Chapter 10
D orothy was reluctant to go down to breakfast that morning, even though Cook made excellent meals.
"Come now," Francine said gently, dressing her. "You must not give in. This will pass, and the sooner you try to fix this the sooner it will be done."
"But how can I fix something when I do not know what is broken?"
"I do not know, but I am certain that you will find a way. I believe in you."
She admired her lady's maid's confidence, but she was not so certain. She did not know how to speak to her husband when he was never there, and so she would have to wait until he dared to come out of his rooms and go to her himself.
She had not expected to see him in the dining room waiting for her.
"Your Grace!" she gasped. "I– Good morning."
"Good morning," he smiled. "And I insist that you call me Morgan now that we are married."
"Very well," she nodded, taking her seat. "That means you will call me Dorothy, yes?"
"Indeed."
"All right. Why are you here this morning? It is lovely, but unexpected."
"I had some time, and so I thought to join you. I had never planned to be absent at all times, you know."
"Oh! Well, I had hoped that would be the case, but…"
"But my recent actions have suggested otherwise. I know, and I apologize for that. I simply have a lot to do, and with our brief courtship and the wedding I let a lot of work pile. I have to regain control over it all, and then it should be back to normal."
It was, she decided, a reasonable excuse. She wanted to believe him, too, as this was much more similar to the man that she had met. He was able to say more than a few words to her, and already it was more than she had received from him in days.
"I was hoping to ask you something," he continued. "Should you not want to discuss it, then we need not do so."
"No, it is perfectly fine."
"Very well. I have heard rumors that yourself and the housekeeper are having… difficulties."
"Well, I shall not pretend that I am a friend to her," she said, laughing nervously. "She seems to dislike me, and I have this feeling that she is wary that I will destroy the entire household. I assure you that I have no such intentions, of course."
"I can believe that. Why exactly do you believe that she dislikes you?"
Dorothy considered changing her mind, and telling him that all was well; she did not want to upset him, nor did she want to add to the things he had to do.
It was nothing that she could not handle herself, after all, and she knew that with time Mrs. Herrington would come to trust her. Then again, she did not want to lie.
"She believes I am incapable of running a household, which I suppose is true.
I never thought that I would have such a vast household to care for, and so the lessons my mother arranged for me were not something I spent a lot of time trying to understand.
. I should have tried harder, I know, and so I do not blame her for being uncertain of me. "
"Even so, she could not know that. I noticed that she already seemed different when we returned home."
"In any case, there is no need for you to say anything.
I assure you, it is all perfectly fine with me.
I am not going to expect any special treatment, and the truth is that it will take me a while to understand what it is I must do here.
That will anger Mrs. Herrington, and so it is my duty to learn.
That is what you expect of me, is it not? "
He was quiet for a moment, looking at her. She wondered why he was doing that, and if he had any reason to at all. She had been honest with him, and that was all that she could do.
"If you are certain, then I shall leave the matter here, but I will tell you that I have already spoken to her. She should give you no further trouble."
Dorothy panicked greatly at that. She hoped that he had not made it seem as though she had been the one to tell him about it, as that would only serve to upset her housekeeper further and make her unwilling to help her even more than she already seemed.
"I never mentioned you," he added. "She does not know that I planned to ask you about it, either. Fear not."
"Is it that evident when I am afraid?"
"Indeed. You cannot hide it at all."
She smiled, in spite of herself. He did the same, and at last she felt comfortable in his presence.
"I would like to see the gardens," she said softly. "In spite of what is perhaps expected of me, I plan to care for them while I am there."
"I do not doubt that. In fact, our gardener has recently left to see his ailing mother, and so I was hoping you might be able to find another one for me? I would do it myself, but I have not yet found the time and already it is growing unruly."
"I could tend to it," she suggested.
"That is not the role of a duchess."
"Perhaps not, but while we find a gardener it might be for the best. Believe me, I know what to do. I was allowed to tend to a small piece of land my family owns, and I do not like to seem as though I have a high opinion of myself but I took care of them well."
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She knew that he would do what he had to do as a duke and tell her that it is forbidden, and so she was not to do it and instead to find a gardener quickly, but she had to try.
"Are you certain that you can do it?" he asked.
"I truly am."
"Very well then. We are in a very secluded place, and so nobody outside of the household shall see you. If it will make you happy, then you have my permission. I shall inform the staff of this."
