Chapter 27
Beatrice knew that she could never expect anything more than her husband already offered, but that did not make it easier to accept.
It did not make any sense. They were friendly to one another, and when they danced together and laughed with each other she thought that they may truly come to feel something more.
Then, he would pull away once more. Beatrice wondered if he knew what he was doing, and she hoped that he did not, for she could not bear the thought of him hurting her so deliberately.
“Last night was rather fun,” he said over breakfast, looking at his plate rather than at her. “You did well.”
“You say that as though you were not expecting me to.”
He looked at her then, undoubtedly surprised by her more biting tone.
“No, I know that you can be very capable in company. It was a compliment.”
“Well, I do not need one. I am perfectly able to tell myself such things.”
“Beatrice, what has gotten into you?” he asked.
She scoffed, for he had to have known. The night before, he had told her boldly that he did not trust her and might never feel inclined to tell her all his innermost secrets.
The words still stung worse than any insult she had been pricked by in the past. They had shared the room the night before, but the moment was gone.
She did not enjoy it in the way she hoped to.
“Very well, do not tell me,” he sighed. “In any case, you might like to know that I received a letter from Lady Helena this morning. She has asked that we visit them in the north, and I am going to respond today, accepting it, unless you have any qualms about it.”
Beatrice paused for a moment, then looked back at him.
“Are they living together?” she asked. “I thought that they were yet to marry.”
At that, he bristled. Once again, his eyes drifted away from her, and he pushed his food around with his fork.
“I think it might be best that we ask her ourselves, when we arrive.”
Beatrice did not like that as a response, but it was not as though she could do anything to change it. There was so much that her husband was keeping from her, and she had been patient, but that patience was wearing thin. She wanted to know what he did, and as his wife that was her right.
At least, that was what she had always expected.
Owen left the room once he had finished, having not said another word to her. Beatrice followed suit and prepared for them to leave. Though uncertain of what they were to learn of, she was excited to see her friend again. She had missed Helena and had been hoping that she was well.
They left that afternoon, and the journey was miserable. It was raining, which made looking out of the window not as entertaining as usual, and they had to travel more slowly, which was not what she wanted to hear when the journey would already be long, and her husband was not speaking to her.
“Have I done something wrong?” she asked two hours in.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“You have been quiet. I do not like it.”
“My apologies. I have a lot to think about, and it is using a lot of my energy. That is all.”
“Well, if you share it with me, it will be easier. I am your wife, after all, and there is no harm in it.”
“There is,” he said simply. “I do not wish to burden you, for it is not something that can be easily fixed.”
“But it would be better if you and I faced it together, surely?”
“No, Beatrice. I can assure you that it does not concern you, nor am I angry with you at all, but this is something I must do alone. I cannot share it with you.”
And that was that. She was shut out again, and once again it had been after they had enjoyed one another's company. It was as though he was afraid of being close to her, which did not make any sense because he had always seemed so fearless.
They stopped at an inn that night, for the journey was too long to do in one day, and Owen arranged for them to have separate rooms. He left for his immediately, leaving Beatrice to go to her own.
However, she did not want to sleep.
Instead, she made her way to the sitting room, where people were drinking and laughing together, and took a seat.
There was comfort in knowing that she was not known by anyone there, and she did not have to be a powerful duchess nor a perfectly behaved lady.
She could simply be Beatrice, which she had not been able to be in a while.
“I have not seen you here before,” a lady said, handing her a drink. “I am Serena.”
“Beatrice,” she replied with a smile.
“Are you visiting the village?”
“No, I am traveling with my husband to visit a friend of ours. It seems a nice village, though.”
“It is, indeed. Where is your husband?”
Beatrice bit her lip, uncertain of how to respond, and Serena chuckled softly and sat beside her.
“My husband used to be like that,” she continued. “I shall assume that he has gone to his room, yes?”
Beatrice nodded, taking a sip of her drink.
“He has arranged separate rooms for us. I will admit, it is nice to know that I am not alone.”
“You most certainly are not. Men are easy to understand, if you are willing to think like one. Might you wish to share with a stranger?”
“I suppose. He is a good man, but I do not understand him. There are times where I feel like he wishes to love me, but just as I allow myself to believe it, he disappears again, pulling away as if he hates me.”
“And what is he afraid of?”
“I do not know. He will not tell me.”
