Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Dahlia could barely sit still as she craned her neck to look outside the carriage window so keen was she to see all that could be seen on the way to Icedale Castle.
“Aside from my regular sojourn to Cosgrove, my family’s country estate, and a few of my relatives’ own country houses, I have gone on no other trips you see.
London is where I have always lived; it was where most of my family live as well.
” She smiled at Peter. “So, I am sure you can imagine how exciting I find this trip.”
“It is just trees and cliffs, Dahlia, have you not tired of seeing them yet?” Peter teased her at her persistent study of their view outside the carriage window.
“I find that every few minutes, the vista changes dramatically.” She pointed to a lone crag that jutted up into the sky. “Some minutes ago, that looked as if it had three brother crags. Now, there is only one!”
Peter laughed at this. His amused expression lingered on his face as he continued on with his book.
A few hours into their trip, they stopped at a local tavern for a meal and to change horses. Peter secured them a private dining room.
“Let us go for a walk. Can we spare the time? My legs need the exercise,” Dahlia said as they finished their meal.
At that point, the snow stopped, allowing the sun to shine for the first time that day. It turned the small town picturesque with its beams making the smooth white ground and the leafless trees glitter.
“How far away are we from Icedale Castle?” Dahlia asked as they walked.
“About thirty more miles.”
“Well, that is not so bad.”
“If the roads are in good condition, and if the snow continues to stop, and if we change horses only two more times, we might arrive before the hour of nine.”
“So many ifs! You might as well tell me that you do not know what time we shall arrive, Your Grace.” Dahlia smirked.
“That is travelling for you, Your Grace.” Peter smirked back.
Dahlia looked so swiftly at him that Peter realized he had addressed her in her married state for the first time. Dahlia Thornscroft, Duchess of Icedale. His wife. His heart skipped a beat.
Hours passed as they continued in their journey.
The moon was hidden behind the heavy snowfall that persisted for most of their trip to Icedale Castle.
The roads that had started clear as Peter and Dahlia left after their wedding breakfast were barely passable now.
In a short time, they would reach the castle.
Peter watched Dahlia as her head rested against the carriage seat.
The day’s events had finally taken their toll and had her drifting off to sleep.
He debated whether to wake her up now and give her ample time to prepare for their arrival or leave her in her slumber.
Knowing Dahlia, he thought it best to give her fair warning of their arrival. He reached out from across the carriage and gently shook her.
“Dahlia, we shall be arriving at Icedale Castle in a few minutes.”
“Hmm.”
“Wake up, Dahlia.”
“What?” Her eyes opened a fraction, but they definitely showed irritation.
“We are almost there,” Peter repeated patiently.
“What? Oh!” Dahlia sat upright then moved as if to exit the carriage.
Peter’s hand surged out to stop her.
“We are not yet there!” He could not stop his laughter.
“But you just told me we are there! You naughty man!” She slapped at his knee.
“I said we are almost there.”
“Oh, do stop laughing! It is only making the carriage shake the more, and I am mightily tired of being jostled about!”
“Tired of travelling so soon?”
“Peter, I beg you, do not tease a person who has just woken up from a stormy sleep.”
Finally taking pity on her, Peter made a small bow, honoring her request.
“But we really are very near.” He pointed out the window. “It is very dark, but you can see some of the windows, the ones with a light in the rooms. Mary and Claire’s rooms are the ones on the right.”
“How old are your sisters?”
“They have recently turned sixteen.”
“Ah, young ladies.”
“Yes, I have some time yet before they start their first season.”
“Exciting times.”
“Hmm.”
Dahlia had a question in her eyes, but Peter was glad when she did not voice it.
He was not quite sure how to go about with his sisters most of the time, but now that Dahlia was to add to their dynamic, he was all the more unsure.
The loss of their mother had shaken the twins, but it was their father’s demise that had them withdrawing completely from him and retreating into themselves.
It was the one aspect in his life that he could not completely control.
Outside, the lane that wound to the drive appeared. Torches that were meant to light the drive illuminated the castle walls as well. Closer now, the whole of the castle was seen at an advantage. And despite the dark, or perhaps because of it, it was rendered more grand, more dramatic.
“Peter, it is beautiful!”
Peter smiled at her. Dahlia studied the castle.
Her face reflected pleasure, anticipation, and…
hope? Peter stilled. As if waking up from an enthralling dream to a reality that was not quite satisfactory, he relived the events of the day.
