Chapter 16
Roderick made sure the women were situated in the drawing room before walking up toward the study.
He still could not believe he was the Duke of Alderwick and needed to decide what to do with the duchess.
Roderick paused on the stairs. It would take time for him to remember not to call her that.
Taking a deep breath, he ascended the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last.
Not due to exhaustion, although he did find the baron tiring.
It was also the slow realization that everything in front of him was all his.
Legally. He had known it for some time, even acting like it was a foregone conclusion.
But standing up on the stairs and looking down the grand hallway, it settled into his mind that it was reality.
Eventually, he made his way toward the sitting room to face Lord Fenwick. If he truly knew everything, then it was time for Roderick to act like the duke they both knew he was.
Lord Fenwick waited in the study, his back turned to the door, looking out the window toward the gardens. He glanced over his shoulder and frowned when Roderick entered.
“Where is my daughter?” he asked.
“She is downstairs, with her sister,” he replied, sitting in one of the large chairs on the side of the room. “She was quite shocked and upset by your invasion of her privacy. I never expected that you would be the type of man to do that.”
“I have a right to know what is happening to my daughter,” the man growled.
“But you do not do that by reading documents in her sitting room and dragging a truth into daylight that she was not ready to share,” Roderick continued. “You would not read her letters, so I do not understand why you believed this was acceptable.”
Lord Fenwick’s face soured. He marched across the room and sat across from the duke.
“You might disagree with my actions,” he began. “But you are now the duke, and thus you have a responsibility to my daughter, whom your family has wronged deeply.”
“On that, we are agreed,” Roderick said coolly.
“Then tell me,” the baron growled. “What is to happen with my daughter? She is no longer a duchess; she is just a woman with scandal attached to her name.”
“If you would let me speak,” Roderick said firmly, his voice carrying more than he had anticipated. “Then you would understand that I have no intentions of casting your daughter out. I am not that kind of a man.”
“Pretty words,” the baron scoffed. “But my daughter has no security. She is not truly a widow. She has no estate. She has nothing but the scandal that is following her.”
Roderick paused. He understood the man’s perspective and had not registered that he was talking until the words had left his mouth.
“She could remarry.”
“Who would marry her?” he scoffed.
“There are men in the area, gentlemen, who have been charmed by her, despite the rumors,” Roderick explained. “There is one that I believe you might know already. Lord Casterleigh. He recently returned from London. He has a considerable fortune and an estate nearby.”
“Lord Casterleigh,” the baron said, rubbing his chin as he considered it.
“Indeed,” Roderick nodded. “He has already shown some interest in your daughter, and I am willing to support the match.”
“Support it?”
“Indeed, financially if needed,” Roderick added. Lord Fenwick nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing.
“I believe this is acceptable,” he said slowly.
Roderick nodded, ignoring the tightness that settled in his stomach.
“Do not say anything to her about this,” Roderick added. “I will handle the matter.”
“I can agree to that,” her father replied. The man’s shoulders seemed to relax, his eyes warm, almost like he respected Roderick.
“Thank you. Now, leave me be. I have work that needs to be done.”
“I understand,” Lord Fenwick said. “I shall leave you to it.”
Roderick slumped into his chair after the baron left and put his head in his hands.
I said that much too easily. I understand that it is the practical solution. The right solution, I just do not believe that I would offer it like this.
Even as he attempted to reassure himself, he could not shake the tightness in his chest.
I do not understand …
Roderick rose from his chair and paced to the window. The gardens looked different than they had that morning. Smaller somehow, as though the estate had shrunk around him.
Lord Casterleigh.
He had said the name so easily, offered it up like an arithmetic solution, as though Lavinia were a ledger to be balanced and not the woman he had walked with that morning. He covered his mouth. Even if it was right, it did not feel that way. Not when he knew her feelings on the matter.
She will eventually agree that it is a sensible decision. She is a sensible woman.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
I will just have to weather the initial storm of her anger.
He knew he was trying to soothe his own pride.
He did not know how he would face her. Not yet.
Any time he started to rehearse the sentence in his head, it sounded worse than the last. Too cold.
Too apologetic. Too much. Too little. He told himself he needed time to find the correct words.
In truth, there would be no right words for what he intended to say.
He could only adjust the degree of the wrongness, and attempt to find the least bad option.
