once aligned.

Layla had half a mind to say she was already a grown woman, but instead she shuffled shyly to Bill’s side.

“See? This is exactly why she’s like this! If you’d tanned her backside when she was younger, you’d have cured her of these wicked tomboy habits!”

At that frightening declaration, Layla flinched and instinctively covered her backside. Even Bill, cowed by Mona’s fierce tone, found himself standing at Layla’s side like a boy caught misbehaving.

After a good round of scolding, Madam Mona finally handed over the basket of food she’d originally come to deliver and left. As soon as she was gone, Layla and Bill caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing.

“Feels like we both got a good smacking—just with words.”

“No kidding. From now on, you’d better climb trees in secret, Layla. With lungs like hers, a few more lectures and I’ll be deaf.”

“Yes, Uncle. I’ll do it for your sake.”

Layla nodded with mock solemnity, then carried the heavy basket lightly toward the cottage. The old tool bag hanging from her shoulder rattled in rhythm with her steps.

“That damned bag. One of these days I’ll burn it.”

Bill muttered, glaring at it once again. But the bitterness in his eyes softened into a smile of relief.

Despite his worries, Layla was living on bravely. With the new term, she had taken up the role of a fledgling teacher. At first she fumbled, made mistakes, grew discouraged—but she overcame it quickly.

Lately she even seemed to enjoy her work. Bill, who’d once feared it was too much for one so young, was able to relax. Still, he knew her too well. He knew the wound left by losing Kyle could not have healed so quickly. That old bag she clung to, unable to part with—it said everything.

Not yet.

Bill pushed Kyle’s letter back deep into his pocket.

Ever since leaving for Latz, Kyle had written faithfully, one letter a week, every week. And every time, the postman had delivered them not to Layla, but to Bill. He had asked the man for this favor, and the postman, understanding, agreed.

It was cowardly. Cruel. Unworthy of a grown man. Bill knew that. But guilt over Kyle mattered less than protecting Layla.

“Uncle!”

Layla waved from the porch. Bill gave her a sheepish smile and joined her.

Side by side, they shared an apple in the crisp, dry autumn breeze. The forest blazed with color around them.

“By the way, I think I need to speak with the butler. Could you mention it for me?”

“Butler? You mean Hessen?”

“Yes, about school business.”

Layla carefully wiped juice from her fingers with a handkerchief.

“I was asked to request permission from the Herhardt family for the children to come on a fall outing in Arvis’s woods.”

“Hessen will take care of it. I’ll tell him for you.”

“I was worried it might be rude.”

“Rude? Not at all. The ladies of the Herhardt family are generous with such things. They’ll grant it readily—they sponsor your school, after all.”

“They do?”

Layla’s eyes widened.

“The House of Herhardt sponsors my school?”

“You didn’t know? Most schools around here rely on them.”

“I see…”

She murmured faintly. The Duke’s face surged unbidden into her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut to banish it.

Here in Karlsbar, there was no escaping the name Herhardt. Not just a feeling—reality itself.

The King of Karlsbar.

That was the family’s epithet. Nobles second only to the Emperor himself. The city’s pride and its symbol.

“Why? Have they given you trouble? Did that haughty young lady bother you again?”

At Bill’s question, Layla started and shook her head quickly.

“No, nothing like that.”

But the Duke’s eyes, his breath against her, those suffocating encounters—they crowded in. She could not speak of them.

“Let’s have some tea, Uncle.”

She jumped to her feet and hurried to the kitchen before he could answer. She put water on the stove, cut slices of the cake Madam Mona had given.

The house was already dim—the days had grown short. She didn’t light a lamp, as though to hide her turmoil in the dark.

There was no need to rush.

That was Matthias’s view of Layla Llewellyn. He meant to have her, yes—but he felt no urgency.

“There she is—Miss Llewellyn.”

Mark Evers, one of his attendants, chuckled as he spotted Layla walking down the plane tree road with her students. Now that she was grown and teaching, the Arvis staff had begun to call her Miss Llewellyn.

“Must be the day of the school picnic.”

The driver chimed in.

The Dowager Duchess had given her permission readily. So had Matthias’s mother. Such matters fell within their domain, and Matthias respected that.

Layla was surrounded by children no older than she had been when she first came to Arvis. The girl who still climbed trees and dashed through woods was now playing the part of a dignified adult before her pupils.

Matthias gave a silent, mirthless laugh and turned from the window. Soon his car passed by Layla and the children, but her figure lingered in his mind long after.

Toying with Layla Llewellyn had become his greatest amusement.

The more cleverly he tormented her, the brighter her emotions flared. Whether it was shock, anger, humiliation, or fear—it mattered little. It was all more entertaining than a bland, obedient smile.

Last weekend, he’d run into her in the glass conservatory. Helping Bill with the flowerbeds, she’d been so startled at the sight of him that she dropped her basket. Bulbs spilled across the path. Bill, busy in the far beds, hadn’t noticed.

Matthias had strolled over and nudged the round bulbs toward her with the tip of his shoe. She flushed with anxiety at being seen, but still glared up at him with fire in her eyes.

Most believed Layla Llewellyn to be a meek girl incapable of harsh words. The memory made Matthias chuckle. Not bad at all. He never shared what was his. So let Layla’s sharp tongue belong to him alone.

Birds in the conservatory—Arvis’s so-called heaven—cried sweetly. Layla bent quickly, gathering the bulbs, determined to let none slip from her grasp.

When she bowed and tried to flee, Matthias stuck his foot out on impulse. She stumbled, her basket falling again. But before she could hit the ground, his arm caught her waist.

She smothered a scream, thrashing in panic. Even in this season without roses, she smelled faintly of them.

He let her go and stepped back. His gaze fell pointedly on the scattered bulbs. Layla scowled, rebellion burning in her eyes, but at last bent to pick them up.

Once more he nudged the bulbs toward her with his polished shoe. Her cheeks and eyes glowed crimson. Beautiful.

He thought it would suit her, that color—his color.

“What’s next on the schedule?”

As they neared the city, Matthias spoke.

“The board meeting, sir. It’s your last for the day.”

A satisfactory answer. Matthias checked his watch and nodded. He would be back in Arvis by early afternoon.

Stepping out of the car, he looked up. The sky was a flawless, brilliant blue. The sun was warm, the breeze cool.

A perfect day for a picnic.