by Sue Barr
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
It was done, they were married. Max took her hand and lifted it to his lips, smiling as he kissed her silk encased hand.
“Your Grace,” he murmured and gave her hand a squeeze.
“Oh, Maxwell. I’m so happy,” she whispered before they turned and strode arm in arm to the back of the cathedral.
“Not nearly as happy as I,” he whispered back and they stepped into the bright sunlight to the cheers of a small crowd which had gathered outside the church.
Max hurried her down the grand steps to their waiting carriage and helped her settle before joining her. Lizzy and Fitz, both laughing and smiling, came to the carriage door window.
“We shall meet at Matlock House in a few minutes. Aunt Lucinda set aside a suite of rooms for you to freshen up before the wedding breakfast.” Darcy reached for Georgiana’s hand. “You are absolutely beautiful, Georgiana. Mother and Father would be so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Fitz.” She felt tears begin to surface and Max quietly handed her a monogrammed handkerchief. She turned tear filled eyes towards her new husband and smiled. “You are the best of husbands.”
“I shall always strive to hold that title.” Max said before tapping the roof with his cane to signal the driver to move on.
Chapter Ten
The carriage lurched forward and Georgiana propped her hand on the seat to maintain balance. She and Maxwell were leaving the comfortable posting inn they’d repaired to, shortly after the wedding breakfast. By early afternoon they expected to arrive at Adborough Hall, ancestral home of the Kerr family for nearly one hundred and fifty years. If she and Maxwell were blessed with a son, his legacy would continue.
She craned her neck to peek out the window and watched with longing as Maxwell continued to ride Pericles beside the carriage, slightly behind her line of sight. A puzzled frown creased her forehead, again, as she pondered the events which followed what she thought had been a magical, love filled ceremony.
The wedding breakfast had been a jumble of well-wishers and loads of family hugs and there had barely been enough time for her to change into her traveling clothes before she and Maxwell were barreling down London Road toward Yorkshire.
They’d arrived at the inn and the proprietor had escorted to her own bedchamber. At first, nothing about that seemed unusual. In fact, she’d been grateful for the extra time to prepare. A trifle embarrassed, she’d donned the gauzy gown Lizzy helped her purchase. When the modiste had presented the seductive nightgown, she’d been scandalized, but, as Lizzy had said with a secretive smile, Max was her husband and the shyness would fade away as they became comfortable with one other.
However, Max never once darkened the door to her suite of rooms. She had no idea where he’d slept, or how he’d filled his time and she’d finally crawled into the cold bed alone. The next morning, with no maid to assist, as everyone assumed her husband would be a willing lady’s maid, she’d struggled with her gown. Thank goodness the serving maid, who’d brought up her breakfast, stayed and helped fasten the many buttons down the back of her gown.
Now, with the sun high in the sky, they approached Adborough Hall. Expecting to see the full compliment of staff, domestic and otherwise lining the stairs to greet them, Georgiana was surprised to see no one. Not even the butler and housekeeper. Surely Max would be furious at this blatant sign of disrespect.
The carriage trundled to a stop and a footman leaped off the carriage, opened the door and lowered the small step. He offered his hand and helped her step down. In the meantime, Max had swung of Pericles and handed the horse off to a waiting groom. Without so much as a look backward, he strode up the stairs and the door opened prior to him reaching the last step.
“Welcome back to Adborough Hall, Your Grace.”
What Georgiana assumed was the butler gave Max a respectful half bow. Immediately, after Max entered the house, two footmen exited and began off-loading their trunks. Not knowing exactly what she was supposed to do, she lifted her skirts and ascended the stairs. As she made her way through the doorway, the butler said, “Good day, Your Grace.”
It took every ounce of self-control to not burst into tears at that small concession of her presence. Her husband continued through the grand foyer and headed for the stairs. Confused by his bizarre behavior she called out, “Maxwell—”
Slowly he turned and glared.
“You will address me as Your Grace.”
Her breath caught at his venom laced words. Desperate to know why he was so angry, she swallowed and tried again.
“Your Grace. May I be so bold as to inquire why—”
“No. You have been bold enough to last a lifetime. We are done here, Madam.” He turned and ascended the grand staircase, turning to his left at the top.
Georgiana watched his retreating back and suffered the quiet stares of the butler and housekeeper.
“This way, your Grace.”
The housekeeper began to walk toward the same staircase Max had disappeared from.
“To where?”
“Your rooms. I’m sure you’d like to change out of your traveling clothes and freshen up.”
The furthest thing from her mind at this moment was changing her clothes. Why was Max behaving in so vile a manner? Her mind came up blank. When he discovered her in Slade’s room, he’d been so solicitous and their three-week courtship had been the most wonderful time of her life. Although he’d never said the word, she’d been assured she was loved.
As she followed the housekeeper up the stairs, she remembered she had no lady’s maid. She also didn’t even know the housekeeper’s name. They reached the second floor and turned left and stopped in front of a pale-yellow door. The housekeeper removed a key from her chatelain and unlocked the door. It opened to a lovely room with wide bright windows overlooking the back gardens.
