Chapter 17
First Editions
If anyone had told her that night she first rode into Mildenhall Estate that she would be back here as the Duchess, she would have referred that person to a physician.
And yet here she was, in the ducal carriage, entering the estate not hidden, not in the dead of night, but legitimately, as a lady of the house.
Perhaps she was in need of a physician herself.
The estate was even grander than she remembered.
Perhaps it was the twilight that surrounded it with a mysterious aura that went perfectly well with its grandiose exterior.
For instance, she hadn’t noticed that there were towers.
Because, of course, there were towers. At least the shrubs were still perfectly shaped as she remembered.
The carriage stopped at the entrance, and Leo was the first to get out of his carriage.
She still felt the sting in her heart when she realized the two great opulent carriages had been waiting for them after the wedding breakfast. Leo wouldn’t even ride with her.
It wasn’t as if she blamed the man, their situation was unique, but he could have been more understanding of her situation as well.
Leo helped her out of her carriage without looking at her. His gaze was fixed on an older woman who was coming to greet them. She bowed lightly to him and then to the new Duchess.
“Welcome, Your Graces. On behalf of the staff, we wish you a prosperous and productive union.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Byrne,” Leo said firmly. “Let me introduce Lady Mildenhall.”
Prim was startled, first because it was the first time in three weeks she had heard his voice up close, almost speaking to her. The second reason was the title. During the wedding breakfast, she had of course heard that title, but it was nothing compared to Leo calling her Lady Mildenhall.
“This is Mrs. Byrne. She is the housekeeper of the estate, and you can trust her efficiency.”
And then, without a second thought, Leo walked through the massive doors and vanished into the building.
“Welcome, Lady Mildenhall,” the strict woman said. “I will make sure your things are taken to the Duchess’s chambers. Would you like to freshen up, or shall we begin the tour of the estate?”
But she was exhausted, not physically, but it felt as though she had been drained of all her energy.
“I think the tour can wait. Thank you for taking care of my things.”
“Then, Your Grace, I will lead you straight to the Duchess’s chambers in the east wing.”
They entered the building, and the grand hall was exactly as Prim remembered, a cold place with marble floors and gleaming surfaces. The gilded sconces were there, but so were so many other things she hadn’t had the time nor the courage to explore.
The silent housekeeper guided her through the corridors of the estate. The place looked like a museum, filled with art and portraits. It was such a beautiful, opulent gilded cage.
“We are here, Your Grace.” The housekeeper’s voice stopped her bleak thoughts.
The woman opened the double door adorned with lilies, and it was as if a door to a new world had opened, which was quite accurate.
Prim had gone from her childhood room to a Duchess’s private chambers.
The plural was literal: this was a suite of interconnected spaces, a sitting room, a bathing alcove, a dressing room, and a bedroom, each more opulent than the last.
Prim explored the chambers with the excitement of a tax auditor.
They were marvelous, but still not hers.
She had to make a decision: she could either fight the ebony, the velvet, the marble, the silks, or she could try to embrace her new identity.
Only a woman of profound selfishness could lament such an exquisite cage.
She noticed another door connected to her bedroom. She tried the handle, but it was locked.
“This one, Your Grace,” said the housekeeper, “leads to the Duke’s chambers. He asked me to tell you that the door will remain locked at all times.”
Prim removed her hand from the handle as if it were burning charcoal. The message was clear and received. She guided the staff as they brought up her few belongings from her family’s house.
“I must request some shelves for the sitting room,” she told the housekeeper as the crates of books were brought up.
“As you wish, Your Grace. Though I must inform you that there is a library in this estate you might find satisfactory.”
“That is indeed excellent,” Prim said. “I can move some of my collection to the library, but I will require some shelves here as well. I always like to keep books close.”
“Is there anything else you require, Your Grace?”
“Nothing for the moment. You may retire.”
“I will send a maid to help you prepare for dinner.”
When the door to the chamber clicked shut, Prim was left all alone, in a luxurious room surrounded by all the things coveted by others. And yet she had never felt more empty.
It was the first time in her life she had to dress so formally to eat dinner. A maid came to help her, a saucy girl just one year younger than her. Prim breathed a little easier around her. But the moment she stepped into the dining hall, all levity was gone.
It was a huge room with a long table that could seat around thirty people. But now it was set only for two. Leo was sitting on one side of the table, a ledger right next to his plate. On the other side, she saw her place set ready and a footman holding her chair.
“Your Grace,” she curtsied, not too sure what to do.
Leo looked up from his book and took her in from top to bottom. Something flashed in his eyes, but perhaps it was just the flames from the fireplace.
“Please, take a seat,” he said politely.
Leo had spoken to her in many different ways in the little time they’d known each other, but he had never been polite.
Not that he had ever been rude, he had manners, after all, but polite?
That was not something Leo ever was. Not around her, anyway.
This was his way of conveying the message that she was to keep her distance.
“Are your quarters comfortable?”
“They are, Your Grace.”
She looked up at him across the table, through the candle holders and the wine bottle. It was funny how they were married, but they had never been this far apart.
“You can make any changes you want,” Leo said, looking at his plate.
“I don’t think it’s necessary. Perhaps in time…”
He nodded.
“I was informed there is a library,” Prim said, eager to fill the silence.
