Chapter 9
VERDANT HOUSE
Your Grace.
Right after the wedding had ended, the rector had addressed her like this. She was so used to addressing the Duke like this that for a moment she didn’t realize that he was talking to her. Because by a simple exchange of words, she was now the Duchess of Voss.
The carriage rolled through the London streets, and for one brief moment, Marigold wondered why they were taking this route then she realized that she was not going back home. This luxurious carriage was taking her to her new home.
“Your things have already been transferred,” the Duke broke the silence.
Marigold almost jumped up hearing his voice though he was sitting right across from her in this ride. She simply nodded. A few days back, before the wedding, the Duke had asked her if there were any things that she would like to be transferred from Cove Manor to his house.
As she was going through her few possessions, Marigold realized she didn’t have an awful lot of her old life that she needed moving forward. After all, in the same missive, the Duke had pointed out that there was no need for her to take anything from her old wardrobe.
She had thought to complain. She looked at the lush interior of this carriage, the dark velvet and the polished wood, even the heavy ring on her finger. She decided not to concern His Grace regarding a few gowns.
“I realize, of course,” the Duke continued, “that this is quite a change. You must be allowed a few days to settle into your new home.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said.
“No need to thank me. All you need to do is rest, learn the house, and then we can talk.”
Marigold knew exactly what that talk regarded. After all, despite what beautiful fairy tale story the Duke had sold everybody, this was still a simple transaction. The Duke had kept his part of the deal, and now, it was her turn to provide the information that was vital to him.
“I shall make sure to settle as fast as I can, so I can provide the information regarding Johnny’s gang.”
“And I appreciate it,” the Duke said.
There was still another part of this deal that Marigold kept circling back to. Providing information about the gang was one part of the requirements he had set. The other was more… physical in nature. The Duke had bluntly requested they produce an heir.
It was a tad more complicated than simply recounting all the times she had met with Johnny’s gang, her interactions with Donny, all of their headquarters, and the span of their operations.
Procuring an heir to the title of Duke of Voss required of them a certain entanglement that simply made her cheeks blush.
“And may I be so bold as to,” Marigold coughed, “inquire regarding the fulfillment of the other goals of our deal?”
The Duke blinked slowly, like a predator unwilling to let the prey out of his sight. His lips curled into a smirk that Marigold couldn’t decide if it was cruel or warm. One thing she knew was that it looked like the smile of a man who enjoyed being asked that question.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” His voice went significantly lower than when he was talking about her transferred things. “We shall see to it in due time.”
And then the Duke looked out the window to signal that this conversation was over.
Marigold felt her stomach flutter, and she knew it was not entirely from nerves.
She must have been lost in her thoughts because suddenly the carriage stopped.
She had seen Verdant House at night the last time she visited, but she never realized that it was a massive house, simple but imposing and elegant.
And she would have certainly noticed the ivy that climbed up one wing.
The Duke was the first to step out of the carriage, and as before, he made sure he was the one who took her hand and helped her down. The entire staff was lined up outside, more than a dozen servants in crisp uniforms.
Two of them approached, and the Duke introduced them to her as the butler and the housekeeper, a married couple named Mr. and Mrs. Hodgins.
Marigold studied the couple who were the complete opposite of each other.
Mr. Hodgins was tall and austere, quite serious-looking, and Marigold knew that he was always proper, so much so that Marigold felt instantly assessed.
On the other hand, Mrs. Hodgins was round, shorter than she was, with kind eyes and a genuine smile.
“Welcome home, Your Grace,” she told Marigold as she curtsied.
Exactly as expected, the butler simply bowed stiffly. With an eyebrow raised to her husband, Mrs. Hodgins took a step forward and smiled even wider.
“I am happy that finally Verdant House has a duchess.”
It didn’t escape Marigold’s attention that she was greeted more cordially in a house in which she came basically as a stranger than in her own house.
“I am sure we will work together nicely, Mrs. Hodgins,” Marigold said.
The Duke moved beside her and placed a light, barely-there hand over her lower back, a clear sign to the staff that she had his full approval.