“Thank you, Mrs…, I am sorry, I do not know your name.”
“Mrs. Howell, your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Howell.”
She glanced about the room, noting how elegantly it was furnished. She longed to know which of the doors led to the master’s chamber but was embarrassed to ask. Mrs. Howell cleared her throat and Georgiana brought her attention back to the most immediate concern she had.
“I am in need of a lady’s maid, Mrs. Howell.
“You had no lady’s maid travel with you?” Mrs. Howell sputtered, quickly masking her dismay behind an implacable façade of calmness. “I shall have someone attend you immediately.”
“That would be much appreciated.” Georgiana paused, unsure how to ask the next question. “Will Max… I mean, will his Grace be dining any time soon?”
“His Grace has asked for his meal to be sent to his rooms.”
Georgiana longed to ask more but Mrs. Howell’s manner left her in no doubt she would not be forthcoming with any information about her master.
“If that will be all, your Grace, I shall be about my business. The bell pull is by the window curtain. Please ring if you require anything else.”
Mrs. Howell gathered her skirts close and swished out into the hall. Georgiana wandered over to the window and gazed out over the rolling landscape. Under any other circumstance her heart would have sung with joy over starting her new life among such beauty, but as it stood, she felt adrift, like an abandoned child’s toy boat left to float upon a lake.
Tears flowed, unchecked, obscuring the verdant, pastoral scene. Dimly she heard the hall clock strike the hour. A sob tore from her throat. Truly she was alone. Horribly alone with nowhere to turn.
A tentative knock on the door had her scramble to gain control of her rising hysteria. She dashed her tears away with the back of her hand. It would not do for Max to find her sobbing.
“Enter,” she managed to call out.
A young girl, in the uniform of an upstairs maid entered and gave her a quick curtsy.
“I’m Molly, your Grace. I’ve come to put away your cloth
es.”
“I’m not sure where my trunks are.” Her brow creased in confusion. “Has Mrs. Howell assigned a lady’s maid, Molly?”
The girl stood, twisting her fingers together. “I’m not sure who that will be, Your Grace. I was told to come and unpack your trunks.” She indicated with her hand the small door near the window. “The footmen brought them to your dressing room.”
She bobbed a curtsy and hurried to the door, Georgiana following behind. Molly opened the door, revealing her traveling trunk situated in the middle of a good-sized room.
“Molly, do you know where the Duke is?”
“No, your Grace. Mrs. Howell said to tell you a light repast will be waiting for you in the family dining room.”
“And where is that?”
“I’ll take you. You might get lost if I try and give you directions.”
“I’ll need some assistance. I cannot reach the buttons in the back of my gown. Are you willing to lend me a hand until a lady’s maid arrives?”
“Oh yes, your Grace. I’ll have some hot water brought up immediately.”
As Georgiana gave herself a quick, but thorough wash, she worried about Max’s change in personality. Everything had been wonderful until the wedding breakfast, and then it was as if someone snuffed out a candle and all light left his body and mind.
Other than the few minutes he’d taken for personal needs before leaving Matlock House, they’d almost been tethered to each other. What happened during that time? Had someone spoken against her? She mentally shook her head. Impossible. Everyone at the wedding breakfast held nothing but good wishes for the both of them. If not that, then what?
Molly came out of the dressing room, a light muslin gown over her arm.
“This one’s not too wrinkled, your Grace. I can help you dress and then take you to the dining room.”
“Yes, that gown will suffice for this evening. If Mrs. Howell is unable to locate a lady’s maid before the morrow, I will require you to press my remaining dresses.”
Not for the first time that day she missed her own lady’s maid. Anna was not expected to arrive for another fortnight. If she wrote Fitz directly, maybe he would send Anna to Adborough Hall immediately. Right after her meal she’d prepare a letter to post first thing in the morning.
In no time Georgiana presented herself to the dining room and stopped cold in the doorframe. Max, seated at the table, put down his cup of tea and stood.
“I was told you were having your meal in your room.”
“I changed my mind.”
He sat and signaled the two footmen, standing in silent tribute against the wall, to begin serving them. She took her seat and for her food. The meal, though not grand, was artfully arranged and tasted as good as it looked, and she hated every single minute. For over half and hour, she endured the scraping of their flatware on expensive dishes in solitary silence. Finally, before the dessert dishes were removed, she summoned the courage to speak.
“Adborough Hall is lovely, at least, what I’ve seen so far.”
“I cannot do this.” Max pushed back his chair and stood. “I refuse to pretend all is well and feign ignorance. I leave for London tomorrow morning.”
“So soon!” She also pushed back her chair and stood. “Am I to stay here, alone?”
“Yes. I shall leave instructions with Chapman and Mrs. Howell.”
He threw his napkin onto his plate and strode from the room. A little dazed over what had just occurred, Georgiana fell back into her chair. What in the world would Max feign ignorance of? She went over all the details from the past few days again and came up blank. She could think of nothing to explain his anger.
