Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“Did you just say ‘redecorations’?”
Mr Johnson nodded as the duke continued to look at the carefully crafted list that had been made by the duchess.
“During her tour of the estate yesterday, it seems Her Grace felt... inspired to make a few changes to the house. Mrs Greene oversaw the process that met some queries and it seems as though she fully agrees with the duchess. She added her own notes and specifics of the items and resources needed in the page just after the one the duchess provided,” the butler replied.
Thomas could not take his eyes off the page containing the information Jane had written out.
Her handwriting was the most beautiful he had ever seen, the scrawls across the lines neat and elegant, much like her.
Somehow, it reminded him of how she had looked on the day of their wedding, when he had first laid his eyes on her.
Even with the rain that had drenched her from head to toe, she still looked regal enough to be mistaken as a princess of a kingdom that treasured her greatly.
He could hardly believe that she was not a princess even as she had regarded him with suspicion, her chest heaving as she blinked in spite of the wetness pelting against her face lightly.
Thomas had not thought he would find his bride there when he had decided to ride off into the forest when it seemed as though she had decided to flee from the ceremony. But the daffodil in her hair had been a sign he could not ignore and something had stuck his chest at the sight of her.
He did need a wife to care for his son. It was the only option he had left and he was determined to do whatever he could to help Reuben live a normal life. But looking at Jane... he had known a woman like her had no desire to be confined. Such a lovely bird did not deserve to be put in a cage.
But still... he needed her. He had not intended to persistently convince her, but that was what he ended up doing.
Thomas had expected that because she had not wished for or wanted any of what she had been given – a marriage to a man disliked and feared by many, a title and a child to care for and heal somehow – she would have to be cajoled or pestered into doing any of it.
It had been quite surprising that what followed had not been the case. She had seemed eager to meet Reuben, had entertained his request to paint her and now, he was being told that she sought to act as the duchess.
Who was this woman truly?
Thomas rubbed a hand over his face, feeling somewhat frustrated because he still had been unable to forget their kiss. Even after two days, he still had many regrets – most of them were because he had not taken the chance to taste her properly.
Last night, he had been so drunk on the soft, sweet scent that clung to her skin and he nearly leaned in again to steal another kiss –
No, he groaned internally. I gave my word that nothing of the sort would happen between us. I must control myself.
He looked down at the paper and sighed. He had no problem with her doing what she wanted, but he did hope she would not feel as though she was being made to give more than had been asked of her.
At least this would keep her occupied for a while and out of his way. The less their paths crossed, the better. With her attention on Reuben and now the redecoration of the estate, she would not have the time to spare him any thought.
“Whatever she needs,” Thomas said, handing the papers back to the butler without even reading the second one drafted by his housekeeper. “Ensure that she gets.”
Mr Johnson bowed deeply, “As you wish, Your Grace.”
The man left Thomas to his thoughts and his mind recalled how his heart had been thrilled to hear Reuben speak. He had been... ecstatic, beyond words and immensely relieved, but he did not wish to startle the child or disrupt the gentle air that surrounded his son and the duchess.
But still, it was almost miraculous, how far Jane had managed to get in such little time by Reuben’s side. A part of Thomas felt... bitter, that a stranger had achieved what he could not, despite the fact that he was Reuben’s father.
Was he really so inferior? He supposed he should hardly be surprised, since he had been a disappointing child. It was only fitting that he made an equally disappointing father.
“Perhaps my time and presence would be better served elsewhere today,” he mumbled to himself, looking out of the window by his desk.
The sky was clear and the weather had been breezy all day. It seemed a good a time as any to go for a ride. Thomas rose up out of his seat, ignoring the itch in his fingers that longed to hold a brush between them as he headed to his room to change into his riding breeches and boots.
“He approved of my idea?” Jane stared at the housekeeper in surprise.
“Without a fuss, I hear. We have already contacted the necessary professionals to help with the redecoration. As soon as you have relayed your plans to them, we can begin right away,” Mrs Greene told her with a grin.
Jane felt utterly giddy with anticipation. She had hoped the duke would see reason in her plan, but she had expected some sort of resistance. To hear that he had trusted her with his home as much as he trusted her with his son made her heart happy.
She wanted to ensure that she did a great job, so that both Reuben and his father would feel safe and happy within their home.
“Well then,” Jane said, raising her chin. “I suppose we should get started then.”
In less than an hour, a Mr Paul Barete arrived to provide his advice and expertise on Jane’s choices and suggestions concerning the redecoration.
“Such finesse, such eye for detail!” he gasped after she had taken him around the house and pointed out the places she wished to change and what furniture and decorations she intended to use.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I must say, you are a visionary ahead of your time! Have you done this before? You seem to be well-versed on the subject of home making!”
Jane felt her smile wilt slightly, but she forced herself to appear cheery.
“No... I supposed I learned most of what I know from my mother. She put her best foot forward in every way, when it came to decorating our house. She was quite wonderful to watch,” Jane explained quietly.
“Oh, goodness. I did not mean – I am sorry, Your Grace. I did not know she had passed. May her soul rest –”
“Oh, no. No, no,” Jane coughed, startled by his implication. “She is not – my mother is very much alive. She is just... we are somewhat estranged, is all.”
“Ah,” Mr Barete nodded sagely. “I understand completely. My father and I do not speak because he does not approve of my occupation. He thinks it is not ‘manly’ to care so much about homes and how they look. So, while he and my brothers wilt away, balancing musty old books, I have the pleasure of witnessing the most beautiful forms of architecture and helping families bring their dwellings to life with something as simple as the right kind of wallpaper. They might not approve of us, but as long as we fully intend to be happy with the choices we have made and are content with the lives we lead, we owe them nothing, Your Grace.”
