Chapter 17
“Good gracious!” Cecily exclaimed, waking up with a jerk. “We must have been asleep in here all night! How can it be seven o’clock?”
The sun was creeping in around the heavy curtains in the yellow and gold-themed drawing room where she had found herself curled up on the sofa with Mary.
She was still wearing her wedding dress, and her hair was more down than up, with several pins having fallen into the neckline and now needing to be retrieved.
“Hmmm?” Mary yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “What’s that, Cecily? I dreamed that Uncle Preston tried to take me back and you pushed him into a hedge. It was ever so funny.”
“Why did no one wake us up?” Cecily fretted, sitting upright now and looking around the room. “Oh my! They must have eaten dinner without us and gone to bed.”
“Good,” Mary uttered. “I had no desire to sit down at the dinner table with Patrick anyway. I’m glad we missed it. I heard him telling Lilian that he was staying here and not going back to London, though I can’t see why, other than to sponge off his brother instead of making his own way.”
“But Mary, it was my wedding night!” Cecily protested, trying to work out what had happened and what it could mean. “Oh, why did no one come to find us?”
For better or worse, over the past few weeks she could have sworn that the Duke was eager—more than eager—to take her to his bed. Yet he had apparently not even cared about or noticed her absence.
“I think they did find us,” Mary pointed out, holding up a corner of the cotton blanket covering them. “Someone covered us and closed the curtains. I think that was jolly kind of them, whoever it was.”
Cecily could not help imagining the Duke’s hands draping the blanket over their sleeping forms, although it seemed unlikely to her that he would bother.
“It was probably Mrs. Barnes,” she told her sister, with a touch of gloom.
“Well, we ought to thank her,” Mary replied, giving up on sleep and rising from the sofa with more energy than Cecily.
“Oh, I do feel well, Cecily. I am so glad that you married the Duke of Greyhaven and we can be safe here forever and never have to bother about Uncle Preston and Grandmother ever aga—”
“You should go and change your dress, Mary,” Cecily interrupted, feeling more uncertain than glad of her situation. “I shall go and see about breakfast, and find out where… the rest of the household are.”
Would the Duke be disappointed with her absence last night, or even angry? What if he had been waiting upstairs for hours?
But she did not even know where his suite was, if she wished to find him. Today might be a very difficult day at Greyhaven Park.
She walked slowly out of the drawing room while Mary skipped ahead, humming a tune.
There was no sign of Lilian, but Cecily supposed that Mrs. Barnes had seen to everything last night, including getting the child to bed at a reasonable hour, a duty that would now presumably become hers. If Lilian were to stay there…
Why was the Duke’s daughter living at the dower house anyway? It seemed odd and unhealthy that she should be so far. Maybe it was because the Duke visited so rarely, as Lilian’s words and behavior showed, and because managing a smaller house was easier.
But if that was the case, why not close Greyhaven Park completely? Keeping both places open was a choice.
As Cecily stood musing in the hallway and debating whether to pull the bell for assistance in finding her way about, she heard raised voices from a landing above.
“Leave me alone! I told you I don’t want to see you ever again, Patrick!”
“I only bid you good morning! It is hardly an insult, and anyway, we are to live in the same house now, and there is no use in being angry all the time.”
“Why are you even here?”
“This is my brother’s house. I should be asking you that.”
“Well, now it is my sister’s house as well!”
“Mary!” Cecily called sharply. “Go and get changed.”
At that, the voices ceased, and two sets of footsteps went in different directions.
Cecily sighed. If Patrick really were planning to stay at Greyhaven Park for the foreseeable future, matters could become very complicated with Mary.
Patrick’s role in diverting Lilian yesterday had been well-played and thoughtful.
It was not lost on Cecily that the young man had been willing to stand up to her uncle for Mary, even after her sister had repeatedly snubbed him.
At the same time, Mary was somewhat justified in her attitude.
Cecily could not approve of her brother-in-law’s lack of initiative and independence.
How messy it is!
Before attending to her sister’s life, Cecily reminded herself that she must consider her own. Most immediately, she also needed to wash and change. Unlike Mary, she did not know where her own bedroom was, having spent the night before the wedding in a guest room.
