Chapter 3 #3
Her mother wore a gown better suited to a ballroom than to dinner, and the great hall was set extravagantly, as if they expected the queen to show up.
The silverware was polished to a shine, dinner napkins were neatly folded onto each plate, and the crystal goblets set in front of them were their very best, with gold flowers and vines that wrapped around the stems. She sniffed, the air smelled of roast hog.
Her father must really want the match to succeed, if he had gone to so much trouble.
She glanced at the midnight blue tapestry on the wall, bearing a white oak tree set above three stars. The sigil of the great Ashcroft House.
The weight of nobility had never felt so heavy.
Soon, Duke Howard arrived wearing a cream tunic bearing a red archer over his breast pocket—the sigil of House Howard.
Duke Howard greeted them pompously, nodding at each of them in turn, “Hello, Lord Ashcroft, Lady Ashcroft, Lady Elizabeth.” His eyes rested momentarily on hers before he took his place at the table, sitting between her and her father.
She suppressed a cringe at his nearness. How was she supposed to marry him if his very presence made her uncomfortable?
She smiled politely at the duke and spent the first part of the meal staring at her silverware.
The servants brought out an entire roast hog, a platter of herb roasted potatoes and an aged bottle of Rhodea’s finest wine.
“Excellent wine this,” Duke Howard said, pouring himself a generous measure and saluting her father with his goblet.
Her father nodded, looking pleased, and engaged Duke Howard in a conversation about business matters while she and her mother sat in silence beside them.
Nothing but beautiful dolls for their husbands to admire.
She was repulsed that this was to be her life, ignored, saying nothing while men spoke at the table.
Feeling depressed, Elizabeth swirled her goblet of wine, then took a sip. She admired the gold vines and flowers that decorated her goblet’s stem, so lifelike that she felt like touching them might crush the petals.
After a while, the conversation turned to the queen’s strained relationship with Faina.
“Did you ever find out about that nasty business at the ball?” her father asked.
Duke Howard patted his mouth with his napkin before replying. “Yes and no.”
Elizabeth kept her posture relaxed, but she listened closely. Across the table, her mother did the same.
“No one has claimed credit for the attack,” Duke Howard said, “but we can all guess who was behind it.”
“I figured as much,” said her father. “Faina is upset, surely, but their king was a fool to shelter so many witches. They harboured them in the hundreds. Faina can’t be surprised that Queen Rowena’s goodwill finally ran out, and she marched in to defend the treaty on magic.
They signed it themselves a decade ago.”
“You’ll be interested to hear that the queen’s council has received word there have been messages left on Faina’s walls. In the labour camps and major cities.”
“Oh?” her father asked, leaning forward in his seat.
Duke Howard nodded. “Always the same message: ‘Prince Thalias will return and save us all.’”
Elizabeth whipped her head around to look at the duke. Prince Thalias was dead. As was his elder brother. Both princes had died in the war last summer.
Rhodea had invaded Faina for breaking the treaty, and the Fainans—a peaceful farming people—had fallen swiftly to Rhodean blades. The Fainan king and queen had been forced to surrender and swear allegiance to the Rhodean crown to stop the fighting.
In the aftermath, Queen Rowena had proclaimed that the gods had spoken, and their victory was a sign that trusting witches only led to wrath and ruin.
The queen had offered her condolences for the loss of their two sons, and in a gesture of good faith, allowed the Fainan royals to keep their crowns and their palace.
Now, Faina was more or less free, so long as the kingdom paid Rhodean taxes.
“The second son of the Fainan king?” her father asked.
“The very same.”
“I thought he died in the fighting,” her father said, mirroring her thoughts.
“The Fainan monarchs claim to know nothing of the writing on the walls,” Duke Howard mused. “‘Thalias is dead,’ they say, and they sanctioned the cleaning of the treasonous messages on the walls as a gesture of good faith.”
“But you think there is a chance he might have lived?”
She glanced between the duke and her father.
Duke Howard nodded firmly. “I do. They never found his body. He’s out there somewhere, but I say he’s long gone. The boy is a hunted man, heir to a useless title and a conquered kingdom. If I were him, I would lie low for a long time. Perhaps forever.”
“Indeed.” Her father swirled his goblet of wine, turning the duke’s words over. “Only trouble awaits him if he returns.”
“I’ll say. I believe the attack was organized by a group of upstarts from Faina to frighten us. Commoners, no doubt, who are upset that their brothers and sisters have been thrown into camps for marching against us.”
Her father was silent for a time and then asked carefully, “And the queen does not find it suitable to relax the leash a bit? We have beaten Faina. The entire kingdom is under Rhodean control. If they starve in the winter, it will do nothing to mend the bad blood between us.”
“Bah.” Duke Howard waved a dismissive hand. “She doesn’t care about gaining their favour. Our queen wants to rule with an iron fist. She told them to bend the knee or die.”
“Hmm … I still disagree with Lord Wilkinson who, last I heard, was advocating to raise their taxes even more. We do not want them to revolt,” her father stated, tapping his finger on the table. “Perhaps I will write to the queen’s council.”
The duke nodded. “You do that. I trust our queen to do whatever is in Rhodea’s best interest. Her war on witchcraft and dark magic is one that I, for one, wholeheartedly support.”
“Us as well,” her father quickly agreed.
The duke turned his gaze to her and she repressed her instinct to recoil. His eyes slid down her frame. “And you, Lady Elizabeth? I trust your trip back was uneventful?” he asked, posing the question to her bosom.
“Er. Yes, your Grace. We made it home in good time. The road to the Calyx is always lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you are.” He put a hand on her knee.