“I believe it’s best to leave you with Mrs. Hodgins, Your Grace,” the Duke said.
Marigold was still admiring that impressive ivy climbing the walls and didn’t quite catch the fact that the Duke was talking to her.
“Your Grace,” the Duke repeated.
Marigold was almost startled when she realized that he was addressing her. It still hadn’t registered that she was now a duchess and that she would be addressed accordingly by him.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she managed to utter.
And then the Duke left, walked into the house, and just disappeared, leaving her standing on the steps with the staff still watching and Mrs. Hodgins still smiling.
Marigold needed to remind herself that this was all a transaction.
She had always been alone. At least now, she could be alone more comfortably.
“Please, Mrs. Hodgins,” she said calmly, “lead the way.”
* * *
She didn’t have much time to mentally prepare herself for her new position, that was true, but even if she did, she would still be overwhelmed by the scale and the luxury of her new home.
Last time she was here, she was ushered to a small drawing room using the service entrance. But as she entered through the main entrance, she felt her jaw slack because there was a sweeping imperial staircase with an impressive balustrade that led to the upper galleries with towering columns.
Marigold looked back at the entrance to make sure that she was still in London and not Olympus because if there was a palace of the gods, this would likely be the entrance.
“Would you like to see the picture gallery, Your Grace?” Mrs. Hodgins asked by her side.
Marigold was not sure that she wanted to be faced with a long history of a house like Voss, but Mrs. Hodgins seemed eager and excited, and Marigold didn’t have the heart to deny her this joy.
After all, from the expectant looks of everybody, Marigold deduced that there wasn’t much social activity going on in Verdant House.
From the little that she knew of the Duke, she didn’t think that he would be one to host balls.
They all hoped that her presence would change that.
She was led to a long gallery with a very tall ceiling and impressive arched windows at the top that let the light in.
There, Marigold was presented with ample proof that she had married someone whom she didn’t even know.
One after the other, there were portraits of the Duke’s ancestors.
And there she was, the new Duchess, wondering about her own husband’s parents or siblings.
One after the other, she was presented to most of the main rooms of the house: the drawing room in gold brocade, the dining room with the table that seated thirty people with silver candelabras and a fireplace large enough for her to stand in.
Mrs. Hodgins even took her to the library with floor-to-ceiling books and leather chairs.
“His Grace rarely uses most of the rooms,” Mrs. Hodgins said once she noticed Marigold lingering at the library.
“For some reason,” Marigold smiled, “I don’t find that hard to believe.”
A smile bloomed across Mrs. Hodgins’s face, the little woman and her sharing an understanding.
“Then allow me to present to you a very impressive music room,” Mrs. Hodgins teased.
“Let me guess,” Marigold looked around the well-advertised room with a piano, pianoforte, and many other instruments that she didn’t know anything about. “His Grace doesn’t play.”
Mrs. Hodgins smiled and nodded. And yet the tour was not over. She still had to see the ballroom, the beautiful morning room, and of course, last but not least, the green drawing room which was the one she had met the Duke in that first night.
In each and every room, she could sense the opulence of the place, from the weight of the silk curtains to the smell of lemon polish and of her own footsteps on marble. She was married into a wealthy and powerful house, and she was asked to act like the lady of it.
“You must be very tired.” Mrs. Hodgins must have sensed her inner panic. “Allow me to show you to your rooms.”
Marigold nodded though the plural of the word “rooms” did not escape her. She was led to the wing of the ducal bedrooms, one next to the other. Mrs. Hodgins opened the door to one and let her in.
The main room was enormous. A four-poster bed draped in cream and gold dominated the room. It was also lavished with a silver mirror, a small table with an armchair, luscious red carpets, and fresh flowers on the mantel of the big fireplace.
“Through here is your private room,” Mrs. Hodgins showed her a small drawing room with a desk and a bookcase. “The other door leads to the joint bathroom.”
Marigold looked at the door on the far wall. Joint was the word that caught her attention. It meant she and the Duke would be using that specific facility.
“Is there anything else that you would like, Your Grace?” Mrs. Hodgins offered.