Likely, her few belongings and the first tranche of her trousseau would have already been moved to the Duchess’s suite, wherever that was. Or should she go seek the Duke first and apologize for what must have seemed a vanishing act on their wedding night?
Still, imagine having to ask a maid for directions to her own husband’s bedroom. Even worse, imagine how the Duke might react. Cecily was unsure whether it would be worse to be welcomed or turned away.
Taking advantage of a passing maid, she asked for directions to Mrs. Barnes’s room and headed that way instead.
The elderly housekeeper was kind, capable, and seemed to know everything.
It would be easier to ask her questions than anyone else, and Cecily didn’t get the sense that the woman would find her ridiculous.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Barnes greeted her with a curtsy and a happy smile, setting aside the linen she had been inspecting before Cecily entered the room. “How does it feel to be Duchess of Greyhaven?”
Cecily did not know how to answer and had to laugh at herself after a long pause.
“I do not know that I do feel like the Duchess of Greyhaven yet,” she admitted. “I do not even know the way to my own suite.”
“That could be easily fixed,” the housekeeper assured her. “Shall I walk you upstairs now and show you where everything is?”
“Yes, please,” Cecily returned eagerly. “That is part of what I came to ask you.”
“Of course, you’ll be wanting your own lady’s maid now,” Mrs. Barnes said by way of conversation as they climbed up the stairs. “There’s been no time for that yet with this whirlwind of a wedding, but Gertie will look after you for now. We can ring for her when you’re ready.”
Cecily nodded, never having had her own lady’s maid before.
“I should thank you for looking after Mary and me last night,” she told the older woman. “We were both shattered and slept all the way through on the sofa because you closed the curtains and covered us.”
Mrs. Barnes chuckled. “Oh, that wasn’t me, dearie, I mean, Your Grace. It was His Grace who said you should not be disturbed and set the blanket with his own hands.”
“Oh!” Cecily gasped, disconcerted. “I had not thought…”
“That man’s instincts are good,” the housekeeper remarked in a critical and familiar manner that likely came from her long service with the family and unique relationship with the Duke.
“But he has always been left far too much to his own devices, and far too little challenged. Society cannot understand him, and he has little interest in society.”
“Yes,” Cecily agreed carefully. “He does have good instincts.”
She thought of the way the Duke had marshaled and briefed his footmen to ensure Lord Holt could not cause trouble at the wedding reception. She also thought of how he had followed and defended her from personal assault with his bare hands.
In his own way, the Duke was a thoughtful man. In other ways, he was the most careless man she had ever met.
“Now, here we are. Your suite is at this end of the corridor, Your Grace, and His Grace’s suite is at the other end. There’s a door connecting the bedrooms…”
Cecily swallowed and nodded silently, this news making her heart beat faster with something like alarm. A connecting door? Might the Duke just suddenly walk in?
“… but we won’t see His Grace at this hour. On a normal day, we wouldn’t expect him to rise before noon when he’s here.”
“Not before noon,” Cecily repeated with relief as the housekeeper opened the door to the suite and led the way through a sitting room, a dressing room with an adjoining washroom, and then into a large, sunlit bedroom with a view over the gardens.
Her few belongings had indeed already been arranged about the room and on the dressing table, but it was the window that caught her attention first, the curtains already drawn back as if in welcome.
“How lovely!” she exclaimed, not having seen a full view of Greyhaven Park’s grounds before. “What beautiful gardens.”
“It is a fine estate, isn’t it?” the old housekeeper replied, looking very pleased with her enthusiasm. “There’s a lake out beyond those woods to the southeast, and some fine bridle paths for riding if you enjoy being on horseback. You can see the dower house from here too.”
Looking at that half-visible dwelling, perhaps a mile from the main house, Cecily frowned.
“Why does Lady Lilian live there?” she asked. “I cannot understand it.”
The housekeeper sighed and shrugged. “His Grace thought it would be her little palace, I suppose,” she suggested. “He thought she should have everything her own way, just as she wanted it.”
“That’s rather like what Lady Jackson said,” Cecily admitted. “But a child should have a family, not a palace. I want Lilian moved over to Greyhaven Park, and I shall speak to the Duke about it as soon as I can.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Mrs. Barnes replied with evident satisfaction. “I’m glad you haven’t taken against the poor child for how she acts. She only wants His Grace’s attention…”
“… and will do anything to get it,” Cecily finished with a nod of agreement.