***
Roderick sat in the study for the rest of the morning, unable to face Miss Lavinia. His thoughts were disturbed when a familiar laugh drifted up through the floorboards.
He stood up and opened the door, just as a maid arrived.
“Ah—Your Grace, Mr. Bell has arrived,” she stuttered.
“I heard,” he said warmly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Of course,” the maid nodded, stepping aside as he walked past her.
He moved down the hallway, hearing the laughter growing louder. Something in his chest loosened as he heard Miss Lavinia laughing too. Roderick smiled to himself, glad that she was able to find some amusement.
“So, I told him, if he wished to be such a brute, he could take it up with my father’s prize bull. I hear the two of them have a great deal in common since the bull was castrated!”
“Oh, Mr. Bell, you are funny!” Cecily laughed.
“I can see why Mr. Vale enjoys your company,” Lavinia said. Roderick paused outside the room, his back against the wall.
I should speak to her about how we wish to announce my new title… Eventually.
Even with the heavy thought in his mind, he smiled warmly, listening to the three of them laughing. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
“There you are, Mr. Vale!” Mr. Bell cried out, grinning.
“I was not aware that you would be visiting today,” Roderick smirked.
“Well, I intended to see my friend, and instead I was pulled into such a charming conversation with the duchess and her sister. I was not aware Miss Cecily was such a wonderful conversationalist!”
“You flatter me too much,” Cecily said, her cheeks flushing.
“I do not believe anyone has flattered you nearly enough!” Mr. Bell chuckled.
“Now, the reason for my visit. The weather is lovely; however, I do believe the rest of the local gentlemen will have had the same idea and gone to the archery grounds. I was hoping, with Her Grace’s permission, we might have a rematch on the grounds of Briarwood Hall? ”
“I believe that would be a wonderful idea,” Roderick nodded. “I can have the servants set that up for us in the far garden so we do not disturb the ladies.”
“Actually,” Cecily spoke up. “Would it be possible for Lavinia and I to join you?”
Roderick’s eyebrows shot up.
“You know archery?” Roderick asked.
“Somewhat,” Cecily said hesitantly, glancing at her sister, who had gone quiet.
“Well then!” Mr. Bell laughed jovially. “I see no reason why they could not join in.”
Roderick and Miss Lavinia looked at each other. For a few moments, they did not speak.
“I am not sure—” she began.
“Oh, please, Lavinia!” Cecily cried, taking her sister’s hands in her own. “I do so wish to do this. I have been cooped up in the carriage with Father for several days. I have hardly stretched my legs, let alone done something interesting!”
Miss Lavinia stuttered.
“I…” She glanced at Roderick who nodded gently. “Alright.”
“Oh! Thank you!” Cecily cried out, pulling Lavinia into a tight hug.
The four of them walked out into the gardens, toward one of the open fields with some of the servants carrying archery butts. The smell of cut grass enveloped them. As the servants set up, Cecily was deep in conversation with Mr. Bell, the two of them examining the bows that had been brought out.
Mr. Bell insisted he go first, loosening the arrow with a dramatic flourish. Cecily laughed, preparing to take her turn next.
Roderick watched them carefully, making sure that Cecily performed competently. He knew Miss Lavinia would have his head if Cecily got hurt. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder. Miss Lavinia was standing far back, her arms wrapped tightly around her. He frowned.
I thought she would have been eager to challenge Mr. Bell and me. Unless…
He stepped toward her. Lavinia’s eyes were locked tight on her sister and Mr. Bell.
“Miss Lavinia,” he murmured softly. “When your sister said you both know archery. Did she mean she knows archery and you do not?”
He watched something flicker across her face.
It seemed to be a mix of things; embarrassment, certainly, but there was something else under it.
Shame, perhaps? Did she really feel shame that she had not learned one skill when she seemed so accomplished in everything else she took her hand to?
Miss Lavinia seemed to shrink in place. It struck him as an odd reaction to something so trivial as never holding a bow, and he found himself wondering how many other ordinary pleasures she had quietly denied herself over the years, simply for lack of occasion, or perhaps lack of permission.
“No,” she admitted. “In truth, I have never tried. Cecily was taught by her tutor when it became fashionable for young women to learn but…” she swallowed and glanced sideways at him.
