Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Agnes followed him through the corridors, trying to keep up with his brisk pace as he led her to his study.
This… this was not how she had expected this day to go.
As much as she had tried not to orchestrate any sort of plans that involved her performing certain actions or using specific words in order to charm him as her godmother had suggested, she had hoped that they would have been able to meet properly and speak freely.
But then they had argued and even –
She shook her head, chasing away the thought of his lips on hers, willing herself not to falter or back down from her initial wishes.
Nothing had changed; she still needed him to reunite with her sisters, and this marriage was something she needed to see through till the end. They both shared responsibility for their fight on the road and so, the wisest thing to do would be to start afresh.
She only hoped he saw it that way, too.
Finally, they arrived at the study, and he opened the door for her, urging her inside.
She walked in, startled when he shut the door loudly behind them and locked it, moving to the table that held bottles of spirits and wine.
He plucked a bottle of whiskey from the tray and poured himself a glass, downing it right away and pouring another.
She regarded him for a moment and then asked,
“Will you not offer me a drink as well?”
Silas snorted, lifting the glass to his lips.
“This liquor is far too strong for someone as delicate as yourself. Perhaps some sherry or lemonade would suit you better.”
Anger bubbled up in her chest and spread quickly, setting her tongue loose as she stepped closer to him.
“You really are an incorrigible petty man. I’d hoped that it was the situation that had urged you to speak the way you had to me earlier, but as it turns out, you are simply nonchalant and rude at every chance you get,” she snapped.
“And you are far too opinionated about things you know nothing about. Perhaps if you had simply minded your concerns, things would be a lot smoother for us right now. But your insistence to be heard, to speak, is a tiring trait that I will not be so tolerant of – especially if we are to be married.”
“So I am to just stay mum about the fact that you are discourteous and disrespectful? How is our marriage supposed to thrive like that?” she questioned with wide eyes.
Silas sighed, looking as though he would rather do anything, be anywhere else than right there with her.
“I do not know what your motivations were for this marriage, but I have my reasons that have led me to this decision. And despite your grating voice and inability to be agreeable, I will keep my word and still marry the eldest spinster daughter of the late Earl of Lockheart,” He held up a hand as her lips parted and continued to speak, “However, our marriage will be one that is only official on paper, void of any connection or relations outside that.”
Silas paused, waiting for her to react the way she seemed to do with everything else – noisily and strongly. But she just stared back at him and nodded, slowly and surely.
“If that is what you wish, then I am fine with that.”
He frowned, unable to keep himself from asking, “You are?”
“I am. Because I, too, have something to gain from this marriage. I have two younger sisters, and we were separated two years ago. If you give me your word that you will help me reconnect with my sisters, I will marry you,” she said calmly.
Her lack of disappointment was surprising, but Silas decided not to look the gift horse in the mouth, accepting her terms and the ease that came with finally being able to settle on one thing with her without arguing.
“You have my word,” he replied, holding his hand out.
She glanced at it, almost hesitating, and then reached out to shake his hand, her smaller fingers curling around his gently. Silas found himself holding onto her for longer than he needed to, drawn to the softness of her skin, almost disappointed when she pulled away.
“Three weeks,” he blurted out, trying to regain his composure. “We will get married in three weeks. We should begin preparations for the ceremony as soon as possible.”
“That is an acceptable idea. I will speak with my godmother and the Dowager Duchess about it tonight,” she agreed, her acceptance still filling him with an odd sense of unease.
It is good, he tried to remind himself. In as much as they seemed to not get along right from the start, she seemed to be just as in need of this marriage as he was, and if she was making some attempts to be as civil as possible, the least he could do was accept her wish to behave so and do his part to ensure peaceful coexistence.
This way, there were no complications, and no more toes would be threaded upon.
“All right, see that you do. The household staff are at your beck and call. Whatever you need, simply ask, and it will be provided.”
She nodded but remained standing where she was, confusing him.
“Is there something you need?” he questioned uncertainly.
She appeared almost… reluctant to speak, seemingly forcing herself to get the words out in a single breath.
