Chapter 13
Beatrice decided, after some careful contemplation, that their first dispute had ended well enough.
She knew that a disagreement would be inevitable, and she was pleased that it was done with because it meant that she was no longer waiting for it. It had been settled, and though she had not said as much to him she had already owned her part in it.
She felt utterly miserable when Mrs. Forsythe revealed that she was supposed to be staying in the village for the night, which was likely why he was so angry with her.
It was no wonder that he had lost his temper, but that did not matter to her.
She had lived with an irascible man all her life, and she was not going to do so any longer.
Their dinner had proven to her, however, that Owen was not an outrageous man.
He was, in truth, thoughtful and kind, a good husband, all things considered.
He did not have to open their home to her friends without inviting his own, but he had done so without question, and she appreciated that more than he could have known.
“I must admit that I am apprehensive,” she said to Ella as she was prepared for bed. “They have all been in love for so long now. They will see that I do not share in that with them.”
“They will not expect you to, Your Grace. They know the circumstances, and that it will take time for a bond to form. If you pretend otherwise, that is what will lead to concern on their part.”
Ella pulled the last pin from her hair, and it tumbled down for her to brush.
“All the same, I do not want them to pity me. This is more than I expected for myself, and more than I ever allowed myself to want.”
“And that astounds me, for you are beautiful.”
“So my friends claim, but I have never seen it. It was easier, I suppose, to tell myself I did not want to be liked, so that when I was not it hurt less.”
She was trying to be funny, but it was the truth. It was her way of protecting herself, and it had worked until it no longer did, which was when she lost her mind and decided to interrupt a wedding.
Fortunately, it turned out to be a good idea.
“Do you think you will marry one day?” Beatrice asked. “You are a lovely lady yourself.”
“I have always dreamed of it. Granted, when I was a little girl, I thought that a prince would choose me somehow, so I have more realistic expectations now, but I would still very much like to fall in love. I simply do not mind who I fall in love with as much anymore.”
Beatrice was not too different from her. Though her father had never expected much she once wondered if she might find the perfect gentleman despite everything. For all intents and purposes, she had, and it was a strange thing to consider.
The following morning, after she had broken her fast, she decided to take a walk in the grounds. Knowing that Dorothy would be coming to visit, she wished to learn all the plants that she had and note any interesting ones that she could point to later.
She did not take anyone with her, for she rather liked the idea of having time to herself Not only that, but her tour of the grounds with Mrs. Forsythe had been very short, as though she was not interested in them, and Beatrice did not want to burden her a second time.
As she reached the edge of the land, she saw a dense thicket of forest. It was overgrown, and once more there was that clear division between what was cultivated by the Duke’s staff and what was not.
It had been explained that it was how the gardener preferred it, but Beatrice could not help but disagree with that.
A gardener would do as instructed and would never leave a large area so unkempt simply because he wanted to.
Something about the place made her feel a great sense of unease, but a greater sense of intrigue.
And so, taking a glance around her, she made her way through.
It was easy enough to make her way to the trees, where the grass was shorter once again from being in the shade.
It was eerily quiet, with only a bird or two making sound.
It was cooler in the shade, and Beatrice shivered as a breeze brushed past her.
As she continued, she heard something else. It was water, and her curiosity was piqued. She picked her way through the woods gingerly, coming to a stop at a high drop, water rushing below her. Her heart pounded from the height, and instinctively she stepped backward and looked away.
That must have been, she decided, why Owen hated rivers.
He had grown up seeing them as something to fear, because even as an adult she had to admit that it was a threatening sight.
She was vaguely aware that she would eventually be searched for, and so she made her way back without investigating further.
As she reached the garden again, she caught sight of Owen and Mrs. Forsythe looking around frantically.
“I cannot believe she has disappeared without saying anything,” he said loudly. “And you are certain that you did not see her?”
“No, Your Grace. Ella took her breakfast to Her Grace’s bedchambers, and then dressed her for the day. But then, Her Grace was left her to her own devices as always.”
“Surely, she will not have gone far? She would have said something.”
“Indeed. There is no need to concern yourself so.”
Beatrice pressed her back against a tree, feeling that it was best she remained hidden. She did not know why, but there was a sensation in her chest that told her she was doing something very bad and could not be seen there eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Perhaps I should check the forest,” he said, and Beatrice bristled.
