Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Flick! Ye canny wee beastie, stop that!"
It was early on a cool morning and Alexandra was walking briskly around the house, getting some air, when she heard the bellow of her husband's rough, warm voice from further into the gardens.
It had been a few days since their discussion in the study and she had already made progress in hiring more staff to keep the large grounds under control and working with the servants to ensure that the new people were onboarded smoothly.
Hector had not asked her to account for her actions or withdrawn his offer of support for her plans so she had begun to carefully trust that perhaps he might actually mean what he had said.
It would be refreshing and strange but at least pleasant to have such backing from such a powerful man.
Should she interrupt whatever he was doing with the little dog that followed the gardener and his lad around? She felt a wave of unfamiliar hesitation, unsure of her welcome.
"That's a lad! That's it!" She heard another, quieter call and her curiosity, something she had always thought had been strangled out of her over the years, bloomed.
Surely there was no harm in her exploring her own gardens. If she happened across her husband in the process, then he could not be angry about it, after all, she was not to know he was out here - so long as she was completely deaf.
Alexandra turned her steps towards a part of the garden dedicated to cunningly trimmed hedges.
She had explored this part of the garden previously and found a little clearing with a seat and what looked to be the beginnings of plans for a fountain at the center of the hedge paths.
Perhaps it was part of the water garden that Mrs. Hopkins had spoken about.
She carefully threaded her way through the hedges, hearing the sounds of play coming from the center. Once she was at the very last row of hedges, she peeked carefully around and nearly cried out in shock.
Of all things, Hector was crouched still in the clearing, a trail of seed in front of him, and the little dog playing at the same game, lying down on his belly very still and giving the whole matter his entire attention.
In front of them at the end of the seed trail were a pair of rooks, large and glossy with black feathers reflecting the sun. They had taken up a perch on a small tree and were considering their supplicants with interest, clever eyes judging the distance between the seed and the man with his dog.
Alexandra could hear Hector murmuring now, soft and sweet, "That's it, ye bonny creatures. Come on down and share a meal with us. We're your friends, we daenae mean any harm. Come and eat with me, that's right."
The rooks fluttered, hopping a few branches closer, and Alexandra could see how excited Hector was at this progress.
"What are you doing?" she hissed from her place, half hidden behind the hedges.
Hector started just a fraction, the little dog hopping up to its feet and driving the rooks back to the very top of the trees.
Before the dog could start into a flurry of excitement, Hector rested one of his large hands on it, soothing it.
"Now, Flick," he said softly. "Nay need to lose your head.
It's just a tree speakin' to us in the voice of our wife, isn't it?
Just a very pretty tree with a very braw voice. "
"Your Grace," Alexandra hissed, cheeks flaming.
"Even says me title the way that she does," Hector continued, keeping his eyes on the birds who were watching him back with curious suspicion. "What do ye think, bonnie creatures? Has a spirit come to try to lure me away with the voice of me wife?"
"What are you saying?" Alexandra bit her lip hard, feeling a most unladylike peal of laughter starting to bubble in her chest. "What are you doing?"
"Ah, spirit of the garden," Hector said, dipping a hand slowly into a pouch and scattering seed closer to the tree. "It's magic I'm attemptin' here. The creatures of the air are considerin' being me friends. If ye stay still where ye are, spirit, then ye might see a little bit of it."
Alexandra heard the request in his playful words and pressed closer to the bushes, trying to hide her presence from the rooks.
As she watched, one of them dropped off the tree in a low flying swoop, then another, getting closer to the ground with each pass until it landed and snatched some of the food before flying off again.
Hector let out a whoop of delight, promptly frightening the other rook into flight, and leapt to his feet, dancing a jig with the dog darting gleefully around his feet. "Ach we did it! We did it, Flick!"
"What on earth was this about?" Alexandra asked, stepping into the clearing at last.
"Rooks are canny creatures," Hector said cheerfully, smiling down at her.
His whole face beamed with delight, and the sheer joy of it made her cheeks flush a little.
"They know that there's danger in a big man and his dog.
Flick and I want to make them feel safe here to have their babies and live their days.
We've been tryin' to convince them that we are friends for a few weeks and this is the first time that they've come to feed while we're in the clearin'. "
He was clearly so proud of this thing, this small victory with a pair of wild creatures, that Alexandra felt her heart squeeze a little. "Well, I'm very glad for you."
"Did ye notice?" Hector said, offering her his arm. "There's a spirit in this garden that sounds an awful lot like ye when it tries. I am going to need to have a care so it doesnae trick me to some folly."
"Your Grace," Alexandra said reprovingly, taking his arm nonetheless. "You are perfectly aware that it was me speaking to you."
"Am I? Was it?" he grinned at her, unrepentant. "I daenae ken, strange things happen in the green of the outdoors. We had better return to the house where we'll be safe."
She sighed heavily, but could not suppress a smile as they started back towards the house. He was a strange man to be sure, her husband. And yet there was something a little charming about his nonsense.
Hector cursed softly to himself, glancing at the clock in his study.