His words were like a soothing balm over her soul.
Truly, Jane had idolized her mother when she was young.
She thought the world of how capable and adept her mother was at cooking and ensuring the house practically glowed whenever her father was to have guests.
But every time the guests arrived and sang Harriet’s praises, Arthur would inevitably take credit for her efforts.
“I very nearly had to teach her every thing about the importance of colours when matching draperies, furniture and carpets together. And my wife can be as stubborn as a mule, at times. It had taken her ages to learn such simple concepts,” Arthur said when a lady had sung her praises about the impeccable colour scheme of the drawing room.
“She has such dull taste buds. It took years for me to refine her palette because I refused to less than elegant meals, much less serve them to my guests,” he had scoffed when a gentleman complemented the chef’s cooking and commended Harriet on her excellent choice of menu.
It was always like that. Her father beat her mother down until she had become a shadow of herself, moving behind him and echoing his thoughts and opinions. No matter what Harriet did, she would always be inferior in Arthur’s eyes and as Jane grew older, he began to see her the same way too.
And Jane could not stand it, couldn’t understand why her mother had chosen to take it all without even flinching. She had learned early on that there were battles that could not be fault if the one being attacked no intention of defending themselves.
“Why, thank you, Mr Barete,” she replied earnestly. “I do intend to be happy here. In whatever way I can hope to be.”
It surprised Jane to find out that she meant it. She did not know what lay ahead of her in the next three months, but she hoped to be able to make the most of the time she would spend here.
“I am sure you will do just fine,” the man grinned, then he gestured with his hand.
“I have taken note of what it is you need for your rooms and corridors. The wallpapers look good, so you might only have to replace certain ones for specific rooms. Some of the furniture you wish to replace are available, and the ones that aren’t will have to be custom made and that will take a few days.
Nonetheless, quite a number of things you desire will arrive this afternoon, so you can begin to work on your soon-to-be gorgeous home! Not that it is not lovely as it is.”
Jane smiled it him, “Thank you very much, Mr Barete. You have been a tremendous help. I am truly grateful.”
As he had promised, many pieces of furniture had arrived that afternoon and Jane got to work with the servants, instructing the footmen to carry the furniture into the rooms they were meant to be in while the maids arranged them properly.
Jane had even replaced the chairs and table in the dining hall, hoping to suggest to the duke that he and Reuben start having at least one meal together every day. She had hoped to build some semblance of trust between them and foster some softness as well.
She had visited Reuben briefly to see him, the little boy looking absolutely thrilled to see her. He had tried to tug her close to the pile of books he had clearly set out to read that day, and pouted when had told him,
“I am sorry, darling, but I am afraid I am still quite occupied at the moment. But I will be back to tuck you into bed. You have my word.”
Reuben had hesitated for a moment, then he nodded reluctantly, Jane smiled sweetly at him and patted his cheeks gently before she took her leave.
With all her walking about, she had expected to have crossed paths with the duke multiple times. But she did not see him even once.
Perhaps he is preoccupied with something at the moment, she told herself as she continued to oversee the work that was going on.
The next day, the work continued on, with her efforts starting to shine through. There was still much to be done, but Jane was proud of what she had accomplished.
It was evident the staff approved as well, because she could hear them chattering excitedly, apparently giddy that the house had begun to look somewhat brand new. She only wished that Thomas would see her work and credit her for it.
But unfortunately, it seemed as though whatever held his attention at the time had no intention to give him a moment of reprieve. It had been nearly two days since she had seen him, and something in her felt dismayed by it.
Still, Jane intended to make him happy with her efforts, which was why she had wandered off to take a look at his room while the redecoration was going on.
When she had proposed that the bedrooms also receive some changes, the staff informed her that the duke did not particular care for such and he did not like anyone touching his things.
“We have replaced some items and furniture around the house over the years, but His Grace has never once allowed us to do so in his room,” Mrs Greene divulged in concern when Jane had proposed the idea.
Still, she wanted to take a look at the state of the room, just in case there was something within that was in dire need of replacement.
Thankfully, it appeared the duke was away from the estate again, so she went to his room, carefully stepping inside with a swirl of curiosity within her. Almost at once, it was quite obvious what the housekeeper had told her.
The room was quite clean and organized, but the furniture and drapes were quite worn out. It was clearly in need of renovation and she thanked her instincts for not allowing her to forget completely about the room.
With a soft sigh, Jane began to inspect the room, scribbling in the little book the housekeeper had given her to take down all the notes of the things she wished to write down. It was easy to observe Thomas’ room because everything had been organized in a way that allowed for unrestricted movement.
As she carefully made her way to his bed to take in the condition of his nightstand, she found a piece of paper on top of it. It appeared to be a rough sketch of some kind, and Jane peered closer, trying to make out what it was.
It took her moments to realize it was a depiction of a barely clothed woman looking over her shoulders as she clutched a sheet to her form, concealing her hips and buttocks from view, whilst her shoulders, arms and even a thigh could be seen.
And it took only a few seconds more for her to realize that she was the one being depicted in the drawing, the tell-tale splash of freckles across the woman’s nose and cheeks compelling her to raise her hand up to her face.
Heat rushed to her cheeks and just as she stood straighter, suddenly eager to be anywhere but in the room. She started to turn around when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
“What are you doing here, duchess?”