Chapter 17
Seventeen
“Come on, you two, or we will be late for the show,” Rowen called up the stairs as she pulled on her gloves.
It was the day after her talk with Tobias in the library, and she had decided to take the children to the theater. She had debated asking Tobias to join them, but had decided against it.
The memory of his sadness when he had spoken of moving into the house moved her. She could understand trying to push painful things away.
Goodness knows, I have had to do more than my fair share of it.
But she also knew how lonely it could be, and much to her irritation and confusion, she found that the thought of Tobias feeling isolated made her chest ache.
“Coming, Mama.” Georgie appeared at the top of the stairs.
She was wearing a light blue dress and her usual red coat. Alistair walked up behind her, wearing a set of well-tailored tails. His hair was carefully styled in a way that made him seem even more sombre and more adult..
“Are you sure this is sensible, Mother? I still have much to study, and I am behind on my arithmetic.” He looked behind him, towards the stairs.
“One night will not do much harm.” Rowen ushered the children into the carriage. “And you love the theater! And I feel like I have scarcely seen the pair of you since we moved in here.”
“Well, our lessons are rather rigorous.” Alistair looked at Georgie, who was swinging her legs back and forth on the seat.
“Not that we mind. It’s good to learn so much,” Georgie chimed in. “And I enjoy fencing, too.”
“As glad as I am that you are both studying hard, I think it is important you also take a break.” Rowen smiled at them. “And that is why we are going to watch A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
It was Georgie’s favorite play, and Rowen was expecting her to launch into an excited retelling of the plot. Instead, her daughter simply looked out the carriage window and said, “It is not a long play, Alistair. You will have a little time to study when we are back, if you are worried.”
“I suppose that is true.” Alistair chewed on his lip.
“I really think it would be best if you gave yourself a little time to recover, darling.” Rowen took his hand in her own and squeezed it. “If you are worried, I can have a word with your tutors tomorrow and explain that I am to blame for you not studying this evening.”
“No!” Alistair and Georgie shook their heads vehemently.
“That won’t be necessary,” Alistair added.
“I do not mind. It will be no trouble, and I do not wish for you to be told off on my account.” Rowen was taken aback by her children’s reactions.
“It will be fine. And you’re right; it will be nice to do something fun.” Alistair gave her a bright smile.
“And we will sit in the Duke’s private box.” Rowen looked between the twins. “He has booked it for the season, and if you enjoy tonight, perhaps we can come back another time.”
“That might be nice.” Georgie was twirling a strand of her hair. “Do you think they will have things to eat at the theater? Like they did the last time?”
“Most likely.” Rowen tapped the purse in the pocket of her skirts. “And Tobias said you can have anything you want.”
“Did he not want to come?” Alistair asked.
“He has a lot of business to tend to, and I wanted to have you all to myself for an evening.” Rowen pulled them both into a hug. “I am not used to seeing so little of you.”
“You see us at meal times,” Alistair pointed out.
“I just like to know what is going on with you.” Rowen looked at each of them. “Why don’t you tell me a little about your lessons?”
“They are interesting,” Georgie said, but she did not elaborate. “Our tutors know a lot.”
“That is good.”
Considering their wages, I certainly hope they are knowledgeable.
Rowen looked at Alistair. “And are there lessons you enjoy more than others?”
Alistair shrugged. “They are all important.”
Rowen waited for him to say more, but he did not. Instead, silence settled over the carriage, interrupted by the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and the trundle of the carriage wheels on the road.
She searched for something to say. She was not used to her children not bombarding her with thoughts and questions. Usually, she struggled to get a word in.
“Are you looking forward to the play?” she asked.
“Yes.” Georgie was kicking her legs back and forth.
“And you, Alistair?”
“Of course.” Alistair ran a hand through his hair.
Rowen swallowed, trying not to let her worry show on her face.
The carriage drew to a halt, and they were bundled out and met by a steward. The man gave them a low bow and guided them to a beautiful private box.
Rowen managed not to gasp as she stepped into it. It had been a long time since she had been to the theater, and she had never been able to afford a box with a view as good as this.
“And will Your Grace require any refreshments? We have a selection of cakes, fruits, and of course, tea, coffee, and even hot chocolate. Or perhaps you would like some wine?” The steward stood with his hands behind his back.
