Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The carriage ride to Glastonbury Manor was not as awkward as it could have been.
That was only because of the Dowager’s presence.
She sat beside the Duke, while Arabella sat across from them.
Throughout the long, silent ride, the Dowager wore a knowing smirk as she looked between the two of them.
She had something to say, or Arabella thought, but she refused to speak.
Rain pounded the windows, fogging them up so it was hard to see through. That made her focus inside the carriage. And while Arabella tried her best not to stare at her husband, she found it pretty difficult.
He carried himself with an air of purposeful authority.
Not mean. Not dark. But powerful, commanding, the kind who expected things to go his way.
Beyond that first impression, however, Arabella could not stop examining his face.
Those sharp, perfect features, his full lips, and his gray eyes that carried a hint of sadness.
He never looked at her, and it seemed deliberate. No doubt, he was angry with her. No doubt, he was still deciding whether their marriage would continue.
As soon as she got the chance, Arabella would apologize. She would not bend, however. Nor would she submit. But she would try to find a middle ground. Anything to save her having to return to her father.
“Ah, here we are,” the Dowager spoke suddenly. “Go on, dear, take a peek. I know you are curious.” She gestured to the window.
Arabella smiled to herself, appreciative of the Dowager’s humor. Then she shuffled across the carriage seat and looked out the window, through the fog, eyes narrowed as she took in her first view of what would be her new home.
“What do you think?” the Dowager asked. “Be honest.”
“It is… big,” Arabella said, not knowing what else to say.
The Dowager chuckled. “Very apt.”
The manor emerged through the mist as if from a dream.
It was an ancient home, almost a castle, but not cold looking or scary.
It stood tall on a small hilltop, its walls covered in green vines, its large windows the type that would see its interior shine warm and welcoming on days when the sun allowed it.
Indeed, the sight of the manor instilled in Arabella a sense of hope.
She had never seen it before, she had never thought to picture it, but as the carriage crept closer, she found that there was something comforting about the manor.
A home that she did not know she needed but was suddenly grateful to have.
“Caspian, might you say something?” the Dowager prompted.
He frowned at her. “Such as?”
The Dowager rolled her eyes and looked apologetically at Arabella. “I wish I could say that he was not usually this moody, but that would be a lie.”
The Duke scowled at his cousin, and Arabella laughed softly.
Soon, the carriage was coming to a stop and Arabella’s nerves returned. It was easy to live in a state of disbelief on the journey there, but now that they had arrived, it all felt so real… Not to mention, inescapable.
Arabella found that her legs were shaking as she stepped down from the carriage. Even when the Duke offered her a hand, she struggled to find her footing. And while such a gesture might have appeared warm and comforting, he was awkward about it, as unsure as she appeared.
“I will leave the two of you to it,” the Dowager announced as they slowly approached the front door.
“What?” the Duke asked sharply. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, you do not want me getting in the way,” she sighed and waved him down.
“I am sure there is so much for you to discuss. My company adds nothing.” She grinned at the notion.
“Besides, I must be getting home. I have a party to attend.” Before the Duke could say anything else, the Dowager had climbed back in the carriage and closed the door.
Then, it started back down the driveway in the direction they had come.
The Duke stiffened to see her go.
Arabella, on the other hand, felt a slight sense of relief. She had wanted to be alone with the Duke, needing to speak to him privately. And hopefully, once she did, his attitude might change. She needed it to, if only to make herself feel more confident about what was to come.
“Your Grace,” Arabella began cautiously as they approached the front door. She walked beside him, hurrying to keep pace. “There is something that I need to… That I would like to say.”
“What is it?” he asked as he pushed the door open.
“What we spoke about earlier…” she began. “The things I said to you. I wish for you to know that—”
“Your Grace!” Arabella was cut off as they stepped into the foyer. “Welcome home!”
“Mrs. Robertson,” the Duke said kindly. “It is good to see you.”
Mrs. Roberston was a servant, or so Arabella assumed. She was elderly, short, and had a round face flushed bright pink. But her smile was generous, her black eyes were kind, and she had a presence that was warm and friendly, making Arabella feel immediately at ease.