“You have it right, Your Grace. Only say the word once you and His Grace have settled matters. Miss Osborne and I will make the necessary arrangements for Lady Lilian.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. Now, I suppose I should…”
Turning away from the window and looking around the light, spacious bedroom, another thought came to Cecily.
“These rooms must have belonged to the Duke’s first wife,” she remarked, not disliking the idea but finding it a definite weight on her mind.
“Lady Victoria, God rest her soul,” Mrs. Barnes said with a sad smile.
“It’s funny you should ask. When she arrived, Lady Victoria found this corridor too out of the way and chose a different suite, closer to the main stairs.
Before that, these rooms belonged to the Duke’s mother, although she was never here.
They haven’t been properly lived in since his grandmother’s time. ”
With this brief history, the burden on Cecily’s mind eased, and her spirits lifted once more. She might soon feel she had the right to occupy the Duchess’s suite, even if she did not yet feel like the Duchess.
“Did the Duke not mind his first wife living in a different part of the house?” Cecily enquired further, curious.
Mrs. Barnes shook her head with a good-humored smile.
“No, nothing like that, although I always found it pretty strange myself. I never wanted to sleep apart from Mr. Barnes when he was alive. Still, the Duke and Lady Victoria got along well, I suppose. It wasn’t a love match, and not everyone wants to be close, do they? Even a husband or wife.”
This well-meaning but lukewarm characterization of the Duke’s first marriage was as confusing as everything else about him. It gave Cecily more questions than answers.
“Was the Duke very upset when she died?” she probed, hoping that this would not seem too insensitive or prurient.
“Oh, His Grace was very sorry, I should say,” Mrs. Barnes replied, still somewhat equivocally. “Lady Victoria did a fine job here, and you won’t find anyone to say otherwise. She was a very capable woman and would have been a good mother.”
“So, did he mourn for very long?” Cecily persisted, finding that her interest was only roused further by these insights into the past. “I heard he didn’t go out in society for years.”
“Mourning or not, he was never one for going about in society,” Mrs. Barnes pointed out with a smile. “I wouldn’t listen to what the ton says about him, if I were you. Make up your own mind.”
“I shall do exactly that,” Cecily assured her, wanting her to continue talking.
“Well, it was a black day at Greyhaven Park when Lady Victoria died. Yet His Grace was more angry than grief-stricken. He blamed the fancy London physician whom his wife insisted on having. A fit, healthy young woman should not die after a successful birth, he said. Then, he announced he would only pay the man half his fee since he had only done half his job!” Mrs. Barnes chuckled briefly and shook her head at this bleak yet darkly amusing memory.
Cecily was unsure what to say, though she could easily picture it.
The housekeeper sought no immediate response, still caught up in her memories.
“Not that I think His Grace was wrong about that physician, mind you. These university men spend their days in dissection rooms and then come bringing death into the birthing chamber. When your time comes, remember that the local midwives are nice and clean and the apothecary in Greyhaven Village is very experienced, even if he is over eighty.”
Cecily laughed, but turned away to hide the blush she feared would creep onto her cheeks. She was a married woman now, and her “time” would likely come soon enough, even if her husband had not been over-eager to take her to his bed last night. He had made no secret of his desires before.
The housekeeper perhaps misinterpreted her shyness and checked the watch hanging from the belt of her black dress.
“Dear me, here I am chattering on about such old, forgotten things, and you have still to wash, dress, and break your fast. I shall go back downstairs and send Gertie up to you, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes,” Cecily returned. “You have been very kind.”
When she was finally alone, she went to the door at the far end of the bedroom and laid her hand on the rich, warm wood. Was it locked? She did not dare to try it and find out.
Somewhere beyond that door, the Duke lay asleep in his bed. Or maybe not asleep.
At that thought, Cecily pulled her hand back swiftly, unable to put the image of her husband out of her mind.
She had seen him disheveled so many times that imagining him in bed in his nightshirt was effortless for her.
Dear God, that only made it worse, just as the way her imaginary Duke smiled, blending the kindness she had seen at the altar yesterday with the raw desire he now expressed in the way he had kissed her several times.