Chapter 4 #2
His response puzzled Louisa, whose honest reactions usually matched her feelings.
Why must the Duke of Northwick mask his affection for the children?
Why must he pretend to some secret wickedness of heart that was entirely invisible to Louisa?
Why did he express such cynicism about the most important things in life, like love and marriage?
These things were all mysteries, but as Louisa was trying to follow Aunt Beatrice’s guidance and avoid personal conversations with this man, she could not ask him.
When they were together, she talked only of the children, the road and the weather.
This civilized stand-off seemed to work well enough for several days.
Occasionally, Louisa did see the duke regarding her with some benevolent amusement, usually after she had expressed a spontaneous view on something from the carriage window. Still, she bit her lip rather than ask him the source of his humor, not wishing to provoke any kind of argument.
“This coaching inn is always busy,” Aunt Beatrice remarked as they disembarked their carriages on the fourth evening, the duke standing ready with the driver to enter first and finalize the party’s arrangements.
“I shall share a room with Louisa, close to the children and maids. Likely the manservants must share too, although I am sure the innkeeper will find a private room for you, Your Grace.”
Nodding, the tall, dark-haired man walked ahead into the inn, checking the pocket watch in his dusty blue waistcoat as he went, the coach driver at his shoulder.
After the duke’s short exchange with the bewhiskered innkeeper, and then a visit to the retiring room, Lady Esher and Louisa were shown into a private dining room with the children while the servants went to prepare the bedrooms.
“Did you see how low the innkeeper bowed?” Louisa whispered to her aunt while the dining room door was still open and the duke still in the public rooms outside. “He did everything faster than when we travel alone and you send in a manservant to sort out the rooms.”
“Well, our companion this time is a duke,” laughed the silver-haired lady.
“Do not be deceived by seeing him so often beleaguered by these two children in such an informal setting, my dear. Out in the world, the Duke of Northwick is a man of rank and a personality to be reckoned with. You may find our food arrives faster and our rooms are better tonight too.”
Louisa nodded, wondering at the unfamiliar influence that he wielded.
She had no memories of her own father, only knowing him from a portrait with her mother that hung in Aunt Beatrice’s drawing room, and there had been virtually no other significant men in her life.
There was the Duke of Wexford, of course, but Louisa only saw him at home with Seraphine and the children.
“There is roast ham and cauliflower tonight,” pronounced the duke as he returned to the room.
“It should be served presently. I have told the innkeeper that our party is tired and wishes to retire as soon as possible. The maids will have their food upstairs and be ready to put the children to bed whenever we call them.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” sighed Aunt Beatrice, settling back in her chair with a contented sigh as Fanny and Ezra played together at her feet with Fanny’s dolls. “It is a luxury indeed for an elderly widow to have a gentleman settle these things occasionally.”
The duke smiled and took a seat at the table.
“Did you never think to marry again and secure yourself the convenience of a husband, Lady Esher?” he asked.
Lady Esher laughed aloud, personal conversation evidently being more acceptable between a duke and dowager of advanced years.
“You think I ought to have found another husband purely to save myself trouble at inns and coaching stops?”
“I have heard of people marrying for far less tangible benefits,” the Duke of Northwick jested in turn. “To meet the expectations of their relatives, or keep up with their friends, or for some dream of love…”
“Love is not a dream!” Louisa objected, unable to help herself. “Marrying for love is surely the most noble motive a man and woman could have.”
“I cannot stop you from thinking so,” he commented with infuriating amusement in his eyes, as though Louisa’s words were ridiculous but politeness forbade him from saying so.
Aunt Beatrice patted her niece’s arm soothingly, sensing the fundamental clash of principles and ideals at play in the room.
“Sometimes love can be a dream, and sometimes it is real,” she told her niece.
“You view the world in an optimistic light, while His Grace is presently taking a pessimistic view, and I am a realist who has seen things for what they are. All perspectives can exist alongside one another, can they not, Your Grace?”
The duke gave an amused and slightly dismissive shrug that irked Louisa all over again.
Thankfully, at this point a relay of serving girls arrived, moving in and out of the private dining room with platters of food, piles of crockery and jugs of water.
Setting down a good-sized piece of roast ham, one began carving it while the other laid the table.
Fanny sniffed appreciatively at the air and then yawned.
Each time the door swung open, a burst of cheerful chatter and laughter drifted in from the public bar and dining room.
Louisa wished briefly that they were eating in there alongside other travelers, but she supposed it would hardly be seemly for a duke to dine with farmers, solicitors and traveling businessmen.
The children were also too young to be about among strangers at this hour.
As the table was being laid, their coachman put his head around the door and requested the duke’s attention over some matter relating to the horses.
“You shall have a full plate waiting for you when you return, Your Grace,” promised Aunt Beatrice as he followed the manservant out again, “and a good glass of wine too. We shall not dine without you, shall we Louisa?”
Louisa shook her head with a small smile, restraining her gaze from following the duke’s departing figure out through the doorway. She had nearly fallen into another argument with him, despite Aunt Beatrice’s advice on personal conversation. She really must try harder to keep a respectful distance.
“But I shall cut some ham up for you, Ezra,” she told the little boy who had been watching the carving of the meat with eager eyes. “You and Fanny shall eat first and get to bed sooner. There is no need for you to wait on the duke’s return.”
Taking a plate from the serving maid, Louisa diced the ham and laid some vegetables on the plate, together with a small slice of buttered bread, before pulling Ezra onto her knee.
“I can cut my own ham,” declared Fanny, sitting beside Louisa and taking up her cutlery very competently. “I’m not a baby.”
“Very good, Fanny,” Aunt Beatrice commended. “Now, lay your napkin on your knee and show your little brother how to eat properly. Good table manners are very important and Ezra shall learn them from you.”
Very proud of herself, Fanny gave an excellent display of table manners for her five years, polishing off a good-sized portion of food. While initially enthusiastic about the ham, Ezra’s interest faded when it came to the other components of his meal and he wriggled and groused on Louisa’s lap.
“Want milk!” Ezra complained, turning an unhappy little face up to Louisa.
“Ezra always has warm milk with his supper,” Fanny informed them. “He never eats all his food without milk.”
“Then I suppose he must have it,” sighed Louisa, putting the little boy down on the ground and getting to her feet to ring the bell since all the maids had now returned to the busy public dining room.
A minute of waiting and another pull on the bell brought no maid.
“I want milk!” said Ezra again, his tired little face now growing grouchy. “Milk!”
“You should say ‘please can I have milk?’ Ezra,” Fanny corrected him, a nicety entirely wasted on a fractious infant whose eyes were now filling with tears.
“They’re probably very busy,” observed Louisa. “It does sound even louder out there. I shall go and ask for the milk directly.”
Without thinking to wait for any comment from Aunt Beatrice, she hurried out into the public area of the inn, hoping that Ezra would not descend into a complete tantrum before her return.
Out in the loud and crowded public dining room, Louisa thought she saw the flash of a dusty blue waistcoat on a tall, dark man going out through the main doors. It was only a glimpse but for some bewildering reason her heart jumped at the sight and her feet almost changed direction to follow.
Swallowing the unexpected and ridiculous sensation, Louisa made herself walk towards the bar instead, politely excusing herself through the gathered diners and drinkers. She was familiar with inns from traveling with her aunt and perfectly capable of fetching milk by herself.
Why on earth should I wish to follow the Duke of Northwick?!