“This is Mrs. Robertson,” the Duke said to her with a sweep of his hand. “If you require anything at all, she is who you will speak to about such things.”
“Oh, you flatter me, Your Grace,” Mrs. Roberston chortled. “And might I ask who this is?”
“Nice to meet you,” Arabella began. “My name is—”
“Later,” the Duke cut her off. “For now, Mrs. Robertson, know that you will be seeing a lot more of Miss Witherington. I will explain the particulars at another time.”
Arabella scowled at the Duke. He was obviously still annoyed with her. Likely, he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. Also, she wondered if the way he behaved was his effort to prove that he was in charge. This was his home, and he wanted her to know it.
It is something that my father would do, were he in the same position.
“What about Timothy?” the Duke asked Mrs. Robertson. “Is he here?”
“Oh, he is somewhere,” Mrs. Robertson sighed. “I will send for him, but you know how that boy can be.”
The Duke chuckled at the comment. It caught Arabella by surprise, as she did not know that he was capable of such humor and warmth. Indeed, he even smiled, and that told Arabella that whoever Timothy was, that he was someone close to the Duke’s heart.
“Who is he?” she asked.
The Duke looked down at her, the smile dropped from his face, and he looked ahead. “This way.” He strode forward. “I shall give you a tour.”
Arabella glared daggers at the back of his head.
Again, she got the distinct impression that he was trying to put her in her place, and again, she was reminded that she needed to apologize for earlier. Although, seeing as he was behaving with such arrogance, she was not so sure that she wanted to do that anymore.
Where she had previously resigned herself to the benefits of this marriage, convinced she was doing the right thing, she now wondered if she had gotten ahead of herself.
Who is the true Duke? The one who helped me, or the one I am now forced to deal with?
“Might I speak to you for a moment?” she called as she fell in beside the Duke; his long strides forced short, hurried steps from her. “There is something I wish to say.”
“Such as?” he asked, looking ahead as if determined not to see her there.
“Earlier, when we spoke…” She had to quicken her pace. “I did not mean to come across as ungrateful. I know you are trying to help me, and I will always appreciate that.”
He said nothing as they walked.
“But you must understand that I have spent my entire life being controlled by my father, and all I want is to know that I am not destined for the same fate as that. I will do as I must to make this marriage work, but you must understand that I also desire my own freedoms. That I know I am not a prisoner to you.”
“You are not a prisoner,” he said, still not looking at her. “And this marriage will be perfectly agreeable, and you will have no reason to complain. As long as you do as you are told. I will not have you disobeying me at every turn just to prove that you can.”
“And I will not be told what to do, just so that you can prove that you are in control of me.”
He did not answer immediately. Looking ahead, they walked through large hallways, their pace still quick, and while Arabella knew that he had heard her, she wondered if he would simply ignore her comment. Again, an effort to establish his power over her.
“Well?” she pressed. “Did you—”
“I heard you,” he said sharply. “As I have said already, you have no reason to worry, as long as you do not give me a reason to regret this marriage.”
“What does that mean?”
“Here we are.” He turned sharply through a vast doorway.
Arabella came to an abrupt halt, her anger boiling away because she could not say if that conversation had gone well or not. She felt that it had not and was still unable to shake the feeling that he was testing her.
She scowled, fumed, and had no choice but to follow her soon-to-be husband.
It was a library, where the Duke had led her.
The largest that she had ever seen. For a moment, Arabella was able to forget her anger as she gaped wide-mouthed at the high ceilings, the walls that stretched endlessly, and the dozens of towering bookshelves that held what had to be thousands of books.
“This is…” She turned on the spot, still gaping. “I have never seen anything like it.”
“I thought that this would be a good place to start,” the Duke said from the center of the room. “Despite your concerns, you should know that I am as new to this arrangement as you are. I have no idea what to expect from it.”
She tore her gaze from the towering shelves and saw the Duke watching her. Hands clasped behind his back. Shoulders squared. His stance was confident, but his gray eyes revealed the truth to Arabella.
He was nervous, just as she was. He felt confused and uncertain. Hoping to seem in control, she finally realized that this was exactly what he was missing.
What was more, she had no doubt that he hated the fact.