Elizabeth could only stare in surprise as Gavin helped the elderly man back inside, still holding the basket. She finally managed to shake off her startlement and gingerly followed them inside. Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but surely not this. It looked as though Gavin knew the man, John, and his wife Erma, quite well.
She lingered somewhat uncomfortably in the background, staring in shock at Gavin more than she was helping. There was a relaxed expression of care and empathy on his face as he enquired after the elderly couple over the tea they had provided – tea which Elizabeth, when she took a sip, was tempted to spit out. Tea so weak and bitter spoke of poverty, of tea leaves thrice used. When Gavin had spent a short while with the couple and even fixed a broken step – Elizabeth lurking awkwardly in a corner the whole time – the poor couple and Gavin made their goodbyes.
Gavin then helped her back up onto the phaeton seat and waved goodbye to John and Erma as they rolled away.
“Someone of your position usually just sends a servant to fulfil their charity obligation to the poor,” Elizabeth finally said, looking at Gavin out of the corner of her eye.
“I wasn’t always a Duke, you know that very well, for I was still just the heir when you met me,” he said laughingly, turning to her with a light in his eyes. He seemed pleased to be able to share this part of his life with her. “Anyway, it means a lot for tenants to know what kind of man their Duke is.”
Elizabeth barely had time to digest this hitherto unknown side of Gavin’s personality, before they drew up in front of another poor cottage.
“What, another one?” Elizabeth exclaimed.
Secretly she had wondered if Gavin had set up the little scene in John and Erma’s house to impress her.
She could hardly believe that he actually visited all of his tenants personally – surely not? She did not know of any man of such high rank who did.
Even her father left dealing with the tenants to his estate manager.
“Is that acceptable to you?”
Gavin raised one eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow back at him.
“Of course.”
She wouldn’t miss seeing this for the world.
This time it was a younger couple and their twin toddlers, with dirty hands and red noses, that Gavin was bringing a basket to. And this time Elizabeth was resolved not to just linger in the background. She inquired after the family just as solicitously as Gavin, even though she didn’t have the years of familiarity which he obviously had with them.
The day continued from there, with Elizabeth observing Gavin, carefully assessing him as they visited another five houses. To her growing amazement, Gavin really did seem to do this often with his tenants! They knew much about him and he seemed well aware of the small landmarks of their lives; a marriage, a child moving to the city, a bad crop.
Although Elizabeth had certainly never considered herself arrogant or dismissive of others, no matter their status, she had to admit that she would never have thought to find herself performing such a chore. Nor had her parents done so, that she was aware of.
Nonetheless, she found herself enjoying the day more than she would have ever imagined. By the last house, she was comfortable, conversing with the mother about her new quilt and even obediently looking at the children’s latest mud pies. Once or twice she caught Gavin looking at her with an appraising expression - they awkwardly smiled at each other in those moments, then looked away.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
Gavin grinned when he asked her, as he helped her back into the phaeton after what she was informed was the last stop of the day. There was the slightest hint of uncertainty in his voice, which she smiled at before putting an end to his worry.
“It was certainly different, but I enjoyed it.” She looked sideways at him, carefully folding her hands in her lap, and endeavouring to make herself as presentable as possible without Gavin noticing. “I didn’t picture you as someone who would do such a thing.”
Gavin glanced at her with a half-smile.
“Pass the time with the tenants?” He shrugged casually. “London society is fun, but there’s only so much to say to the ton. My tenants understand real life – things I want to know about. Book learning has never really been for me; but neither has the latest society gossip. And as Duke, they are my responsibility. As my Duchess, you would share that responsibility…”
Elizabeth looked at him, his words echoing in her mind. Was this day a test? To see if she could accept this part of him, could join him in his responsibilities to his estates? She did not know, but if it was, she hoped that he was pleased with how she had responded.
“I agree that there is far more in life that is worthwhile than society gossip,” Elizabeth found herself saying. She meant it. The day had broadened her perspective on the world.