He looked up straight at her. His expression was surprised, and for a moment there was that familiar glint in his eye, the one he wore when he was ready to say something witty.
Prim perked up, ready for their banter. But as quickly as that sentiment rose, it was snuffed out like a useless candle.
Leo coughed lightly and fixated on his plate once more. Prim was dispirited.
“I was wondering if I could have access to the library.”
Leo stopped eating and put his cutlery down. Prim was afraid her request had been offensive somehow. She was in a new home, under new circumstances, and she didn’t know the rules. Perhaps she had broken some untold rule in this ancient house.
“You are the lady of this house. You have the liberty to go and do as you please, except in my chambers and my study. Is that clear?”
“It will take some time for me to adjust to this new reality. For now, this is your home, and I would hate to intrude.”
“You had no trouble intruding the first time we met,” Leo said, a smirk touching his lips.
Prim looked up, and she saw he already seemed to regret that little slip of the tongue. His expression went cold, and he dropped his napkin on the table as he stood.
“Like I said,” he said from across the room, “this is now your home, and you may do as you like. Have a good night.”
And just like that, he left without even looking at her. On their first dinner as husband and wife. Prim swallowed her food, her dignity, her tears, and finished dinner as decently as she could. When she was done, she went straight to her room and closed the door behind her.
In her gilded cage with its priceless carpets and velvet upholstery, the lady of the house, the Duchess of Mildenhall, cried on her wedding night.
Prim was composed the next day during breakfast. She had worn a simple dress and headed for the breakfast room as she had been instructed by the housekeeper. Her maid had asked her last night for an exhausting list of preferences so they could be prepared for her each day.
So when she entered the breakfast room, she could smell her favorite Earl Grey tea and freshly baked Brighton biscuits.
Leo was already there, dressed informally, reading a newspaper.
His shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and he wore no waistcoat or cravat.
He was, for all intents and purposes, at ease in his skin and his home, a sight so casually intimate it momentarily stole Prim’s breath.
For the past three weeks, through the agony and doubts, the anguish and the downright misery, Prim had forgotten one thing: Leo was attractive. So now she was asked to spend her days leisurely gazing upon this man with his relaxed strength and careless grace, while he avoided her. Perfect.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” she said, taking a seat across from him.
“Good morning,” he said without looking up from the paper.
A maid rushed to serve her, and Prim was a bit startled.
She was not accustomed to people serving her, but she was now a Duchess, and it was to be expected.
She studied Leo, who was utterly immersed in whatever article he was reading.
Though Prim suspected the newspaper was merely a wall between her and Leo, and though it was made of flimsy material, it might as well have been made of stone.
“You will be in charge of the estate affairs,” he said suddenly.
“Menus, pantry, changes, and renovations are all your responsibility. You will have a stipend to use as you see fit to run the house as smoothly as you can. You will also have pocket money for your personal expenses. If you want something that exceeds that amount, simply acquire it and have them send the receipt. Any questions?”
“None, Your Grace. This is all clear and generous of you.”
Leo finally looked up from his newspaper, studying her. He must have heard the false politeness in her voice. She, too, had never been polite to him.
“This time of the season, I am mostly at Westminster during the day. I will return home for dinner.”
“I understand, Your Grace.”
Leo got up and drained his cup of coffee. He threw one glance at her as she was bathed in the morning light, then bowed slightly and left. Suddenly the drawing room was empty, the tea was tasteless, the biscuits bitter.
That was her life from that day on for the next week: a quiet breakfast where they exchanged perhaps a few updates, sometimes nothing, and then she was left to her own devices the whole day.
It took her some time to explore the gardens, and sometimes she could see him riding in the distance, never approaching her during those walks.
She found solace in the library. It seemed Leo didn’t appreciate this part of his house very much.
For her, it was the real treat, the one thing that softened the harsh blow.
It was an exquisite room, with floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelves that lined the walls on multiple levels.
It had a narrow upper gallery accessible via a spiral metal staircase.
One side of the library had tall windows that allowed natural light to pour in.
It became her favorite haven, and she instructed that the fireplace always be lit.
She occupied most of her time cataloging the collection and trying to put it in some order, since it seemed that, out of neglect, the books had been placed randomly.
The moment Leo left every morning, she came in here with freshly served tea and sat down on the carpet with stacks of books around her.
Sometimes it felt as if she was truly burying herself in this endeavor.
Other than that, she had her duties: managing the menus, checking inventories, discussing small innovations with the staff.
The housekeeper, the initially cold Mrs. Byrne, quickly warmed to her.
If rumours of the seductive vixen who had managed to snare the Duke, the man Mrs. Byrne was so loyal to, had reached her ears, Prim had managed to disperse them.
She was friendly and efficient, clear in her instructions, managing expectations. The staff knew exactly what she expected of them in the little time she was there, and that made them feel at ease.
At the end of the day, when Prim retired to her private chambers after a dinner with Leo that was mostly an exercise in awkward silence, she would allow her true feelings to emerge. It was a dangerous mixture of guilt, loneliness, and anger.
She felt she didn’t deserve to be treated like this, and at the same time, she felt ungrateful because her new life included a luxurious mansion and an easy existence. Ironically, Leo was offering her the very same thing he had mocked when she was considering accepting Nathaniel’s proposal.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that both of them were trapped in this cage.