Rowen expected the twins to spring into action, each placing an order, but they were silent. She looked at them and smiled encouragingly. When they did not speak, she turned to the steward and asked for a selection of cakes and a pot of hot chocolate.
“Of course, Your Grace. That will be three guineas and four.” The steward held out a gloved hand.
Rowen balked at the price, but then she handed the money over.
The steward smiled and disappeared.
Rowen turned to face the children, who were clambering into the thick, cushioned chairs.
“This will be a nice treat, will it not? A whole box just for us! And look at the view. You will be able to see everything.” Her tone was light and cheery. “And we will not have to worry about wax dripping on us like that awful time at the Swan. Do you remember?”
Georgie nodded, swinging her legs back and forth as she glanced out at the stage. “No one can stand in my way.”
Rowen frowned at her daughter’s flat tone. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“Why would you ask that? Do I look unwell?” Georgie’s eyes widened as she turned to face her. “I am fine.”
“I am just worried. You are usually so talkative and enthusiastic, and yet the two of you have scarcely said more than a few words this evening.” Rowen leaned towards her children. “If you are not feeling well, we can go home so you can rest.”
“I do not need to rest. I am strong and healthy.” Georgie shifted and looked away.
Rowen’s frown deepened. “Perhaps we need to change some of your lessons, if you are too tired to enjoy your favorite play—”
“No!” Georgie’s eyes were saucer-like as she rounded on Rowen. “I have to attend my lessons.”
Rowen’s heart twisted in her chest, but before she could say anything, Alistair chimed in, “We have a lot to learn, and it will take us some time to get used to it; that’s all. Let’s just enjoy the play.”
Rowen chewed on her lip but said nothing. Though Alistair was smiling at her, she could see the tension in his face.
“Look, it’s starting!” Georgie pointed to the actor who had just walked onto the stage. “We should pay attention.”
Rowen knew that Georgie hated the way most people spoke during plays; it was something that irked her as well. But the unease that coiled in her gut only grew, especially when the drinks and snacks arrived and her children ate them almost mechanically.
She wanted to understand what was going on. Was it their lessons? Was it all the change? But whenever she asked, they insisted they were both fine. At some point, she turned and found them deeply asleep.
Her heart ached as she brushed locks of hair from their faces. “What am I going to do with you?”
Not for the first time, Rowen found herself wondering what it would be like to be able to discuss such things with another adult. To share her worries and get advice. Adele’s children were too young, Cora’s children were too old, and Verity only had her dogs.
“They are exhausted, and I will have to wake them to get them back into the carriage, and again once we are home.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I wish I could carry you both. That I knew what was going on with you.”
I should be paying more attention to them, not being distracted by renovations and who knows what else.
Striking green eyes flashed through her mind, and she shook her head.
“He would no doubt scoop each of them into his arms and carry them without waking them.” The image tugged at her heart. “Not that I would ask him.”
Men will tire.
Just because something would make things easier did not mean it was the right thing. She looked at her children again and wondered what the right thing was.
When the play was over, she woke them and sent them straight to bed when they returned home. The image of their sleeping forms, their withdrawn nature, made her feel restless.
“One of Cook’s biscuits—that will be just the thing.”
She made her way to the kitchen, pulling on a thick dressing gown as she went.
The biscuits were easy enough to find, and she pulled the tin down, setting it on one of the tables and opening the lid.
“It seems we both had the same thought,” Tobias’s amused voice came.
Rowen turned to find him standing in the doorway.
“What thoughts have kept you awake, dear Duchess?” Tobias grinned at her and moved further into the kitchen.
“Nothing of particular note.” Rowen shrugged.
But as Tobias drew closer and she could see him properly in the light of her candle, she felt her cheeks flush. His dressing gown was undone, exposing his bare chest and a hint of his linen britches.
Rowen swallowed, unable to look away from his muscular form and the scars that ran across his body. Her fingers twitched as though a part of her wanted to trace the thin lines, so she grabbed a biscuit.
Tobias’s grin widened, and he winked. “Enjoying the view?”
Rowen narrowed her eyes at him, but was mollified when she realized that two faint spots of color had appeared on his cheeks as well.