Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“ W elcome to Nottington Castle, Your Grace.”
The words took Leah by shock, even though they shouldn’t have. After hours in the carriage, they had finally arrived at their destination, and Leah had stiffly stepped down from the carriage and followed the footman up the steps to the front door, where the butler had greeted her. He was not bowing low, a warm smile on his face.
“Please forgive the cold and darkness,” the butler said, smiling apologetically. “His Grace only informed us the house was to be opened yesterday, and we were not able to get it as warm and comfortable for you as we would have liked.”
“I’m sure you did an excellent job, Jeffires,” a voice said from behind Leah, and she turned to see the Duke--her husband!--coming in through the front door of the house. He must have also just arrived in his separate carriage. He looked tired, and he didn’t so much as glance at Leah. “Would you ask Mrs. Wilson to show the Duchess to her room? And to send up a tray as well, in case Her Grace is hungry.”
“Thank you,” Leah said, trying to catch her husband’s eye, but he still wouldn’t look at her. “But I’m not hungry.” She seemed to have lost her appetite entirely. Even the long, cold journey had not brought it back.
“You will eat,” the Duke said, finally looking at her. “I will not have your brother saying I starved you.”
He then turned back to the butler. “Is my study ready?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The Duke nodded, then began to walk away across the hall, leaving Leah staring after him in disbelief. Is that it?
She couldn’t believe how rude and careless he was being. This was her first time in her new home, and he was not easing that transition at all. But she supposed she would see him in a few hours, in order for them to make the marriage official. The thought made her stomach drop, and she tried to push away the thought.
A few moments later, Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, appeared, and she brought Leah up through the house to her bedroom. The house was indeed very cold and dark, but Leah could see, even in the dimness, that it was very grand. Perhaps a little old-fashioned, but certainly grand. Her room, too, was so huge that when she first entered, she nearly gasped. The furnishings were very beautiful, in the style of Louis XVI, everything gilded with gold and rich red velvet.
“And that is the door that connects you to His Grace’s room,” Mrs. Wilson said, nodding at a door on the far side of the room.
Leah swallowed. “Right…”
“Would you care to bathe, Your Grace? And have a tray sent up?”
Leah nodded, and soon, a hot bath had been drawn for her and a tray of food brought up. The bath did much to ease her aches and pains from the journey, but she was still too nervous to eat anything. However, she managed to choke down some bread and cheese, because she knew it would please her husband. Then her maid helped her change into one of her most beautiful silk nightrails. Because of the haste of the wedding, she hadn’t been able to put together as large of a wedding trousseau as she would have liked, but this night rail was particularly flattering. It was pink silk and made her skin look as white and glowing as the moon.
Her maid left, and Leah sat on the edge of her bed, waiting.
Another half an hour passed, and still, she waited. She grew cold and got under the covers, where she continued to wait. At last, she heard the door to the bedroom next door open and someone come inside. Her husband. My husband. The words sent a shiver down her spine. At any moment now, he would open the door between their chambers and come into her room.
But he didn't. Another quarter of an hour passed without anything happening. Leah was now starting to grow impatient. As nervous as she was, she didn’t want to prolong this.
So at last, she got up out of bed and walked to the door. Pressing her ear against it, she listened closely. Someone was definitely moving around on the other side. Hesitantly, she raised a hand, and knocked.
At once, the movement stopped. She waited, but nothing happened. Her impatience growing, she raised her hand and knocked again, this time more insistently.
The sound of footsteps approached, and then the door was flung open, and Leah found herself face-to-face with the Duke of Nottington.
To her surprise, he was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to his wedding, and there was a strong smell of liquor coming off of him. Has he been drinking? The thought made her feel even worse than she already did, if that was possible.
“Yes?” He asked, when she continued to stare at him, no words coming out.
“I--I thought we should talk,” she said. “We have barely spoken to one another, and we are married now. I thought--”
“There is nothing to talk about,” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “We are married, and you are safe from Lord Dubois. From now on, we shall lead our separate lives, as dukes and duchesses often do.”
With that, he turned away and walked back into his bedchamber. Leah stared after him, her indignation growing.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, stepping into his bedchamber. He stopped at once, turning around slowly to face her. She put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean that we shall be living our separate lives? We are husband and wife!”
The Duke drew himself up. “You told me that you would rather be a spinster than married to Lord Dubois. Do you recall that?”
“Yes…” Leah said slowly. What does that have to do with now? I am married, not a spinster!
“Well, I asked you that because marriage to me will be as if you are a spinster. We will not live as husband and wife. You will, however, be free to pursue your own life and interests. And you will have all the comfort and privilege of being a married woman and a duchess. But other than that, you shall be as you are now: a maiden. We will live separately.”
“But…” Leah could barely wrap her mind around what he was saying. It couldn’t be true. “What about children?” she asked in a very small voice. “How will we have children, and your heir, if we do not live as man and wife?”