Her fork clattered loudly to the floor. Her mother glared daggers at her as she hastily picked it up, glancing uneasily at the hand still resting on her silk-clad knee.
“Tell me, what do you like to do in your spare time?”
Her mouth opened to answer, but her mother interjected, “Oh, she is quite talented. She likes to read and embroider. She is all thumbs at the harp but can play a little on the pianoforte. Enough to entertain guests.”
“Good. Those are fine, respectable hobbies. I would take no issue with you continuing them,” Duke Howard said matter-of-factly, a man used to getting his way.
“After we are wed, you will move to my manor in Ambrosia.” Elizabeth froze.
She had forgotten how far away his lands were.
“You will spend your days there. However, you may return to your parents’ home for one year after the birth of each child so that you can have your mother to help guide you in raising an infant.
Then, you may return to present my new child to me, who is no longer an infant and is well behaved.
On that subject, I should triple your bride price for every healthy son you bear. ”
It was fair, generous even.
She closed her eyes heavily. “Anything else?”
“You will be displayed proudly by my side at every social event, and in return, I will ensure that you become a very wealthy woman, and your family grows even more prosperous than it already is. If your parents take ill or lose their fortunes, we will assist. If the queen sends the men of Briarton to war, we will follow.”
Her father nodded proudly from the head of the table. She wrinkled her nose. She had to admit, age and appearance aside, he was a fine match for her family.
Duke Howard looked at her expectantly.
“I see,” she said. Apparently, that sufficed because Duke Howard promptly engaged her father in conversation, and she was ignored for the rest of the meal.
She speared a potato with her fork and tried not to imagine her life tied to the man next to her.
After supper, Duke Howard turned to her, “Would you like to share a goblet of wine in the sitting room? In private, perhaps?”
She nodded glumly.
Her mother snapped her fingers at a maid, who rose to join them.
Elizabeth and her parents walked to the parlour, trailed by Duke Howard. The furniture in the parlour was elegant but uncomfortable, designed for perching delicately.
She smoothed her skirts under her as she sat down, praying that her parents would stay in the room so she didn’t have to be alone with the duke.
Her prayers went unanswered.
Her mother placed a gentle hand on her father’s arm and gestured toward the door. The maid smiled and curtseyed, making it clear that she would stay in the room as a chaperone.
Elizabeth suppressed her dismay, and schooled her features into a demure smile.
Duke Howard sat heavily next to her. His face was ruddy, with a bulbous nose and heavy lines around his watery blue eyes.
Thin strands of hair draped over the top of his head as if it could hide the fact that he was almost entirely bald.
He smiled at her, but it looked more like a leer.
“Lady Elizabeth, I’m pleased that we seem well matched to one another.
Is there anything you would have of me as a husband? ”
Elizabeth considered for a moment. “I would like to visit home several times a year. My friends and my family are very important to me.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother’s smile as her parents turned the corner. The servants left too, leaving them alone safe for the maid sitting on the opposite couch.
As soon as her parents were out of sight, the duke’s face grew unyielding. “I will not be taken for a fool. You will not be permitted to go where I cannot see you for large parts of the year, gallivanting off with your friends and speaking with men.”
He glanced about the room and then at her, his gaze shrewd and calculating. Apparently, he had noticed her lack of enthusiasm about the match and her concern about his age. Perhaps he was not as naive as she thought.
“And hear me when I say that if you bear another man’s son to my fortune and family name, I will make you regret the day you were born.”
A cold lump of dread coiled in her gut.
“Of course, your Grace, I was not suggesting such a thing,” she murmured, fixing a smile to her lips, and ignoring the shudder that ran down her spine.
“You will not embarrass me. I am a patient man, but that is one thing I will not stand for. You will be my wife, quiet, beautiful, and always by my side—where I can see you. You will remain at the estate, forbidden to leave without my supervision until you bear my first child.”
He pulled her to her feet. He stood nearly a head shorter than her, making her feel like Lady Lorine and Lady Patricia would collapse into fits of giggles at the sight of them.
The air felt suffocating, like it was closing in around her. The collar of her dress felt tighter, and she struggled to keep her breathing even.
“Now that we understand one another, I'm sure we will have many happy times together,” he said. “And you there,” he barked at the wide-eyed maid. “You will not breathe a word of what you heard here, or I will make you unhireable in any house of reputable name.”
To Elizabeth’s shock, the maid of her father’s house was petrified, nodding with fervor before averting her gaze to the floor, subservient to the duke.
Duke Howard kissed her on the cheek, his lips thin and vile.
“Farewell, Lady Elizabeth. I will see you soon.” The duke sneered at her, and her temples began aching, as if her body was revolting against being forced to stand there and say nothing.
She weathered Duke Howard’s farewell with a tight smile and fled to her chambers. She called her maid and nearly tore off her corset, chest heaving.
“I brought you some soothing tea, Lady Elizabeth,” her maid said, giving her a worried look.
She took a deep breath. “Thank you. Sorry. It is just another headache.”
The maid gave her a concerned look, which was quickly replaced with a smile.
Elizabeth focused on her breathing, chastising herself for getting so worked up. This was twice this week she had allowed herself to get a headache. She sat, staring at nothing, focusing on taking deep breaths until her headache decided to diminish.
Later that night, she sat on her terrace and gazed out at the stars. Her thoughts kept wandering to the handsome demon. She wondered if he was the sort of demon who made deals with mortals.
Her thoughts drifted back to Duke Howard, and she closed her eyes with a shudder.