Chapter 9
In the week that followed Beatrice’s arrival at Everthorne Hall, she found a routine for herself that she quite enjoyed.
She was awakened at eight each morning by her lady’s maid, who brought her a hot chocolate and a light breakfast, along with her correspondence.
There were beautiful letters from her friends, and she placed them to one side so that she could respond later in the day.
Then, she was dressed for the day ahead.
Beatrice knew that, eventually, she would need gowns in keeping with her new status, but she had not expected to have them appear seemingly overnight.
To her surprise, her wardrobe was suddenly filled with them, arranged from lightest to darkest, separated by how formal they were. She gasped when she saw the lot.
“His Grace thought it prudent,” Ella explained. “He received your measurements from your mother and had them made for you.”
“That was… thoughtful of him.”
“From what I have heard, it is very much like him. Would you like to choose?”
Frankly, she was overwhelmed by the number of new garments. She had always been used to very few and only changing them at the beginning of a new season. Not wanting to lose her entire morning looking at them, she simply reached out to a pink one and pulled it out.
“This one,” she instructed and was soon dressed to receive any callers.
That morning, it was her mother. She crept inside, looking around in wonder at it all.
“Oh, Beatrice,” she sighed wistfully. “I never would have thought… Oh, you have done so well.”
“I am pleased to be reminded that you never expected it,” Beatrice muttered, taking her for tea.
“I always had hoped for you,” her mother explained. “I knew that, eventually, you would find someone who would agree to marry you, but I never expected such splendor. Have the girls come to see you, yet?”
“Mother, I have been here but a week! They have husbands and children to tend to.”
“Of course, but they are your friends, and– my word, did you make these?”
She pointed at some treats Beatrice had made with icing. They were some of her best creations, with delicate flowers made of sugar on the top. It was her usual activity in the afternoon, and instead of eating them herself she gave them to the staff, which of course they appreciated.
“Indeed,” she smiled. “I am not yet completely satisfied with them, but they are quickly improving.”
“I am very much satisfied,” her mother said brightly, popping one into her mouth. “I have missed your cakes, Dearest.”
Beatrice’s eyes widened, remembering the times she was chased out of the kitchens and scolded for not being ladylike.
“You hated that I enjoyed baking, Mother.”
“That was because you were unmarried,” she replied simply, taking two more. “You are a wife now, and so all is forgiven and forgotten. What was once something shameful is now very interesting, for you are a duchess. You will soon realize that your title changes everything.”
Beatrice smiled weakly and agreed, but there was an undeniable anger surfacing within her.
For years, she had been desperate for her family’s acceptance, and yet they had never given it to her.
The only thing that had changed was that she now wore a wedding ring, but they acted as though society as a whole had turned on its head and now adored her for the very same reasons that it had once disregarded her.
“Now, are you going to show your mother your new home, or must I accompany myself?”
Beatrice finished her tea quickly, and they made their rounds.
As she explained each room, her eyes began to settle on fading wallpaper and old furnishings.
It had been wondrous the first time, and she had not noticed it while she was simply living there, but now that she had proudly presented everything to someone else, particularly her mother, the agedness of the place was impossible to ignore.
She wondered if her mother had seen it too.
“I wish I had trained you properly for all of this,” her mother murmured. “I had not expected such an illustrious match. I should have done better by you in that respect.”
And many others, too, Beatrice thought, but she said nothing,
“I ought to bring your father next time,” she continued. “I know that he wishes to conduct business with your new husband.”
“That can wait for a while. We do not want to seem as though we have done this for the sake of Father’s businesses.”
“I know, but it would be for the best that they form a relationship of some sort. Where is His Grace, for that matter?”
“I… I am not entirely certain of that.”
Her mother tutted at her, peering around a corner as if it would make Owen appear from thin air.
“You must change that, and quickly. A lady should always know where her husband is or at least have an answer when asked. If you do not know, it means that he is somewhere you do not want him to be.”
“And where might that be?” a bold voice came.
Her mother was startled, but Beatrice knew precisely who had said it. It was Owen, entering the household covered in mud with a grin on his face. Lady Jennings curtsied at once and stammered some apology that nobody was listening to.
“I thought it was a pleasant morning, and so I went for a walk. What I had not realized was that it had rained in the night, and so the ground was wet. I at least wished for my shoes to dry before I came in, so as not to traipse dirt through the house.”
“I thank you greatly for that,” Beatrice smiled, turning to her mother. “There was an incident where I found dirt on the hem of my gown because I had walked through a mud-covered hallway.”
“And it will not happen again, I can assure you. Good morning, Lady Jennings. Are you here to visit your daughter, or myself too?”
“Well, if you are not otherwise occupied, I should very much like to see you too.”
Beatrice was surprised by her husband’s demeanor, but it was a welcome change. Whatever he had been doing that morning, it had lifted his spirits, and she was grateful for it.
They left for the drawing room and more biscuits were brought out for the Duke, who Beatrice had noted ate like a ravenous soldier.
He chewed more than he said and it appeared that he immensely enjoyed the feast, including the delicate things she had crafted.
He licked his fingertips afterwards, savoring the sugar, and Beatrice watched as he did so.
She had tried not to think of her husband as handsome, but as his eyes met hers, she had to admit that there was an attraction there.
“The household is different without my daughter, lonelier” her mother said.
“Then again, I have received so many visitors that it has more than made up for it. The ton has been happy to accept the marriage, though there have been whispers about the disappearance of poor Lady Helena. I have only spoken highly of her, of course.”
Owen looked at them with a puzzled expression, and Beatrice sighed at the knowledge that her mother had said too much as always.
