Chapter 13 #2
Arabella stood in this room that spoke of power, wealth, and responsibility. Her responsibility. Her eyes landed on the peonies. They were truly splendid. She made her way there, to the only living thing in a strange room.
“The Duke said that you have an unlimited budget to change anything you don‘t like in the room. The same goes for the rest of the house,” Mrs. Hayes said in anticipation.
It seemed as if the whole house was holding its breath under the cold rule of the Duke. She could tell he was not harsh nor cruel, but he was distant.
“I do think the house needs some changes,” Arabella said.
Mrs. Hayes nodded in excitement and gave her a big smile.
“It would be an honor to assist you in this, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. I would wish to rest and change. If you can prepare some light breakfast for the Duke and me in the drawing room, that would be delightful.”
“Is there anything in particular that you like, Your Grace? I can inform our cooks.”
Arabella spent some time explaining her tastes to Mrs. Hayes, who took notes quite excitedly. It was strange to have a whole household attending to her needs, but she didn‘t want to be as distant as the Duke was.
Then Mrs. Hayes took Winnie to show her to her room, and the door closed behind them. Arabella was alone in her prestigious five rooms, on the east side of a huge manor, overlooking the most splendid of views. And yet she felt empty.
* * *
If she was expecting the Duke to attend the breakfast as he had asked to be prepared, she clearly had a lot to learn about the Duke.
He stayed locked in his study the whole day while she heard tea being brought up to him.
She maintained a neutral expression as the staff watched her eat her breakfast alone on her wedding day.
She tightened her fingers around the teacup before she placed it on the saucer. The soft clinking echoed in the empty room. It’s not that he had forgotten to have breakfast. He chose to have one without her. On her first day in this house.
Arabella knew that in the end she would manage to come to terms with this new situation. It was not exactly news to her that the Duke would want nothing to do with her apart from the three occasions that he so eloquently requested.
It would be childish to resent a full table and a warm house, marble floors and endless gardens. Foolish to lament silk curtains and obedient servants. Many women would envy her position without hesitation. She was not ungrateful.
After all, her marriage was not going to be cruel or even unhappy. It was going to be quiet and distant. She knew that the Duke would never hurt her; he would even protect her. That is more than many ladies of the ton enjoyed.
She had always found a way to make light where there was little of it. She would do so again. She was already thinking about how her generous Duchess allowance could be used toward the charities that she was supporting.
But this once, today, right at this moment, she could allow herself the mourning for a life devoid of warmth.
* * *
The dinner was the same. She dressed formally, as it was required of her station, with even her silk gloves in place. A Duchess never dined casually, even if she was eating alone. And she ate alone. The Duke never joined her for dinner. She was politely informed that he was eating in his study.
She almost laughed at the news. It was admirable how the Duke was committing himself to the role he had carved for himself.
She sat at one end of the long table alone, the priceless silver catching the light, the wine redder under the chandelier.
For the first time in her life, Arabella was eating alone, and she had never eaten in such opulence.
She finished the exquisite meal that was prepared for her, the servants standing in the silent room, watching her.
Then she went up to her quarters, where Winnie had drawn a bath for her, and then she changed into her nightgown.
It was Alexandra who insisted she needed a special nightgown for the first night, and she didn’t have the heart to tell her how pointless that was.
So she had picked an ivory nightgown with lace and mother-of-pearl buttons.
She dismissed Winnie and sat down to brush her hair, letting the black mane of her hair finally cascade down her shoulders.
She took the brush in her hands. Of all the things that were her mother’s, the mother she had never known, this was the one Arabella kept closest. It was as if she were there to brush her hair like a mother does for her daughter.
Her eyes glistened with ready tears, welled up from the million thoughts that went around her head. She finished and sat on the bed, looking at the fire. Winnie had explained, badly, things that she more or less knew.
What she didn’t know was whether the Duke was going to visit her.
He didn’t care to see her the rest of the day, but this was their first night as husband and wife.
Would he retreat to his chambers without even talking to her?
He had made it clear that the extent of their agreement was purely transactional.
Right before he threw her against the bookcase in his wretched study.
Arabella inhaled to control her flaring emotions. That was before. Before she agreed to this. Before he dismissed her that night. Before she became the Duchess of Albury.
She snuffed out the candles, leaving only the flames from the fireplace to shed light on the room. She grabbed the rope of her robe as she was ready to slip into her bed.
And then… a knock.