He recalled the pleasure in her eyes when she saw a particularly beautiful vista, he recalled the way her smile turned triumphant when she thought she had outwitted him, and he recalled his own laughter and tender feelings of pity as he listened to her childhood stories.
The journey to Icedale Castle had never felt so short.
What am I doing? I should know better!
He could not allow her to hope. He could not allow himself to hope.
He knew this was for the better for both of them.
He knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes.
It took all of his willpower to gather himself.
When he was surer of himself, he opened his eyes again and found that Dahlia watched him.
The carriage came to a stop. Outside, a line of servants waited to greet them despite the hour.
“We have arrived,” Peter said. “Welcome to Icedale Castle, Your Grace.”
Mr. Cooper, the butler, and Mrs. Baker, the housekeeper, were the first to greet them. The other servants followed, all bowing and curtsying to their new mistress.
Dahlia was surprised when he greeted each servant by their names; there were by no means just a few of them, so it was more impressive to her that he remembered them all.
She noticed, too, the stark contrast in his manner as soon as he handed her down from the carriage.
His formal mien, his face, again an unreadable mask, were things that she had not seen in the past few days.
Suffice it to say that she had quite got used to either an annoyed Peter or an amused Peter.
And today, a teasing and happy Peter, by far her favorite Peter.
But this, the Duke of Ice, was definitely not her favorite Peter.
Uncertainty shadowed her initial excitement of their arrival.
What changed since our arrival at Icedale Castle?
After he had presented her to the staff, Peter led her inside.
“Are we to meet your sisters now?”
Peter nodded and gestured towards a door that was left ajar. From inside, feminine conversation could be heard. He entered the room first, Dahlia standing behind him.
“Brother!” exclaimed two voices in unison.
“Good evening, Mary, Claire.”
He stepped aside and led Dahlia forward. The twins both stood.
“Dahlia, may I present my sisters, Ladies Mary and Claire Thornscroft. Mary, Claire, I present my wife, Dahlia Thornscroft, Duchess of Icedale.”
My wife.
Despite her uncertainty, she felt her heart beat fast.
All three ladies curtsied politely.
“We are most happy to meet you, Your Grace,” Mary said with a reserved smile.
“As am I, but please, you must call me Dahlia.” Dahlia smiled warmly at the twins.”
“Dahlia then,” Claire agreed, reciprocating the smile.
Sisters.
She could not help it. As an only child, Dahlia had always been envious of her cousins; they all had siblings, some as many as eight even.
To be a twin! They were always together, were they not?
To have that certainty of companionship, to have never been alone—even in the womb—was a wonderful thought to Dahlia.
“Pardon me, Your Grace.”
Mrs. Baker stood by the door. Beside her stood Biddy, who had arrived with Dahlia’s luggage. Dahlia smiled at her, glad to see a familiar face.
“The mistress’ chambers are ready.”
“You must forgive us; it has been a very long day for us,” Peter addressed the twins. “We shall see you in the morning.”
“Of course, brother,” the girls replied, once again, in unison.
Peter turned to Dahlia, took her hand, kissed it, and bowed.
“I leave you in Mrs. Baker’s capable hands. Good night, Dahlia.”
She shot him a questioning look but curtsied, nonetheless.
“Good night, Peter.”
Looking at her one more time, it seemed to Dahlia that he was about to say something more but suddenly changed his mind. Instead, he turned and left.
“This way, please, Your Grace,” Mrs. Baker said warmly.
The housekeeper, lantern in hand, led the way to the mistress’ chambers.
As they walked, she regaled Dahlia with histories of the areas of the castle that they passed.
A more extensive tour of the castle would have to wait, and that, she hoped, would be conducted by Peter himself.
Now and then, they passed a footman or a maid, who bowed or curtsied to her.
“I am afraid that our late arrival has disrupted the castle’s routine.”
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Mrs. Baker said, smiling. “We have been awaiting your arrival with much joy.”
After a flight of stairs and many turns in softly lit corridors, they finally reached her chambers. Mrs. Baker opened the door.
“’Tis a sight, M’Lady—I mean Your Grace—you must see it!” Biddy whispered to her excitedly.
“Here we are, Your Grace.”
Dahlia stepped in and gasped.
“It is wonderful, Mrs. Baker!”