“I had to tell my mother the truth,” she explained. “My father knows nothing, but I had to explain why I was marrying you, and why it was going to be all right with Lady Helena.”
“And I understand more than you might expect,” her mother continued. “You see, I… I had a friend in the same predicament.”
Beatrice raised an eyebrow at her, but it was clear that she was not going to elaborate any further.
“Very well,” Owen said carefully. “As long as Lady Helena is protected, all is well. I thank you for your discretion.”
“Might you know where she is?” her mother asked.
“I do. She is in an estate in the North, and they will be married soon. I believe that we have received an invitation, Beatrice. Should anyone ask, Lady Jennings, we have decided that Lady Helena will tell people that she went to stay with an aunt to forget the ordeal, and she will one day return with her husband and say that she fell in love there.”
“Will the ton accept that?”
“When she has the favor of four dukes and duchesses, they will have no choice but to. In the meantime, they are going to be well taken care of.”
Her mother slowly stirred her tea, sipping it.
“You are a good man, Your Grace. There are very few of those. I am pleased that my daughter managed to marry one, even if I am not the best at showing it.”
It was the closest thing to a compliment that she had heard from her mother in a very long time.
When her mother left, Beatrice planned to continue her day as normal, not wanting to break her routine, but Owen did not walk away from her, and no facade was revealed and dropped, and so she did not leave him either.
“Your mother is a very interesting lady,” he said simply.
“She means well, I believe.”
He chuckled, looking at the now empty dishes for more cakes.
“Shall I send for more?”
“I believe you finished them. I only made twenty, and I counted all of them as they were devoured.”
He paused, looking at her as if she were about to laugh and reveal she was telling a joke.
“Did you make them?”
“Of course. I told you that I enjoy baking, did I not?”
“You did, but I thought that meant simple biscuits and cakes. I never would have expected such delicacies.”
“Ah, well then you should not have assumed,” she quipped. “I can make more, if you wish. I am trying to perfect them, and so the more I make the sooner I will achieve that.”
“Do you mean to say they were not perfect?”
Beatrice thought back to the flavor, considering them carefully.
“They could be improved,” she replied. “I used too much almond, and the flowers were slightly thicker than I would have liked. Once I have adjusted those, I will be closer.”
“Can I help you?” he asked suddenly.
Beatrice smiled, narrowing her eyes at him in disbelief. It was a pleasure of hers that always led to judgment, or happiness at the free sweets, but she had never been asked for assistance.
“I suppose you could,” she agreed, “but you must do exactly as I say. I am meticulous, and so if you cannot follow my instruction then you would be better not joining me.”
“I can certainly try, though I will remind you that I never follow instructions. I give them.”
“Then we will both be trying something new,” she giggled. “Would you like to make these, or something simpler to start?”
She watched as he tried to decide, clearly not certain as to what he would prefer. He had never done anything of the sort, and so it made sense that they would begin with simple biscuits, but it was evident that he enjoyed the flower treats and wanted more of them.
“I have an idea,” she said when he could not decide. “I shall make more of those, and you can stand by my side and make something easier. That way, you can say you made them by yourself, and I can adjust my recipe.”
“That would be acceptable,” he beamed. “When do you make them? In the mornings?”
Beatrice shook her head, smiling.
“Actually, I make them at night, when the staff have gone to bed. I find that it is quieter, and I am not in anyone’s way.”
“Tonight, then,” he nodded. “At midnight?”
“Precisely. I shall see you then.”
Owen turned to leave, but suddenly she remembered something and called out his name.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said sheepishly, “for the gowns. They are beautiful, from what I have seen.”
“You need not thank me. Consider it a wedding present, as well as a way of making you feel more like a duchess.”
And for the rest of the day, she continued with her routine with a spring in her step. She finished her duties, and then raced to her room, admiring her new gowns. She had to choose just the right one for dinner, but there were so many that she was at a loss.
“What do you think of this one?” she asked Ella, pulling out an emerald green one. “It is not too plain, but not one befitting a ball, either.”
“It is beautiful. Come, let us get you dressed.”
It was strange to have someone dress her again, but Beatrice found that she did not hate it.
The attention made her feel special, yet like all the other ladies she knew.
There was still an inkling in the back of her mind that she was not useless, and could easily have dressed herself, but it was a pleasant experience all in all.
For the first time, she felt like a true duchess.
She ate her dinner with her husband, wearing a beautiful gown with her hair pinned precisely.
They discussed their plans for the next day, and it was a temptation to ask about the household, and whether she could make changes to it, but she did not.
She wished to settle first and be completely comfortable with her role before she altered her surroundings.
“I know you spoke of Lady Helena’s situation this morning when my mother called but have you received any new correspondence from her?” she asked. “I wrote to Helena myself, but have not yet received a response.”
“I have not, for it will take longer for letters to be received now that she is further away. I would not be too concerned for her, though. She is with the man she loves now, and so she will be happy.”
“I know, but I worry for her all the same. She must be so frightened after leaving her life behind. Do you suppose her family knows the truth?”
“No, and they never will.”
“Well, where do they believe she has gone? They will know that she is not with an aunt, after all.”
“They know she has run away, and they know she is being taken care of. They will not bring scandal upon their own family, and so everything is as it should be.”
Beatrice knew that everything had been planned for, and so there was nothing to be too concerned about, but she was all the same.
Part of that worry, she reasoned, was because she had nothing to do with finding a solution to the problem that she had caused, and therefore she felt she did not know everything.
She wished that she had been given the opportunity to help, but it was perfectly reasonable that she had excluded.
She pushed the matter aside, choosing instead to focus on her own plans.