Chapter Twenty-Three
She kneeled in awe at Gaethryn’s feet, which hovered above the mossy banks and twinkled in the darkness.
“Amsonia. A name that means Blue Star. Come closer, my dear. I want to look at you.”
Though she was struck nearly dumb by the Faery Queen’s starry beauty and frightened by her protective cadre of unicorn guards, it was imperative that she receive an answer to the burning question at hand. She crept closer.
“O my queen! However does one turn a dragon to one’s bidding?”
—The Dragon and the Blue Star by Analise Crewe
Ana awoke in her bed. Alone. He’d said he’d never spend the night with her, that it was against the rules.
She’d work on that—find a way to make him stay.
She’d just have to make him so exhausted that he fell asleep.
Her whole body hummed with aftershocks of pleasure.
They hadn’t consummated the marriage, but surely they’d done everything else.
Or at least he’d done everything else to her. She hadn’t been allowed to touch him.
Why hadn’t he consummated the marriage last night? She’d gotten the impression that his experience had been less pleasurable than hers, in terms of . . . what had he called it? Climax. She’d had several . . . he’d had none.
He held himself so firmly in check. Preferring to always be in control.
He was a wounded warrior, wrapped up in his codes of honor, wearing his rules like a badge, his silence like a shield.
Giving orders instead of conversing, as if he were still on the battlefield.
Perhaps he was, in his mind. Maybe he’d never left his position as cavalry commander.
All the rules he’d made—she couldn’t touch him, he visited her only in darkness, he would never sleep the night with her in her bed.
She had agreed to the terms of this marriage of convenience. She had agreed that it wasn’t a love match. He had pretended to be her invented fiancé to save her reputation and gain her the publishing contract she’d wanted for so long. And she’d agreed to attempt to give him an heir.
She wasn’t a sophisticated, beautiful society lady born and bred to be his duchess.
She was unpolished, brash of speech, all clashing freckles and red hair.
She never moderated her speech. She wasn’t the least bit diplomatic.
She should be hosting balls and foreign dignitaries and being a duchess.
She should be grateful that he wasn’t demanding she be someone she wasn’t. She was luckier than many.
And yet . . . the love matches. The true love matches. His friends the Duke and Duchess of Osborne—Dalton and Thea. The way they smiled at each other, the way they argued with such laughing familiarity.
His rules were a challenge flag thrown down. And she was not one to back down from a challenge.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Tessie said, pulling the bed-curtains aside.
“I told you not to call me that,” Ana said with a yawn. “I’ve never been graceful in my life. You called me Ana in London, please continue to do so here.”
“I’ll try to remember, Your . . . Ana. I suppose it’s the castle, so grand a setting! I can hardly believe we’re here. And how are you this morning?” Her question was laced with other questions, about how she’d fared during the wedding night, about why the duke wasn’t still in her bed.
“I could use some chocolate.”
“It’s a good thing I brought a pot with me then.” She helped Ana out of bed and into a silk robe and cozy slippers.
Ana sipped the chocolate, sweetened with sugar and frothy with milk, remembering how she’d used to think that drinking chocolate must be one of the most satisfying pleasures available to a girl.
Now she knew otherwise. It was still delicious . . . but it paled in comparison to the secrets she’d learned last night. Some things in life were actually better than chocolate.
“Warburton knows the man who makes this chocolate, did you know that, Tessie? We could even tour his factory together.”
“Could we swim in a pool made of chocolate?”
“I can imagine us swimming around with our mouths open like fishes . . .”
They both giggled, picturing the scene. Then Tessie sobered. “He shouldn’t have left you alone on the morning after your wedding night.”
“He’s very busy, though. Off riding the estate, in the absence of his steward.”
“Of course he is, I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place to comment.”
“I’ll stay busy, too. Mrs. Hedges is giving me a tour of the kitchens. Mustn’t start off on the wrong foot with the staff.”
“They are all disposed to be kindly toward you. I think the staff view you as their best hope of restoring His Grace to his former self. He was greatly changed during the war.”
“Yes, Cloris and Agnes mentioned as much. How are you getting on with them and the other staff?”
Tessie dimpled involuntarily into her cup of chocolate. “There’s one footman that I find rather agreeable.”
“Tessie! Do you have an amour already?”
“Not yet, it’s so soon. We hardly know each other. But when his eyes fall on me—oh! It’s thrilling.”
“Which one? Tom? Or the other young handsome one . . . what was his name?”
