Chapter 4
“How did you get your scars?” Tilly asked.
Edith sat up straight. She had lost herself looking out the window and hadn’t realized that Tilly would ask such a thing.
“Tilly, it’s impolite to ask a person such a question!”
“Why? Some of the older children back at the workhouse also had scars, and they did not mind speaking about where they came from,” Tilly replied, looking up at the two adults, who stiffened in their seats.
Edith glanced worriedly at Laurence’s hardened expression, who’d leaned forward in his seat to address Tilly. His blue eyes drifted up to Edith.
“You will both be safe from such scars,” he said gently.
Edith’s heart leaped faster than any horse, and she had to make a conscious effort to remember to breathe. She nodded slightly to indicate that she had heard him. Her throat was suddenly dry, and she was sure her cheeks were noticeably rosy.
“Are we going to live in a big house?” Tilly asked, breaking the moment and pulling Laurence’s attention back to her.
Laurence frowned slightly and remained silent, but that did little to deter her.
“Have you got horses? And a garden? What is the staff like?”
“Tilly,” Edith interjected, seeing Laurence’s scowl deepen with each question. “I think the Duke is tired after such a busy day. You’ll get to see everything soon enough.”
“But I want to know now,” Tilly sighed, leaning into her.
“Well, we still have a way to go before we arrive,” Edith said, while offering Laurence an apologetic look.
He huffed and turned to look out the window.
“Can you tell me a story?” Tilly asked, pouting slightly.
Edith nodded, wrapping her arm around the small girl.
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a big estate with her mama and papa…” she started, repeating words she had said many times to the little girl.
It didn’t take long for the rumbling of the carriage and Edith’s soft voice to lull the girl to sleep.
Edith sighed and leaned back in her seat.
“Remember our arrangement,” Laurence said, turning his attention back to her. “You and Tilly are to live your own lives, separate from me. You’re coming with me to Alderbourne for appearances’ sake, but you’ll both stay out of my business.”
Edith frowned. “I understand that, but Tilly is a child. It will only be natural that she will be curious about her new home. Saying that she isn’t allowed somewhere will only heighten her curiosity,” she said firmly.
“Curiosity is one thing, but overstepping is another,” he replied. “The girl must learn to respect the rules.”
“Tilly is only five, yet she’s already endured more rules than most adults can bear,” Edith said, looking at Tilly and gently rubbing her arm.
She sighed and looked back at Laurence, whose jaw was tightly clenched.
“I only mean I expect decorum,” he gritted out. “In return, I won’t interfere in Tilly’s upbringing, or how you decide to manage the household as the Duchess.”
“And if a child who has not been taught such a thing until now fails to understand the nuances you’re expecting of her? What then?”
“There is no nuance. She’s to stay out of my affairs. I won’t have a child meddling with the delicate duties to which I must attend.”
“Did you have no curiosity as a child?” Edith asked pointedly.
Laurence’s glare sharpened, and he leaned forward, his blue eyes now icy. “My childhood is not up for discussion,” he snapped.
“I am only asking you to have some compassion for the girl,” Edith replied softly.
“I will be compassionate, provided she shows me and her new home respect. Instill that in her, however you wish,” he said firmly.
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Edith muttered.
Her eyes drifted to his scars, then she forced her attention back to his face.
“You’re curious too,” he murmured.
“I don’t mean to be,” she said, only then realizing how near he was.
He had leaned in further, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her heart leaped at his unexpected nearness, so close that their noses nearly touched.
Looking into his eyes, she could see how the color shifted from an inky blue at the edge and gradually lightened into a cobalt blue toward the center.
His pupils widened slightly as he watched her.
His gaze then dropped to her lips, and her breath caught.
For just a moment, she let herself imagine the space between them disappearing.
“Your Grace,” she whispered.
Edith noticed that the hand resting in his lap shifted ever so slightly, as if he meant to reach for her face but was hesitating.
The carriage stopped suddenly, and Laurence glanced out the window.
“We have arrived,” he announced.
Edith’s mouth had gone dry, and desire had flared in her belly. Shaking off the spell, she cleared her throat politely, turned to glance out the window, and wondered whether any of it had been real or simply a figment of her overactive imagination.
She took a calming breath, then gently rubbed Tilly’s arm to rouse her. “Tilly, we’re here,” she murmured.
Tilly blinked her eyes open, looking around drowsily before gasping at the sight of the castle.