“You have not set foot in there in years. Are you quite certain it is a good idea?”
“Of course I do not wish to go there, but I must make sure she has not– I need to know that she is safe.”
She heard him approaching, and though she knew the right thing to do was reveal herself, Beatrice knew what had happened last time she had angered him. They had spoken, and all was well, and she did not want to unsettle the peace between them. So, she had to be dishonest.
She hid behind another tree and listened as the Duke and housekeeper disappeared into the forest. Once Beatrice was certain that she would not be spotted, she crept across the garden once more and into the house, going to the kitchens and quickly making some sweets.
Fortunately, she worked quickly, and so she could reasonably pretend that she had been there all along. She was finishing them hastily when Mrs. Forsythe entered, her mouth opened in surprise.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “The Duke was most concerned for you.”
“I was here,” she lied. “My apologies, I should have said, but I wanted to make something for you all.”
She could tell that her housekeeper wished to argue or perhaps question the story further, but she did not. Instead, she looked at the cakes and took one, biting it and smiling.
“I must have missed you when I looked in here. Might you have been bending down?”
“I must have been. I will be sure to tell you where I am in future.”
“Do not worry, but you ought to ensure your husband knows. He is the one who worries for you.”
Beatrice nodded, taking a cake and leaving for Owen’s study. She tried to steady her heart before she knocked, hoping that he would be as easy to trick as Mrs. Forsythe had been.
“Ah, there you are,” he greeted. “Come in. Where were you?”
“I was making these,” she explained, handing him the treat. “Mrs. Forsythe must have missed me when she looked. Am I correct in assuming that it was your idea to find me?”
“Indeed. I apologize for it, as I know I said we would be living separately and you are of course free to spend your time as you please, but I was hoping that you and I might do something together today.”
“Of course,” she replied in an instant, a warm feeling spreading through her. “What did you have in mind?”
“I thought that we might practice dancing together,” he explained. “We will be receiving invitations to events soon, and with the circumstances surrounding our match we never had to dance with one another. I think it might be wise to practice.”
“Do you mean to say that you wish to ensure I do not have two left feet?” she joked.
“That is certainly part of it, but also, I have not danced in years. I was not in search of a wife, and as you know I have little interest in spending time in London, so I am most out of practice.”
“Then I think it is a splendid idea. It will also give me the opportunity to spend time in the ballroom, for I only saw it briefly during my tour.”
“Good. I have some papers to tend to, so perhaps we might meet there after teatime?”
Beatrice agreed, thanking him and leaving the study. She was most pleased to have gotten away with sneaking down to the river, but as she returned to her room she wondered just why she had to feel that way.
If the reason the forest was unkempt was because the gardener did not want to care for it, and it was nothing more than that, why was it forbidden for her to go there?
It did not make any sense to her; it seemed dangerous, but she was not foolish and knew to keep away from edges such as that one.
The feeling in her stomach when she was almost caught was enough to tell her that they did not want her there, but it did not make any sense why.
Regardless, she was to have a pleasant afternoon with her husband and did not want to ruin it by asking too many questions, and so she kept her thoughts to herself.
Instead, she spent some time looking at her new gowns, analyzing each one.
They were beautiful and heavy, no doubt from the expensive fabrics used, and each one a completely different color.
As if on cue, Ella knocked on the door and entered.
“Might you know the Duke’s favorite color?” Beatrice asked. “I am to dance with him later, and I wish to surprise him.”
“It is purple, I believe. His valet said that his favorite waistcoat is purple, at least.”
“Then one might assume he will wear it,” she considered. “Might you dress me in this one, then?”
She held up the purple gown and knew for certain that it had been his favorite. It was the most intricate with embroidery around the hemline and the fabric almost shimmered where the sun hit it. Ella fastened Beatrice into it, and she twirled in front of the mirror with a wide smile.
“It is so beautiful,” she sighed. “I could not have thought of something better if I tried.”
“He must care for you a great deal,” Ella agreed. “A man who has a gown like this made for his wife cannot feel anything less than deep admiration.”
And, as she stared at her reflection, Beatrice considered that her lady’s maid might be right. Her husband might like care for her in the way she was quickly beginning to like him.
And, if he did, she was in danger of wanting to know more about him.