“We were not formally introduced. I mean – I know who you are. I’ve known ever since I was told about our marriage. But…”
She trailed off, looking lost, and something in him greatly disliked that expression on her face.
“Silas. I am Silas Oakley, Duke of Forestwood,” he paused and added as a quick afterthought, “my lady.”
The way he spoke was much gentler than the harsh words they had spat at each other on the road and the cold tone he used to order his servants around, and something inside her greatly warmed up at the sound of it.
“Lady Agnes Fitzroy, Your Grace. Eldest daughter of the Earl of Lockheart.” She curtsied, praying that this would be enough to somewhat compensate for their rough beginning. “I hope our marriage will be able to provide us with what we’re after as quickly and as peacefully as possible.”
That was a sentiment Silas found that he could agree with.
“As do I.”
“Oh, there you are,” Lady Anna smiled up at her goddaughter. “How did it go? Isn’t he just an absolute dream?”
“He seems a lot more like a nightmare to me, but we’ve never shared like minds in the past, so I’m not surprised we cannot agree on this either,” Agnes stated emotionlessly, sinking into a settee as the day’s exhaustion finally caught up with her.
Her lady’s maid had been waiting for her outside the Duke’s study, quickly showing her to her room, after which she took a hot bath and changed into a new set of clothes for dinner.
She would have rather retired for the night, but she had yet to meet the Dowager Duchess, and it was important to make a good impression on her – seeing as her chances of doing that with the Duke himself had been shot.
But she was at least thankful to be warm and dry, relieved that the itchy sensation of the wet fabric against her skin was long gone, freeing her mind from the lingering irritation enough for her to be able to think of… other things.
“Isn’t it just wonderful that you both were able to meet the way you did?
I told you he was a kind man. It was thoughtful of him to bring you here after finding you out in the rain.
Speaking of – why were you even out there?
I told you to wait inside the carriage for us.
You could have caught a cold.” Lady Anna huffed in concern.
Agnes contemplated telling her that the Duke’s concern had come as an afterthought – considering she would have preferred him to show his horse before he took him riding out in the rain. But that conversation would just open up a door she could not shut, so she leaned back and said,
“I was trying to fix the wheel to save us time. I thought it would be better if it were done by the time you had returned so we would be on our way. The Duke was certainly… thoughtful in the face of my plight.”
Lady Anna grinned and clapped her hands excitedly. “You both will make a wonderful couple.”
“I certainly hope so,” Agnes muttered. “I have a lot waged on this marriage.”
Her godmother seemed to have heard her, and her pleased expression dropped into something that resembled exasperation, but before she could speak up, the door opened, and a woman walked in. Lady Anna’s gaze shifted, and she rose quickly, stepping closer to the new arrival with open arms.
“Alexandra! My goodness, you look wonderful!” Lady Anna gushed as she walked into the embrace, holding the Dowager Duchess close.
“As do you, darling! Heavens, how do you always manage to look younger every time we meet?” Alexandra questioned, pulling back slightly and holding her friend by the shoulders at arm's length.
“Dearest, I wonder the same thing about you. Share your secrets with me,” Anna whispered conspiratorially, the corners of her eyes crinkling in delight.
“Later,” the Dowager Duchess promised, shifting her gaze to Agnes. “Is this your goddaughter?”
Agnes had risen as they greeted each other and shuffled closer as the attention shifted to her, feeling nervous as she curtsied.
“Your Grace –”
“Oh, nonsense,” Alexandra tutted in dismissal, reaching out to pull Agnes up into a tight hug. “You are going to marry my grandson, and you will become the new Duchess of Forestwood. We are practically family already.”
Agnes nodded when she was released from the embrace, appreciating the warmth from the Dowager Duchess but unable to chase away the feeling of weariness over the realization that her godmother and her friend were a lot alike.
Her concerns were proven to be justified when the Duke’s grandmother clapped her hands, leaning forward with interest glimmering in her eyes.
“How do you find my grandson? Did your first meeting with him go well? Are you already falling for him?”
Agnes blinked, the nervousness returning with full force as she thought of what to say, not wanting to lie but also not fond of the idea of divulging the details of her exchange with the Duke.