Chapter 9 #2
“Ensure the guest chamber is properly prepared. I do not want disorder when he arrives. I do not know if it is known to you all, but this is a good friend of mine, and I need him to be well taken care of.”
“It will be handled,” Thornton said. “The staff are already adjusting their routines accordingly. I must say, it is unusual for you to concern yourself so directly with visitors, Your Grace. You do not…You do not tend to appreciate having them here at all.”
Alexander’s gaze lifted slightly at that.
Thornton met it without flinching, and he was in truth the only servant he had that would dare speak to him that way.
He liked it; it meant he was not a tyrant, and that he was seen as someone that could be spoken freely with.
All the same, he did not like what he had heard, as it was a reminder that he was not half as sociable as he had once been.
“I concern myself with anything that affects this estate,” Alexander said.
“Of course,” Thornton replied smoothly.
The butler stepped forward then, adjusting the placement of the glass on the desk, though his attention did not fully leave the duke.
“If I may speak freely,” he said after a moment.
“You generally do.”
“You appear to have strong feelings regarding this arrival.”
The words were delivered politely, almost formally, yet there was no mistaking the implication beneath them. Alexander held his gaze.
“Strong feelings?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Thornton said calmly. “It is not often you notice household preparations in such detail, nor react to them.”
“You would be correct in saying that, and perhaps it is time for that to change. I do not wish to be a duke that neglects his duties, after all.”
There was a pause for a moment, and then Thornton finally spoke again, softer in tone but no less direct.
“In any case, it is rare for something so ordinary as a guest to draw this level of attention from you.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened slightly, though his voice remained steady.
“See that everything is prepared properly. That will be all.”
Thornton bowed his head slightly, but as he started to leave, he turned back.
“Of course, Your Grace. Though I suspect it is not the guest arrangements that concern you most. Should that be the case, I do hope that you say how you truly feel. We shall all be better for it.”
Alexander remained still for a moment as Thornton began to leave. The butler’s final remark lingered longer than it should have, not because of its content alone, but because of the ease with which it had been delivered, as though it were simply another truth already understood.
“It is not the guest,” he said, stopping his butler in his tracks. “It was the duchess’s reaction to it that has interested me.”
Thornton, who had not yet fully left the room, paused and turned slightly back into the room.
“Her reaction, Your Grace?” he asked, tone careful now, less observational and more measured. “I did not notice that it was peculiar in any way.”
“She smiled as though this house had been empty before the idea of company was mentioned,” he said.
“As though something had been missing that I was expected to notice but did not. It is strange, as I had truly thought that I was doing enough to make her feel at home here, but seeing and hearing her that way has made me question that.”
Thornton regarded him for a moment, expression unreadable but no longer purely neutral.
“And that troubles you,” he said rather than asked.
“It is irrelevant,” Alexander replied immediately.
“Is it?” Thornton’s voice remained calm, though there was a quiet insistence beneath it now. “Or is it simply something that you do not wish to recognize?”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed at that. Thornton did not move, and when he spoke again, his tone softened slightly.
“If I may, Your Grace, it is not uncommon for a household to respond to change in a manner such as hers. Her Grace might simply be trying to take her place in the household, and she has been presented with the perfect opportunity to do so. It might not be as serious as you think.”
Alexander’s jaw set. He wanted to believe that was the case, but he knew better. He had seen her, and he knew simply by looking at her that there was something more to it.
“That will be all,” he said at last.
A brief silence followed, and then Thornton nodded in acceptance.
“As you wish,” he said quietly. “I will see to the arrangements.”
He turned and left without further comment, leaving the study door to close behind him. Alexander remained where he was for a moment longer, but stillness no longer served him.
He moved before the thought of Eleanor handling matters herself had fully formed, leaving the study and crossing the corridor with steady steps that carried more intent than he acknowledged. He did not announce himself as he reached the upper landing. He did not call for her.
Instead, he stopped outside Eleanor’s bedroom door.
The house was quiet around him, the corridor dimmer. He stood there without moving for several seconds, his hand resting loosely at his side, as though waiting for a reason that never arrived.
No knock followed.
Alexander did not speak. He did not raise his hand. He simply stood there, listening, as though the act itself might explain what he had not yet allowed himself to name.
But he truly did wish to knock.