The Duke’s look was so cold that she felt it like an icicle to her chest. “We will not be having any children.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Will His Grace be coming to luncheon this afternoon?” Leah asked the butler, even though she already knew the answer. The butler, Mr. Smith, bowed his head in apology.
“I’m afraid not, Your Grace. His Grace has a great deal of work to do today and requested that luncheon be brought to him in his study.”
“Right…” Leah swallowed and tried not to let the hurt and confusion show on her face. “Very well, then. Thank you, Mr. Smith.”
The butler bowed and stepped back from the table, allowing Leah to contemplate the meal in front of her. It looked delicious, as all the meals had since she had come to Nottington Castle. The Duke was certainly not someone who scrimped on the finer things in life. However, it had been difficult for her to enjoy her meals--or enjoy anything, really--when she was partaking in all of them alone.
It had been three days since they had arrived at the Castle, and so far, she had barely seen her husband. Except for a few glances of him here and there, she had not been in his presence, and he had spoken only a few short words to her in greeting. All of it had left Leah feeling hurt and irritated, but most of all, bored. There was nothing for her to do here by herself. She had grown up with two sisters and a brother. Boredom was not something she was used to, and now, to find herself with nothing and no one to amuse her, she felt as if she were crawling out of her skin.
Which was to say nothing of the blazing anger she felt whenever she thought about her husband’s final words to her their first night at the Castle, right before he had ordered her back to her room: “We will not be having any children.”
It couldn’t be true. There was no way a duke would give up an heir. And she knew the duke’s reputation. It wasn’t possible that a man like that had that kind of self-control.
He just said that to hurt me, or to scare me, because he’s still angry at me for entrapping him in this marriage.
This is what she had been telling herself for the past few days, and she reminded herself of it again now as she stared down at her plate. He just needs some time to get used to having a wife around.
That, or he needed to be made to get used to her. Because she wasn’t going anywhere; she didn’t have anywhere else to go. And he couldn’t just ignore her forever. Which meant she was going to have to make her presence known.
“Mr. Smith,” she said, looking around at the butler, “I have a request to make.”
“Yes, Your Grace?” he said, stepping forward at once.
“I would like to begin redecorating the house. How would I go about doing that? Is there someone I should talk to about where to buy different furnishings and paintings?”
“I can find out for you, Your Grace,” the butler said, his eyes widening. “But is His Grace--”
“I am the Duchess of Nottington now,” she interrupted, “which means that I am the one in charge of running this household. And if I want to redecorate, I can. I don’t need my husband’s permission.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“Oh and I’d like you to have the best and most expensive dress-maker in the county come to see me. Now that I am the Duchess, it is far past time that I re-do my wardrobe to reflect my new status.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler said, nodding again, although there was a crease of concern now on his forehead. “Anything else?”
“Yes…” Leah’s eyes glittered as the idea came to her. “I would like you to hire me a violin tutor.”
The music room, Leah had noticed, was right next to the Duke’s study. You might be able to ignore me, but you are not going to be able to ignore the sound of me learning violin.
“That’s very good, Your Grace,” Mr. Renault, the violin tutor, said, as Leah lowered the violin and looked at him. She had just attempted to play a short scale, and, if you asked her, it had sounded like several kittens screaming in pain. From the look on Mr. Renault’s face, he shared her conclusion. However, his words said the opposite, and Leah had a feeling he didn’t like the idea of telling a duchess she was terrible at the violin.
“I know it wasn’t the best,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile. “But I am new to the instrument. Growing up I played the pianoforte or occasionally the harp.”
Mr. Renault frowned. “And you want to switch to the violin because…?”
“Because I always thought it a very beautiful instrument,” she declared, staring admiringly at the wooden instrument in her hand. It was very beautiful. It had also cost a great deal of money, which she had told Mr. Renault--who had procured it for her--to bill to her husband. It had been a very satisfying moment, telling him to send an exorbitant bill to the man who was currently ignoring her. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to ignore that.
She also had a feeling he wasn’t able to ignore the sound of the violin. They were in the music room, and there was a very thin wall between it and the Duke’s study.
“Shall I go again?” she asked, raising the violin and looking expectantly at her teacher.
“Y-yes,” he said. “Go again. And this time, try to focus on where you are placing your fingers.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Leah raised the violin once more and began to play the scale. She did feel she was a little better this time, but the sound of the screaming, discordant kittens still filled the music room. It was bad enough to make even her own hairs stand up on the back of her neck.
“How was that?” she asked, lowering the violin again and smiling at her teacher. “I thought I was a little better.”
“You were,” Mr. Renault lied, even as his teeth ground together in a way she knew meant he was struggling to endure the sound. “What if we tried something else? Just some basic techniques that might help you move your fingers more quickly?”
