"Actually, yes." Her smile appeared playful. "I need help with estate records."
"Worse?"
"That sounds concerning." She laughed. "Come with me."
Curious despite himself, Nathaniel followed her along a narrow path winding through the orchard. Warm evening sunlight filtered through rows of apple trees; birds chirped overhead. The peaceful setting contrasted sharply with the constant pressures of the estate.
Eventually, Genevieve stopped beside a damaged section of fencing. Several boards leaned at awkward angles. "The culprit is over there."
Nathaniel followed her gaze: a stubborn goat stared back defiantly from twenty yards away. He blinked. "A goat?"
"An escape artist."
"You brought me here for a goat?"
Genevieve nodded seriously. "The situation is dire."
Nathaniel laughed despite himself.
For the next twenty minutes, they attempted to guide the animal back toward its enclosure. The goat refused to cooperate repeatedly. By the time they finally succeeded, both were laughing—real laughter, easy laughter, the kind Nathaniel rarely experienced anymore.
Genevieve rested against the fence, catching her breath. "I feel ridiculous."
"You should."
"Thank you for your support."
"Anytime."
The smile lingering between them slowly faded into something quieter, more personal. Evening sunlight illuminated strands of hair escaping her riding hat. For a brief moment, neither spoke.
Then another voice interrupted: "I was beginning to wonder where you disappeared."
Charles approached along the orchard path. Nathaniel immediately stepped back; the shift felt instinctive, unpleasantly instinctive.
Genevieve smiled. "We were dealing with an emergency."
Charles glanced toward the goat. "I see a dangerous criminal."
"Terrifying." Genevieve laughed again.
Charles looked at her with obvious affection: not possessive, not dramatic, simply genuine. Nathaniel suddenly felt like an intruder. The realization irritated him.
Genevieve turned toward Charles. "Did you need something?"