Chapter 23 #2
“Only a day or two. He mainly wanted to consult me about a new steward for his estate and see how we manage things here in practice. The old steward at Hawcrest has apparently been fiddling the books and mismanaging the rents. Levi has rightly given the man his marching orders but the Dowager Duchess of Hawcrest and her clan are up in arms all over again.”
“They were happy for the old duke and his tenants to be robbed blind, were they?” Dorian asked contemptuously. “Well, I wish the new Duke of Hawcrest luck in his dealings with them.”
“I’m sure Levi will manage well enough, with or without luck. Once he has set his mind to something, he tends not to stop. All the Dowager Duchess of Hawcrest’s needling and insults about his low birth slide off him like water. No one will stop him putting Hawcrest into good order.”
“He sounds like a man after my own heart,” commented Dorian with a smile. “I look forward to making his acquaintance.”
When an Ashbourne Castle maid brought in a tray piled with freshly baked bread, cheese and ham, Dorian suddenly realized that he was very hungry after all.
When the food was gone and a footman came to announce that his bath was ready, Dorian rose and stretched.
“There is one more thing I should tell you, Dorian, before the rest of the party return from their walk,” said Cassius, his expression growing serious again as he accompanied his guest to the library door.
“Let it wait until I am an entirely civilized human being once more,” put in the Duke of Ravenhill, politely but firmly, smiling but taking hold of the library door handle. “Then you shall have my full attention.”
“Be it on your own head,” warned the Duke of Ashbourne, letting him go.
Already knowing the house well, Dorian went upstairs to his usual room as Cassius looked after him with folded arms and a meditative expression.
An hour later, washed, shaved and dressed in clean clothes, Dorian felt almost restored to normality. He could almost imagine that he was still at the Ashbourne Castle house party last autumn and everything since then had been a peculiar dream.
What if he had never met Lady Rose Williams, never married her against both of their inclinations, and certainly never bedded her with such extreme pleasure?
Descending the stairs with this conceit in his mind, Dorian was briefly free again.
He found, however, that this imaginary state did not bring the expected relief.
Instead, the thought of a life without Rose was stagnant and empty.
It felt like a hackneyed and repetitive play where the cast was only going through the motions, again and again, without real feeling or creativity.
This realization that he did not really wish to live without his wife baffled and unnerved him for a few moments. Then, on turning to the last flight of stairs, Dorian saw a sight in the hallway below that stopped him dead and wiped all such theoretical musings from his head.
Three women and one man in outdoor clothing had just come in from the gardens, evidently Josephine and her guests returning from a long post-luncheon walk.
The single man in the party supported a young blonde-haired woman on his arm, his attitude solicitous and her face very pale and tired as though the exertion had exhausted her more than the others.
Dorian had known or guests at the identities of all the party at a single glance but his attention was all for the blonde woman who should not have been there at all. His blood flooded with welcome for the sight of her but also concern, and an immediate resentment for the man at her side.
“Rose!” he exclaimed, hastily descending the stairs. “What are you doing here?”
Was she ill? Had the fall from Clio been more serious than Dorian had realized after all, and Josephine had brought her here to convalesce? The guilt that question could arouse was almost crippling.
“Dorian!” Rose responded to his call in equal surprise, her large blue eyes opening wide at the sight of him, quickly filled with welcome and relief. “You’re here. I did not know. How good that you are here!”
The flurry of greetings to the Duke of Ravenhill from the rest of the group were lost on Dorian entirely.
If the Duke of Hawcrest had not already relinquished Rose’s arm by the time Dorian reached her, he might have physically pushed the man away from her.
His rationality felt as though it was hanging by a thread.
Whatever Levi Collins’ intentions, and regardless of the circumstances, it felt as though the Duke of Hawcrest had usurped his own place beside Rose.
“You do not look well, Rose,” Dorian blurted, placing her hand on his arm but refraining from the fuller embrace he longed for. “What is wrong?”
“I am only a little tired,” Rose claimed.
“You did insist on completing the full circuit, Duchess Rose,” remarked Levi Collins, with a friendly and open smile on a face with green-blue eyes and sandy hair. “I would have brought you back to the house an hour ago, if you had permitted it.”
“You have been very kind, Levi,” Rose told her previous escort. “But I do believe the fresh air was better for me than sitting indoors alone. I have had too much of that lately I hope you do not think me foolish.”
“I think nothing of the sort,” replied Levi Collins gallantly, with a small bow and smile that made Dorian’s blood boil as much as hearing his wife call this man by his Christian name. “I was only glad to be of service and for the extended pleasure of your company.”
Before Dorian had time either to fully comprehend or act on his annoyance with the Duke of Hawcrest, Cassius Emerton emerged from the library and came towards them with a broad smile.
“Ah, you are all back. Excellent. Do take off your outdoor clothes and join me in the library. There will be tea directly. You have found your wife and met the Duke of Hawcrest already, I see, Dorian.”
At this Dorian remembered his manners and bowed stiffly to Levi Collins, baffled by own reaction to the man and forcing himself through the usual social hoops.
“Not quite, although it seems my wife knows the Duke of Hawcrest well already,” Dorian said pointedly out before he could stop himself, causing Rose and Levi Collins equal confusion. “I am glad to make your acquaintance at last, Levi Collins.”
The Duke of Hawcrest returned his bow and Dorian did not miss the shooting of a raised eyebrow to Cassius in inquiry to Dorian’s tone. Christ, what was wrong with him? Five minutes earlier he had felt almost perfectly composed and now he was acting the jealous husband in a bad play.
“Oh, enough of all this nonsense,” pronounced Duchess Josephine cheerfully, never one to stand on ceremony or indulge in overcomplicated emotional conversations. “I have no idea what you are all talking about but I feel the need for my tea and a warm fire and I think it would do Rose good too.”
Stealing Rose away from both men, she guided her friend to the library where Cassius held open the door. When Rose turned her head and looked to Dorian, he had no choice but to follow.