With nothing to keep her in the dining room, she exited and began wandering down the hall in search of the grand staircase. Turning a corner, she caught sight of Max near the front entrance speaking with the butler and Mrs. Howell.
“Your Grace,” she called out.
Max stopped talking, but did not turn around. She picked up her skirts and hurried toward them, determined to make him speak to her. If nothing else, to have him explain why she was being treated as though she had some dread disease. With dismay, she watched Max hand Mrs. Howell a letter and leave without once acknowledging she had called out to him. Although they maintained a stoic demeanor, Georgiana knew the two head servants were dismayed by their master’s behavior.
“Maxwell!” she cried out once more, but the heavy door closed with a resounding thud and she halted in her tracks. No one need tell her that Max was not waiting for morning light to leave Adborough Hall. She’d seen a groomsman, with Pericles, waiting on the graveled drive.
The butler, whom Georgiana learned from Molly was called Mr. Chapman, exchanged a telling glance with Mrs. Howell. He spoke quietly to her and giving Georgiana a polite half bow, exited through one of the many doors lining the grand hall.
Mrs. Howell approached and handed her the envelope Max had given her. The envelope was sealed and addressed to: Her Grace, Duchess of Adborough. Silently, Mrs. Howell moved down the hall and Georgiana was, once again, left to her own devices.
With trembling fingers, Georgiana opened the envelope and began to read.
Madam,
Your seclusion at Adborough Hall can come as no surprise. I have given instruction that you are not to leave the grounds of Adborough alone. You may attend the nearby village of Dorset for purchase of personal needs as well as attend church with no less than your maid and two footmen, and if accompanied by my trusted steward, Mr. Mason, you may visit my tenants.
Upon my return I will determine how we proceed.
Yours, etc.,
Adborough
The letter fluttered out of her fingers. Her whole body grew numb and began to shake. What had she done? What did he mean her seclusion came at no surprise? She sank to the floor, her skirts puddling around her legs in a mass of wrinkles.
~~~~~
Pericles thundered down the graveled drive, matching the dull fury that flowed through Max. How blind he’d been. If he hadn’t overheard a conversation between Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, he’d have blindly entered into his marriage bed and been none the wiser. After attending to some personal needs, he’d stopped to adjust a buckle outside the library door at Matlock House and heard the words that broke his heart in two.
“Surely you’re happy for Georgie.”
“I am. Adborough is an admirable man. My only regret is that this marriage was such a rushed affair.”
“Must needs, Richard. We had no guarantee rumors would not spread and I couldn’t make this one go away.”
“Aye, not like Ramsgate. For some reason he never spoke a word of it to anyone.”
“I suppose, in his own way, he cared for her. That may have been the only time he showed discretion in anything.”
Max remembered how everything around him faded until all he was aware of was his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. Nothing else existed. What had Darcy meant by; I couldn’t make this one go away?
At the time he’d entered the first room he came upon and sat in a dazed stupor. By all accounts, his bride had been compromised before and her family had no intention of telling him. Maybe that had been the plan all along. If he’d found out prior to their nuptials, he could have bowed out gracefully, or extended their courtship until he found out more information. By keeping him in the dark, they assured themselves of Georgiana being safely married and he had no recourse but to stay the course. Divorce was out of the question.
Some of his tension must have transferred itself to Pericles because he broke stride and stomped down with his front hoof. It took a few minutes, but Max soothed the beast, who tossed his head with disdain.
“Easy boy. Forgive my ill humor, we’ll stop at the next inn.”
Placated, the horse moved on at his urging and they continued down the road, his four outriders keeping pace. It didn’t take long before his thoughts went down a dark tunnel and the conversation between Darcy and Col
onel Fitzwilliam.
This was not her first compromise. What of her other folly? Could she have a borne a child from that illicit union? He refused to be cuckolded into accepting another man’s bastard. He cast his mind back in an attempt to ascertain when her first compromise occurred. There was a time, in her fifteenth year when she’d practically disappeared from company for a good part of the summer. A scant four years ago, but being very familiar with her family, this was the only time when she could have conceived and bore a child.
He thought of her halting speech and pretty blushes. So demure and proper and it had all been an act. Just like Lady Celeste. Thank the Lord he found out before he’d lain with her and been led on a merry chase. Women had ways to make men think they were innocent and untried. Besotted fool that he was, he’d have believed any lie she spewed about how lucky they were their child was so healthy even though born too early.
His only recourse was to return to London and reside there for the next few months, six at most, to ensure his wife was not carrying Slade’s child. The quickening may not take place for months, but one thing about a pregnancy – the belly grew whether the woman wanted it to or not.
At the end of his self-imposed exile he’d attend Adborough Hall and consummate the marriage. This was the only way he could ensure any issue from their joining was his. However, if the babe was a girl… if all this failed…
He refused to think that far ahead. His heart hurt too much and even now, with all this anger swirling around him like a mad winter storm, divorce was an option he could not and would not consider. Whether he liked it or not, the responsibility for the succession of the Duke of Adborough may fall upon the shoulders of his younger brother George.
Chapter Eleven