“I never tried. I had the chance to try at my father’s home but I did not.
Then when I got here I knew all the equipment was available, but I did not have the occasion to learn. ”
“I see,” Roderick said gently. “I did not believe I would ever see a day where you did not excel at something,” he teased. She folded her arms tighter and looked across the open fields.
“Do not mock me,” she mumbled.
“I do not mean to mock you,” he said gently. “I am just surprised.” He looked back at Cecily and Mr. Bell as they continued firing arrows. “Would you like me to show you?”
For a moment, Roderick believed she would say no. Lavinia looked between her sister and Roderick a few times before her shoulders relaxed.
“If you insist,” she said. He grinned and shook his head ruefully.
“Come,” he said softly, guiding her to the second butt and handing her a bow. She examined it, glancing at Cecily before attempting to copy her hold.
“That is a good start,” he said. He stepped behind her, reaching around her to help her adjust her hold. “If you move your elbow, you will find it easier to hit the target.”
“Like this?” she asked, leveling her shoulder.
“Yes, like that,” he replied. She took a deep breath, and as she did, he caught the smell of lavender again. Roderick pressed his lips together and did his best to ignore it. “Now, take your arrow, and notch it against the string.”
She nodded, taking the arrow and adjusting the hold she had on it.
“Draw it back,” he instructed, careful to keep his adjustments appropriate. “Take a deep breath.”
She nodded again, inhaling deeply..
“Focus on the target,” he said softly. “And release the arrow with the intention of hitting it.”
She adjusted her aim one last time. Taking one last deep breath, she shot the arrow. Cecily gasped, Mr. Bell cheered, but Roderick was more focused on her, how close she was to him; the scent of lavender in the air.
The thud of the arrow in the butt took his attention.
He looked up, his eyes wide.
She had hit the target.
“Lavinia!” Cecily squealed, running to her sister and wrapping her arms around her. “You did it!”
“I did not hit any of the rings,” Miss Lavinia said, almost sounding disappointed.
“No,” Roderick agreed. “But you hit the target. That is still impressive as your first time shooting an arrow.”
“It is?” Lavinia asked, uncertain.
“Very,” Miss Cecily giggled. “Do you know how many times I missed the target before I finally hit it?”
“I assumed you hit it the first time,” Lavinia admitted.
“No,” Cecily shook her head. “Try again! You might even hit the first ring next!”
Lavinia nodded slowly, waiting for her sister to pull back before taking out another arrow. Roderick smiled as she tried again. Each time she released an arrow, he could see her form improving, her breath syncing with each shot. Eventually, he stopped having to correct her.
This woman will not rest if there is any chance that she is bad at something.
He grinned as he watched her.
Suddenly, on one of the draws, her sleeve slipped. Roderick’s eyes widened. The arrow flew, but he was not focused on it. Instead, his eyes were focused on the thin line of silver running up her arm.
He was not aware that she had a scar. Miss Lavinia noticed his gaze and quickly pulled her sleeve back into place.
The arrow embedded itself into the blue ring and Cecily ran over to her sister, cheering.
Lavinia did not cheer, however. Her eyes were on Roderick.
He took a deep breath and gave her a slight nod.
Now is not the time to ask about it.
He forced his attention back to the target, though his mind did not follow so easily. A scar like that did not come from a fall, a kitchen incident, or any other ordinary mishap that might mark a woman’s arm. He had seen enough wounds in his years working with horses.
He knew the difference between the jagged mark of misfortune and the straight line of something more sinister. If his father had been violent toward his mother, had he had the chance to be so toward Miss Lavinia? No, he had died on their wedding night…
What actually happened that night?
Mr. Bell cleared his throat, breaking into his thoughts.
“I am afraid I must make my way home now,” he said. “However, I believe the assembly ball is in two days. I do so hope I will be seeing you all there.”
“The assembly ball? Lavinia, I did not know! I should have packed my green dress. What will you be wearing?” Cecily peppered her sister with excited questions. Lavinia managed to let out a weak laugh.
“My blue dress, the one with the soft lace,” she decided. Cecily squealed and began talking rapidly about dresses and accessories, but Roderick’s mind was far away, his eyes still locked onto Lavinia.
That is not a scar that comes from an accident.
Their eyes met once more before he managed to look away.
Why does it bother me that I did not know about it?