Chapter 8
" I do not like to be kept waiting," the Duke said gruffly as they boarded the carriage.
"I understand."
They traveled mostly in silence on the way to her new home.
Dorothy tried to make sense of why he had become so different from the man that she had met.
There was very little understanding in his voice, and he seemed rather eager to return.
Dorothy knew that something happened on a wedding night, but she had not been told precisely what that was, and so she wondered if that was why he wanted to be home so much.
And yet, she did not dare ask him.
Fortunately, the journey was not too long.
They arrived quickly at an enormous mansion, towering and intimidating with ivy crawling up the walls in tendrils.
She knew that the ivy would slowly be destroying the bricks, but what confused her was that her husband must also have known, given that they shared in the passion for botany.
For reasons unknown to her, he seemed quite content for the damage to be done.
She went to step inside, but he took her arm gently and pulled her back.
"Before we enter, I must tell you that I have expectations of my wife."
"I thought we had already discussed this?"
"Yes, but there is more. It is not much, only what is typically expected, but I need you to follow them. Tend to your duties, do not disturb me without reason, and whatever you do, do not overstep."
Eleanor blinked. She knew that she would have duties, and she did not need a reminder about them, and she did not plan to overstep.
What struck her, however, was the fact that she could not disturb him.
She did not plan to be a nuisance of any sort, but there would be times when she wished to speak to her husband and the knowledge that she would not be allowed to felt very strange indeed.
"Very well," she nodded reluctantly. "I can do that."
He exhaled, satisfied, and at last they began walking again.
"And there is something I must tell you," he continued carefully, "but it must wait for now. I would rather you become accustomed to your new home beforehand. In the meantime, you must not go into the west wing."
"Why not?"
"Because I forbid it," he snapped, and Dorothy fell silent.
She looked down, afraid of the anger she had just heard in his voice. He was a frightening man when he wished to be, and she did not understand why he so badly wished to intimidate her all of a sudden.
Upon their entry, Dorothy was greeted by three servants.
The older woman, with a hooked nose and gray hair, was her housekeeper Mrs. Herrington.
The old man was Johnson, the butler, and the younger lady with long chestnut hair tied in a low bun was Francine.
The quick introductions made, her husband left quickly, and Dorothy was in the hands of her servants.
"It is so nice to meet you!" the maid said brightly. "I will be your lady's maid, as His Grace informed me that you would not be bringing your own."
"How did he know that?" Dorothy asked, without thinking.
"I do not know, for he did not explain, but in any case I shall take care of you. You are in capable hands, I assure you."
Her new housekeeper scoffed, and Dorothy turned to her in surprise. She did not expect to be worshipped by her staff, but she knew that there was a certain respect owed to her as Duchess.
"Francine is very young," Mrs. Herrington explained with a sigh. "She does not know very much at all, and so I shall be assisting her while she learns what to do."
Francine's face turned pink, and Dorothy pitied her greatly.
She knew how it felt to be spoken so lowly of, and she hated that her staff seemed to have issues with one another.
Fortunately, she knew that with time she would be able to show them how to communicate with one another, for they would have to show her respect in time.
"I thank you for that," she replied gently. "I shall not pretend that I am prepared for what life as a duchess shall bring, but I am more than willing to learn. We can all learn together."
Again, Mrs. Herrington looked at her strangely.
"I am uncertain of what I might learn from a young lady forty years younger than me," she smirked. "But if you think of anything, do tell me."
The butler did not say a word. He simply watched the three ladies, and Dorothy was unsettled by that. She wanted him to say something, so that she might at least understand who he was and what he thought of her, but he did not give her anything.
After their brief interaction, she was taken to her room.
The butler disappeared, and so it was only the three ladies that remained.
When they arrived, Mrs. Herrington wordlessly disappeared.
Fortunately, Francine remained with her and they entered her bedchambers together.
Dorothy looked around her room, the walls papered in a pale yellow, and sighed.
She could not seem to escape the wretched color.
"If you do not like it," Francine explained quickly, "I am certain that His Grace will allow you to change it. It was how the late Duchess had it, and it has never been changed."
"I do not know if he will like that. I do not know if he wants to see me at all. Actually, yes I do, for he does not want to. If he did, he would not have left me alone so soon."
"His Grace can behave strangely at times, but believe me when I tell you that he is not a bad man. I believe he is simply wary of the fact that you are here now, for he has not been prepared for it at all."
Dorothy raised an eyebrow, and took a seat in one of the armchairs, motioning for Francine to take the other one.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked. "He has proposed and we have had a very brief courtship. He knew that I would arrive after our wedding."
"Yes, but that does not mean that he is ready. He has only taken a wife because it is his duty. He needs an heir, after all."
Dorothy crumbled, and Francine knew at once that she had misspoken.
"He did tell you this, did he not?"
"He… well, yes, he did. I simply thought that I might have changed his mind. I thought that he liked me."
"He may well do! It is as Mrs. Herrington said, I do not know very much. That is why she shall be helping you for the first while and I will be more of a friend. I apologize for that, as I wish I could be of more assistance than this, but it is my hope that we will learn together."
Dorothy looked at her lady's maid and could not help but smile in spite of everything. She had been concerned about losing her friends, and she had already begun to miss their advice, but at least she had someone that seemed to like her.
They remained in her bedchambers for a while, and then Dorothy decided that she no longer wished to look at the stark yellow that the room was bathed in and so they left to explore.