She could hardly contain her excitement.
She ate her breakfast quickly, already eager to go outside and begin her work.
Mrs. Herrington could keep some distance from her for a while too, which Dorothy assumed she would appreciate.
When she finished, she left for her room and found the most dreadful gown she owned.
It was a hideous shade of orange, one of her sister's choices, and one that she did not mind staining.
Francine dressed her, remarking how drastic the change in her was.
Dorothy agreed, explaining her deal with the Duke.
"Mrs. Herrington will be furious," Francine noted, though she was grinning.
"She cannot be. His Grace shall see to that."
"Are you not concerned that she will see you as a rival?"
"Of course not. I am not her rival, I am a duchess. She shall have to accept me eventually."
When she was out in the garden alone, however, she was not so certain of that. Regardless, nothing relieved her of stress quite like a scythe carving through grass. She enjoyed the metallic sound of it, and with how vast the landscapes were, she would be able to hear it for a very long time.
After a while, she came to a rose garden and placed the scythe down.
She sat on the ground in front of them, and looked them over.
They were, in spite of the lack of gardener, growing very well and were the perfect shade of pink.
Taking the time to look at the other flowers, she noticed that they were all exceptionally well taken care of.
At last, she felt truly happy to be at home, as the bright gardens were a far cry from the dark hallways she had been walking since her arrival.
The sun was warm, and she tilted her head back to let it shine onto her.
After a moment, she continued on her way, swinging the scythe until she was pleased with her progress.
There was a pond on the grounds, and she wandered over to it.
She planned only to look at the ripples in the water, but the sun had begun to truly make her feel hot.
It was not uncomfortable, but she knew that what she truly wanted was to dive into the cool blue in front of her.
It was highly improper, but her husband's words echoed in her mind.
They were in a secluded place, and nobody would see her.
In a moment of weakness, she removed her shoes and stockings, feeling the grass beneath her feet.
Tentatively, she dipped a toe into the water.
It was cold, which was frighteningly tempting.
She continued going into it, until one foot was completely submerged.
She laughed gently at the sensation, before peering around to ensure she was not being watched.
When she saw that she was safe, she lifted her skirts to just below her knee, and stepped all the way in.
She felt rebellious, scandalous, and wicked for the second time in her life.
She kicked gently, splashing water up as if she were a child, and then stood still, feeling the difference between the heat on her shoulders and the cold on her ankles. It was perfect.
"What on Earth are you doing?" a voice bellowed.
Dorothy stumbled, and unable to hold onto anything for support she stumbled in entirely. Her gown was soaked through, but she did not care. She was more than happy to have it thrown away entirely.
When she looked up, she saw Mrs. Herrington scowling at her. She almost groaned over the interruption, but she stopped herself.
"His Grace said that I could spend some time in the gardens. He told me that he would make you aware of that."
"He has, which is precisely why I have come here. He has not told you that you can go into the pond."
"It is only water, Mrs. Herrington. It does not hurt."
She saw how her anger left for a brief moment before returning in full force.
"That does not signify! If the Duke sees you like this he will be furious. Come, we must bring you inside to dry."
"If I may, I would suggest that I shall dry much sooner outside. The sun is very warm."
It was also more pleasant than it was inside.
With a scoff, the housekeeper waved her away and turned on her heel.
"As you wish, Your Grace."
She left, and Dorothy watched her go. Her heart was racing, but she was pleased to have spoken for herself rather than cowering. She was afraid of Mrs. Herrington, but that could not continue. She was the lady of the household, and she wanted to be respected as such.
And so, she lay in the sun for a while. It did wonders for her spirits, and as she traced her fingers in the grass she contemplated never pulling herself to her feet.
Sadly, the sun began to dip down from the sky and as she had been dry for a long time she thought it best to return to the manor for dinner.
Should her husband be there, she decidedly did not wish to be seen in such an awful gown.
She took the scythe and made her way to the shed.
When she had put it away, she turned to the house and truly looked at it.
It was large and looming, and the sight of it alone gave her a great sense of unease, but she tried to ignore it.
She was only afraid because it was new to her, and soon enough she would grow accustomed to it and be happy with where she was.
There was nothing to be scared of, she thought.
Then she saw the ghostly figure in an upstairs window. The face was pale and her hair was long and blonde, hanging limply over her in ringlets. There was hardly any expression on her face at all.
But she was watching her intently.