“Oh but I so like playing the notes,” she said sweetly, giving him her most innocent smile. “Let me try one more time.”
This time, she pressed the bow even more firmly into the strings in order to increase the sound, so that the harsh, dissonant notes filled her ears. There was no way that her husband couldn’t hear them. And indeed, as she played the final note in the scale, she had the pleasure of hearing his chair scrape against the floor of his study next door, as if he had stood up very suddenly.
Leah smiled to herself. So he was annoyed. Of course he was. She immediately began to play the scale. Then again. Then again. Over and over again, the horrible, unharmonious notes sounded out through the music room, grating against her ears and the ears of all who could hear them.
Next door, she heard the Duke storm over to his door and fling it open. But then he stopped, and she knew he was hesitating. Coming over to yell at her would mean acknowledging she had got to him. But not coming over to yell at her would mean continuing to listen to the screech of the violin.
“Stop!” Mr. Renault yelled, jolting Leah out of her tunnel vision, and she lowered the violin and gazed at the violin instructor, who was practically pulling his hair out of his hair. He looked mad. “Please stop, Your Grace! I cannot listen to you mangle this beautiful instrument like this! I quit! You clearly have no interest in learning how to play it, you just want to waste my time!”
Leah gazed at him with a mixture of wonder and awe as he began to pack up his own violin, muttering to himself as he did about time-wasting aristocrats! She was a little sad to see him go, but she also felt not a small bit of triumph, as well. If she had annoyed Mr. Renault this much, she had undoubtedly annoyed her husband, as well.
And without Mr. Renault, she would be better able to play terribly to her heart’s content--or until her husband finally paid attention to her.
The next few days passed surprisingly quickly, as Leah amused herself with the game she had created to annoy and punish her husband. She wasn’t always sure if she was playing the game with him, or if he was clueless he was even part of it, but she found it staved off the boredom to think that she was irritating him as much as he deserved to be irritated.
After another day of playing the violin had not resulted in her husband coming to yell at her, although she was pretty sure she had heard him pacing back and forth in his study while she was playing, as if trying to control himself from showing any sign of his annoyance. However, by the end of the second day, she was sick of playing the violin and had decided to move on to other pursuits.
The most fun of these was buying lavish, expensive dresses, the bills for which she also instructed the modiste to send to her husband. There were ball gowns to buy with layers and layers of silk and embroidery, all of which cost a small fortune. Then there were riding habits, morning dresses, evening gowns, and a whole assortment of gloves, hats, and jewelry. She nearly fainted when she saw the bill. Once, Emery had treated her to an expensive gown, when they were preparing for the London Season, and Lucien had been furious. But this bill was so much higher she was sure it would have her husband breaking down her bedroom door to yell at her.
But he didn’t. Despite the fact she had run up a debt that even a king would faint at, he didn’t come find her and tell her not to spend so excessively. He didn’t yell at her. He didn’t so much as glance at her during the brief moment she saw him crossing from the breakfast room to his study.
But instead of dampening her resolve, it only increased it. She was not going to allow this man to ignore her. Not after everything they had already been through together.
So she began to redecorate as well. Mr. Smith had found someone in a larger market town nearby who could reupholster furniture, and her days became filled with going to different artisans throughout the nearby towns finding pieces that fit her style better. Because while the castle was richly decorated, it was in a very old-fashioned style that Leah didn’t like very much. She wanted a modern home, one that reflected her tastes.
The redecoration took a week, and for that week, there was furniture everywhere. Not to mention builders coming through to knock down walls, hang new paintings, and rip up old flooring and put new flooring in. There were days when the sound of hammers and saws filled the castle from dusk until dawn.
And still… nothing.
And at the end of the week, as Leah looked around the hall of her beautiful new home, the entranceway filled with marble instead of the old, dark wood that it had been before, she knew for certain that her husband really did want to live separately. He wasn’t just angry at her. This wasn’t a phase.
He could ignore me gutting his entire home--that’s how much he doesn’t want me in his life. He would rather put up with me destroying the castle than speak to me.
The thought was utterly depressing.
This is my new reality , she thought, as she gazed out the windows and down toward the lazy river in the distance. It was already early autumn, she realized, and while the days were growing more chilly, today was warmer than it had been in a week. She should be happy. She was a duchess; she had a beautiful home; she was married to a man who was as handsome as he was wealthy; and best of all, she had escaped Lord Dubois.
But at what cost? I am going to be lonely for the rest of my life. I won’t even have children to help me get through the long, lonely years.
Leah’s eyes filled with tears. She knew she was being silly, that many ladies experienced far worse fates, but the disappointment was still palpable in her. This wasn’t the life she had wanted for herself. She had wanted love, a family, children of her own. Now she had nothing but a beautiful home and some fancy dresses.
The river glinted in the distance, and Leah shook herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself! You have a whole ducal estate to explore, and you’re wasting time moaning over your fate!
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