“And yet, he will have made it known to you. There will have been something that has told you everything you need to know, and all you need to do is find the things that you have missed.”
“But I do not believe there has been anything. I do not know anything about him, and with how he is I do not believe that will ever change.”
“Then why did you marry him, if you do not mind me asking?”
Grimacing, she explained what had happened, and how the friend they were visiting was his betrothed at one time. Serena listened intently, laughing at parts of it, and then sighing when she finished.
“I see. Well, that will never change if you let it continue.”
“Which is precisely why I am trying to change things, but he will not let me. He tells me that we cannot discuss it, and that is the end of it. I wish that there was more that I could do.”
“Well, you have not been married long. As you said, you were strangers before. Perhaps all that he needs is time?”
Beatrice hoped that was the case. She sat with Serena a while longer, listening to her stories about her and her husband, and then as she went to her room Owen stepped out of his. He was dressed only in his shirt and trousers, and he was looking at her almost desperately.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“With the other guests. You went to your room, and I was not yet tired.”
“You should have told me. I prefer to know where you are.”
“All you had to do was come to the sitting room, if you wished to see me. I was not far away.”
“That does not matter. You should have told me you would not be in your room.”
“Then you should not have left me standing alone,” she snapped. “If you truly care for my safety, then act as though you do. It is not difficult, Owen.”
She entered her room without letting him say another word and sat on her bed.
His actions were confusing, and it was frustrating her to no end.
They were supposed to be a united couple, but they could not agree on anything at all.
Beatrice looked forward to seeing her friend, so that she could at last speak with someone that understood her situation.
In spite of everything, she slept well. She wondered if it was because she was exhausted, or perhaps because she had stood her ground.
It was clear that Owen was going to do exactly as he pleased, no matter how it affected her, and so she was more than happy to do the same.
It hurt to know that he had not changed his mind, but she had known who she was marrying and what he wanted.
As they made their way again, Owen cleared his throat, at last looking at her properly.
“Did you at least enjoy your evening last night?”
“Indeed. I met a very kind lady, and we talked for a while. It was nice to simply be Beatrice for a night.”
“You can be Beatrice when we are home.”
“No, I cannot. I am a duchess, with servants catering to my every whim and an enormous household to run. Last night, and I suppose during this visit, I will simply be myself, and I have missed that.”
“I understand. I miss being who I used to be, too.”
There it was once again. He was opening himself up to her, and while she wanted to be pleased about it, she knew what was going to happen. He would come close, only to pull away again, and knowing that made her less inclined to care.
And yet, she could not help herself.
“And who were you before?” she asked.
“Different. I liked horse riding, and sports. I was also partial to art.”
“And now you like to bake. Marriage seems to have changed you.”
“It has,” he chuckled. “Beatrice, I– I do not want you to think that I do not care for you. I do, as much as I can care for a person.”
It was nice of him to say, but Beatrice was not happy when she heard it. If this was the best that he could do, it meant that she would spend the rest of her life unfulfilled, and there was no changing that.
“Will we be arriving soon?” she asked, instead of continuing the matter.
“Indeed. I planned for them to have one of our smaller homes, and given that the weather has improved, I assume that we shall arrive within the hour.”
He was correct, and as they arrived Beatrice could not keep her eyes from the small household that they were visiting. It was what could only be described as quaint, and she loved it. It was almost like a cottage, far warmer than her manor house had been when she first arrived.
“It is lovely, is it not?” Owen asked. “It is one of my favorites.”
“I must admit, I like our home, but I envy them a great deal.”
Owen got out of the carriage and helped her down, and in spite of their disagreements Beatrice knew it was for the best that they put it all aside and enjoyed their visit.
Helena had already felt enough guilt about what had happened, and she did not want her friend to feel even worse knowing they were unhappy.
Helena answered the door without them needing to knock. She opened it with a warm smile, and Beatrice saw her rounded stomach at once. She looked away, but of course her friend had noticed.
“It appears I am further along than expected,” she explained, her smile not fading. “Come in, we have been most excited to see you.”
Beatrice embraced her friend, albeit rather warily, and looked at her surroundings. It was, indeed, a beautiful home, and perfect for the new couple and their child. She turned to Helena with a look of approval, but as she looked at her friend she faltered.
For the first time, she noticed something in Helena’s face. It was bizarre, for she had looked at her friend so many times in the past, but now there was something more…something different.