"Mrs. Herrington shall be furious, I suppose," Dorothy noted as they wandered. "She seems to prefer doing things correctly, and it is proper that she gives me the tour."
"And yet, you are following me still," Francine joked. "Besides, I cannot give you a real tour, as I am only just becoming accustomed to the place myself. Mrs. Herrington can show you everything properly in the coming days."
Dorothy enjoyed wandering the household, but as they continued on she felt a sense of dread rising within her.
It was the largest house she had ever seen, larger even than 'Emma's, which she had stayed in the year before during the party.
It seemed endless, and she did not know how she would ever be able to navigate it, which would hinder her ability to do her duty, which was something her husband had pressed was of the utmost importance.
The mansion was well-kept and clean, likely thanks to her housekeeper being so knowledgeable, and the walls were thick and sturdy, but she could not help but notice how dark and gloomy it was in spite of how well-lit it had been made.
It did not make any sense at all. Dorothy had thought that she had met a man that was willing to bend the rules of society, who wanted to enjoy his life and would therefore lead to her feeling much the same.
It had been her expectation that she would be happy there, even if it had not been the match that she had dreamed of.
Instead, she was alone.
Francine dressed her for dinner, a beautiful green gown, and she steadied herself as she looked in the mirror. She turned to the side, frowning at her figure, and then left the room.
"Do you suppose he is disappointed?" she asked Francine as they made their way to the dining room.
"The Duke?" she asked. "No, I would not have said so. He would not have married you if he did not want to, after all."
But Dorothy knew better. He had to marry her after what they had done, as there was always the chance that they had been seen in the gardens.
It had been his duty to take her as his wife, even if he had not already agreed to.
Even so, she smiled gratefully at her lady's maid and entered the dining room, taking her place at the table.
It was a formal place setting, and her husband would be at the other end of a very long table. Dorothy tried not to mind; they would be able to speak, at least.
But then a servant began serving her meal.
"Stop!" she gasped, and the servant froze.
"Do you not enjoy tomatoes, Your Grace?" he asked, confusion etched in his brow.
"I do, but should my husband not be here?"
The servant shifted from one foot to the other, not quite able to meet her eye. She knew at once what he was about to say.
"He will not be coming," he explained. "He prefers to eat alone."
Dorothy nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.
She motioned for him to continue to serve her, and tried not to think about anything at all.
Each time she thought of something, it led back to the Duke, and how he had clearly changed his mind.
She had to have done something to deserve it, but she could not for the life of her think just what it was, unless it was how she looked.
It had always been the thing that her parents had reminded her of, after all.
Short and round, soft and plump, not the tall and slim beauties that a duke would usually have his pick of.
Even if he had done his duty, that did not mean that he would ever want to see her.
If she were him, she knew that she would not.
The following day, after very little sleep, Francine dressed her and she went to breakfast. Once more, she ate alone, and then she went to find Mrs. Herrington, as it was time for her tour.
The housekeeper did not seem best pleased to see her, but Dorothy was determined not to let that concern her.
If this was her life, then she would do the best that she could with it.
"I am aware that you and your maid have already seen the household, yes?" she asked.
"Indeed, though I will say that I did not ask her any questions. I assumed that she would not have known the answers, not like you shall at least."
"Yes, that would be correct."
They continued through each room, and the most that Dorothy received from Mrs. Herrington was a brief history of the family and which type each room was. There was very little enthusiasm, as though she did not care about her role, and Dorothy almost felt pity for her.
They, of course, missed the west wing.
"When do you suppose that the Duke will tell me about that wing?" she asked as they passed it.
"In his own time. It is where he spends most of his time, but for the time being you are forbidden from going to it, as you know."
"Of course. Are you permitted to see it?"
"Of course I am. It is vital that I go there, several times a day in fact."
Dorothy knew better than to ask her why that was.
"And this," she said as they left the household, "Is the garden. His Grace is very passionate about it, and so I doubt that you will be trusted to spend very much time here."
"Oh, no, I am very much capable of tending to the gardens. It is something that the Duke and I have in common, you see. I am rather knowledgeable about botany, and I will not trample anything."
"Make sure that you do not."
It was beginning to frustrate Dorothy that she was being treated like a child.
She was not an overly excited dog, and she knew how to walk in a garden.
Yet, her own housekeeper seemed almost suspicious of her.
It was as though Mrs. Herrington was waiting for her to trample the land and break every object in sight, and it upset Dorothy greatly.
She did not look like what she thought a duchess should, but she at least hoped that she would appear to act as one. With a sigh, she continued to follow Mrs. Herrington.
The second night, she ate alone again. Fortunately, she found that she was at least hungry that time. She ate in silence, and then left for the library. She found a botany book, and read that before going to her room and having another fitful night's sleep.
When her third day passed in the same way, and she was alone throughout it without even a glimpse of her husband, she resigned to her fate.
She would not be happy in her marriage, and that was perfectly acceptable; many ladies were unhappy with their arranged marriages, but they were secure with a stable future and that was precisely what she had.
She wanted to be grateful for what she was given, and she tried so hard to be all the time that she spent by herself in the library.
When she was asleep, however, she was no longer able to conceal her true emotion. She wept into her pillow until she fell asleep, and by then she was so exhausted that she did not wake up until late the following morning.
She did not wish to leave her bed.