“Whoa…” she breathed, looking at the tall towers and ancient stonework.
Laurence opened the carriage doors, and Edith helped Tilly step down. Tilly looked around wide-eyed at her surroundings. Edith’s attention was more focused on the servants who were lining up to greet them.
“This is the new Duchess, Lady Edith Thornwaite, and our daughter, Tilly. I expect you all to treat them with respect,” Laurence said firmly, not using the word adopted to refer to Tilly, which Edith appreciated.
The servants nodded and bowed to both Edith and Tilly.
“It’s wonderful to meet you all,” Edith offered.
“And you, Your Grace,” the butler replied. “We will endeavor to look after you both during your time here.”
Edith nodded, then noticed that Laurence was no longer beside her. She looked to her left and saw him striding toward a large white horse. He swung himself up into the saddle and retrieved a leather bag offered by a waiting attendant.
“I am off to finish some business,” he said, before flicking the reins and riding away.
Edith’s mouth fell open as she realized that her new husband had all but abandoned her, but she quickly closed it and looked at the housekeeper, an older woman with salt and pepper curls tucked under her cap.
The housekeeper gave her a sympathetic nod. “He is a busy man. We can but welcome you, Your Grace, and your daughter,” she said. “This is Abigail; she will be your maid. And this is Mrs. Woodley; she will be Tilly’s governess.”
Edith looked at Abigail, who appeared to be a woman in her thirties with auburn hair, and Mrs. Woodley, an older and stern-looking woman.
“Good to meet you.” She nodded to the two women.
She felt Tilly’s hands grip her skirt. Edith looked down at the girl, who seemed intent on hiding in the fabric.
“Tilly… what are you doing?” she asked gently.
Tilly let out a shy murmur.
“You can tell me.”
“She looks strict,” Tilly whispered. “The matron of the workhouse sometimes looked at me like that.”
Edith’s stomach clenched at Tilly’s mention of the unfriendly workhouse matron.
“Tilly, you’ll be cared for here. You don’t need to be afraid of anyone,” she assured, before slowly leading the girl inside.
The main foyer was well-appointed, with wooden flooring covered by a large red embroidered rug. The walls were a deep burgundy, covered with portraits. Light streamed in through distant windows, and a large hearth filled with crackling logs warmed the room.
It was nothing like her first husband’s townhouse, which had been respectable but modest. She was not used to such grand, imposing, ancient rooms. The kind of place that had witnessed centuries of history. The kind that could swallow a person whole if they weren’t careful.
She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. This was her home now. Tilly’s home. She would make it warm, even if the stone walls wanted to stay cold.
Tilly gasped and ran over to one of the chairs, pressing on the fabric, her arms sinking several inches. She then tore down the hall.
“It’s huge!” she squealed.
“Tilly, come back,” Edith called out, not wanting her to accidentally stumble into Laurence’s private quarters.
Once Tilly had returned to Edith’s side, the housekeeper led the pair upstairs, pointing out rooms as they went. Tilly kept gasping at every new, delightful detail.
“I’m so lucky to get to live here,” she whispered.
Edith smiled warmly, glad to see her happy and excited.
Tilly’s chambers were simple, with a bed, a dresser, and a window that overlooked the gardens. Tilly gasped and all but jumped onto the plush bed.
“It’s not made of straw!” she giggled into the bedding.
The housekeeper looked at Edith with a raised eyebrow.
Edith shook her head, knowing now wasn’t the time to divulge Tilly’s history. She was then led to her chambers, which were slightly more well-appointed than Tilly’s.
A mahogany desk complete with stationery was tucked into one corner, along with a plush bed, a dresser, and a chair by the fireplace. The pale blue walls made the room feel larger than it was.
Edith’s eyes were drawn to the gardens. The large windows revealed the expansive paths and neat rows of bushes and flowers. Just beyond the gardens, she could see a field marking the start of the duchy.
“I see what His Grace meant,” she murmured as she took in the small homes in need of repair.
She turned to leave the room when something caught her eye. A door.
“Where does this lead?” she asked the housekeeper.
“Ah, that leads to His Grace’s chambers,” she explained with a smile.
Edith nodded and looked at the door for a moment, wondering if her husband would ever knock on it, or even open it. But she knew he never would.
The sun slowly made its way across the sky, and before long, the dinner hour had arrived. Edith changed into a suitable green silk evening dress and collected Tilly from her chambers.