Over the last week, he had struggled to make it to dinner, his business demanding as much attention as he could give it.
Laroux had brought him numerous meals to eat late into the night, but Mrs. Hopsted had stopped by that day to tell him that he'd been missed by his wife at the meal and should consider attending.
There really was not the time, but the idea of the wee lass sitting at that long table on her own, wondering if she was at fault for his absence, was enough to drive him from his work and draw him towards the dining room.
So many changes had happened over the last few days.
There were extra servants now, a valet who tried very hard to help Laroux in getting him to wear the appropriate clothes for a gentleman every day instead of just when he went to the city, and a number of footmen and maids.
The estate had always been tidy, but he had to admit the extra hands were making his people's work easier and the house actually sparkled with attention.
Mr. Laroux clearly approved, and it was obvious that Mrs. Hopsted liked and admired his wife from the way she talked about her.
The Duchess could do no wrong in her eyes; her plans to reach out to local producers to find extra supplies for parties were met with such wholehearted approval that he had teased the woman about preferring his wife to himself.
"Of course I do, Your Grace," she had said back with a straight face, eyes sparkling.
"Such a clever, bright lady she is! And she is so good with the girls.
They were scared that she might not like the games that they play, pretending to sneak in and steal off with buns and tarts and suchlike, but she understood immediately and made a whole game out of pretending that she was trying to catch them, but never quite finding them out.
It was a good day for Murray when you brought her here. "
The thought of his usually prim and proper wife turning a blind eye to the girls' play and even helping them have more fun brought a smile to his face as he entered the dining room.
He found her sitting already at one end of the table in a simple dress, her hair tied back from her face as severely as ever.
"Your Grace," she said, a little surprised, standing to bob a curtsey. "I was not sure you would be able to join me tonight."
The fact that a meal together was a surprise smote him to the heart, and he smiled at her gently. "Ach, I'm sorry for me absence. I've been fearfully busy with all the business goings on, but I shouldnae have let it keep me from yer side."
"It is quite all right," she said calmly, sitting back down. "I understand how busy things can get."
It seemed too little an excuse and too much for him to keep arguing the matter, so instead, he crossed to the other end of the table where his place had been set.
"I cannae even see ye from here," he said, frowning. "What is this, a table or a racecourse?"
"It's quite normal as tables go," she said seriously, only a little twitch at the corner of her mouth giving her away. "Perhaps you need glasses, Your Grace?"
He laughed, delighted at her wit. "Ye have a quick tongue, wife! But I'll be moving a wee bit closer to ye, I think."
He gathered all the many strange things that apparently he needed to eat his evening meal and moved up to sit at her side. "That's better. Nay reason I should be deprived of yer beautiful face durin' dinner, is there?"
She blushed a little, and looked down at her soup in confusion. "If you are joining me you should really be at the head of the table -"
"Nay bother, lass," he said cheerfully. "I'm sat now and sat I will stay."
A girl he hadn't had a chance to meet yet brought out soup for him and placed it carefully in front of him, spilling a little on the tablecloth. She gasped and glanced at both of them in terror.
"I'm - I'm so sorry, Your Graces!"
Hector opened his mouth, ready to soothe the girl, when Alexandra spoke first.
"It is nothing for you to be worried about, Gracie," she said firmly. "Bring back a damp cloth and clean it up and then go back to what you were doing. It's just a spill."
The girl fled from the room in relief and Hector smiled a little at his wife, pleased that she felt the same way he did about accidents. "Have ye had a pleasant day then?"
"It was productive," she said primly, taking the most elegant bite of soup that he had ever seen. "I am very pleased with it."
"I'm glad to hear it, I havenae made as much progress as I would want, so I will likely be workin' late again." He tried the soup, found it pleasant, and supped it with relish. "I'll be glad when the business is finished with - what is it?"
She was staring at him so intensely that for a moment, he wondered if there was some small critter like a spider or a beetle in his hair.
"Your Grace, I don't want to presume -"
"Lass, Alexandra," Hector sighed, smiling a little at her. "Call me husband from now on. None of this Yer Grace nonsense. We are man and wife and it doesnae feel right to me. Or ye can call me by me Christian name, it's good to be getting on with."
A flush rose in her cheeks. "Hector. I don't want to presume to teach you manners -"
"Och, teach away, I daenae have any the way that a duke is meant to." He grinned at her and was pleased when she relaxed a little and smiled back, clearly appreciating the freedom.
"Very well then, when you eat soup, you must not make a sound with it, and you are to eat from the side of the spoon, not the front - it is considered very ill-mannered indeed to slurp." She demonstrated and he laughed merrily.
"Ill-mannered it might be, but it is mighty pleasant. Ye should try it sometime," He grinned at the appalled look on her face and took another bite of soup with the elegance she had demonstrated. "There, does that please ye, wife?"
She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling a little for the first time. "Exactly right... husband."
The word made a warmth start in his chest and he found himself smiling back just as gently. Whatever magic she was doing to him, he hoped it would continue.