“George. George Armstrong,” she said dreamily. “Isn’t that a wonderful name? Armstrong—so powerful!”
Ana laughed. “Most definitely.”
“He’s a local lad, born not far from the castle. He’s been working here for a few years. He’s promised to take me under his wing, show me the ropes.”
“I’m sure he has. Just be careful, Tessie. Make sure he’s a good and honest fellow.”
“I have a feeling about him. You just know, don’t you? He’s not like that Tom, who knows he’s handsome and uses it to tease all the maids and put them in a flurry. My George is modest and hardworking.”
“‘My George,’ is it?”
Tessie’s smile widened. “I shouldn’t put the cart before the horse, eh? It’s only been one day. But Ana, just think! If we were to marry, I’d be Theresa Armstrong. No more Tessie Alcox.”
“Do you mind your family name so very much?” teased Ana, enjoying this window into her friend’s life.
“Oh, I loved my family, of course I did!” Tessie said reproachfully. “I miss them every day. But you can’t imagine how much I was teased by those vile village louts growing up! ‘Tessie Alcox, will you test all our—’” She blushed. “You can imagine the rest.”
Ana laughed in sympathy. “Children can be cruel, boys disgustingly so.”
Tessie took her leave, and Ana was left alone with her thoughts and the pot of rapidly cooling chocolate.
Theresa Alcox. The name had lodged itself in her mind.
She’d never known Tessie’s surname before.
Theresa Alcox. Something about it nudged her, not hard enough to dislodge any particular memory, just enough to annoy.
She shook her head. What she needed was fresh air and physical activity that was not accomplished in bed.
“I think I’ll take a walk around the grounds after my tour of the kitchens,” she announced to Cloris and Agnes, as they helped her into a sage green muslin day dress.
“Very good, Your Grace,” Cloris replied. “We’ll have your cloak and bonnet readied.”
The late autumn breeze was blissfully brisk and bracing. Ana breathed deeply, filling her lungs. Her bonnet, gloves, and thick cashmere shawl kept her warm enough.
He’d left her alone all day, after doing those things to her.
She shivered, remembering the things he’d said to her, the things she’d done willingly, asking for more. Why couldn’t they lie abed together of a morning? Perhaps eat breakfast together in bed from a tray. Honeymooning couples did that sort of thing, did they not?
To stave off the loneliness seeping into her mind, she’d asked Cloris and Agnes along. They flanked her in their great black bonnets like two kindly crows, answering her questions and matching her pace.
The grounds were gorgeous, well-kept and pristinely ordered.
She’d expected nothing less of the duke’s estate.
From the edge of its orchards on the farthest side, the hill sloped downward toward a peaceful-looking valley.
In the distance, atop a pleasant purple field of heather, there was a comfortable-looking estate, not terribly large but perfectly situated, with attractive grounds and a river snaking along one side.
“Who are our neighbors in the valley?” she asked.
“Why, that’s the duke’s brother Rupert, it is!” they responded, in almost perfect unison. “But we never see him, there’s no love lost between the two,” Cloris added. The women shot stern looks at each other, a tacit agreement to speak no further hanging in the air.
“How terrible. What was their falling out regarding?”
“They have their reasons and are right stubborn about reinforcing them, as men always are! But it’s none of our affair, really.”
“He’s our affair!”
“Yes, but his affairs are his own.” They nodded wisely on either side of Ana.
“Does the duke ever host visitors here?”
“Never,” Cloris replied. “Not even his closest friends from London. That’s why you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw you emerge from that carriage.
A sweet young thing like you. He’d sworn never to marry until he absolutely had to.
Swore it up and down. And now here you are.
You’ll bring life to this gloomy old castle. Life and love and . . .”
The two sisters glanced at each other.
“Babies,” Agnes finished her sister’s sentence.
“Yes, adorable sweet fat cooing babies,” Cloris enthused. “We want babies to cuddle and babies to sing to, and babies to rock in the cradle.”
“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Agnes warned.
“When the duke was a little lad, he had such a ready laugh. Now he rarely even smiles. That’s why we’re so happy that you’re here. Just look at you. You can’t go ten minutes without smiling. You’re determined to be joyful and that’s just what he needs.”
“He’ll probably leave me here and return to London,” Ana said. “Do you know what he does there? I was unable to ascertain his whereabouts most of the time. I did visit his club, however, and observed him bareknuckle boxing.”