“Good.”
Gavin had looked surprised at her agreement, but now he smiled, and Elizabeth discovered that she could not, really, be annoyed that, in one day of his company, her icy defence had been so quickly melted, her uncertainties so easily soothed.
“I’ve always wanted to do something like that, but I never had the courage. My father does not have such a… close… relationship with his tenants.” She laughed lightly. “I always assumed that they would reject me as an outsider if I tried to speak with them. I know little of the way of life of people such as your tenants, yet today I found myself engrossed with their conversation. How did you earn their trust?”
Gavin turned to her.
“Courage, recklessness… and much time. Time heals all wounds, as the saying goes. Do you agree?”
Elizabeth quickly turned to stare at the trees passing by. The implication of his words was very, very obvious, and she did not know how to respond.
“Why, I – I don’t know.”
Gavin’s look had been entirely too significant, his tone too serious, under the veneer of teasing.
“Perhaps you will discover the answer soon.”
There was no doubt that Gavin’s company was enjoyable, no matter what they were doing, and she had seen a side of him that the London ton never saw. If their marriage did happen, and it seemed almost inevitable that it would, then there would be many days like this in her future.
It was a very pleasant thought.
Whilst Gavin might claim to still be somewhat irresponsible, and not as good at managing the estates as he should be, she was beginning to suspect that he was wrong about that – that he was already a far better man than most she had ever met.
*****
That night, Gavin slept better than he had for some time. He had watched Elizabeth during the day – she had not treated his tenants badly, as so many of the ton might have done, and they had accepted her being with him with some unexpressed curiosity, but no animosity or distrust. They had all seemed comfortable in her presence, and that pleased him – he did not want a Duchess who looked down upon the people who were his responsibility as Duke.
Her kindness had been obvious, and the day had untangled some fear from his heart – fear he had not even realised he held, until it melted away.
Chapter Seven
Over the next few weeks Gavin continued to call, and take her for drives, and Elizabeth continued to make a fuss over reluctantly accepting, even though she had never felt so happy in her life. Anne and David certainly noticed, and Elizabeth pretended not to see the knowing glances and smiles which passed between them, whenever they caught her singing or staring dreamily out the window.
She was surprised to find that she didn’t really mind their looks and smiles. In any other case, yoked to any other person in a suspect betrothal (at least, one she did not fully acknowledge) – she would be furious, upset, and humiliated. But with Gavin… well, the more she got to see of his character, the more impressed she was.
At their first few meetings after his return to London, he had appeared to be exactly the sa
me rakish, carefree man about town he had been three years ago. It had become more and more apparent, however, that now he talked less and listened more.
He was still a flirt, but now he seemed more entranced by her than by his own loquaciousness.
One evening, Elizabeth heard his familiar voice speaking to the butler after a knock had sounded on the front door, and she suddenly knew that she would not tease Gavin about his attentions from then on – she was ready to believe that it all might be real.
She merely smiled and murmured, “I’m glad you came,” when Jeffries led him into the parlour.
If Gavin noticed the change in her greeting, he didn’t comment upon it. He smiled and gave a flourishing bow.
“Are you prepared for a taste of true Italian opera, Lady Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth laughed and nodded, calling for a maid to accompany them – for being seen with him at the opera would be all too scandalous if there was not at least a token chaperone, betrothal notwithstanding. She rushed upstairs to change into a suitable gown, and was well pleased by the light of appreciation in his eyes when she came back down, after having informed Anne of where she was going.
She allowed him to escort her to the carriage which was waiting. Once they were settled, the rather overawed maid tucked into one corner of the carriage with them, there was a brief silence. Elizabeth stared down at the weave of the long, delicate white shawl which draped around her shoulders and lay folded in her lap. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt shy around Gavin… perhaps it was because she felt that she had finally forgiven him. Or perhaps it was just the presence of the maid. The silence extended and Elizabeth finally lifted her eyes from her lap, to find him looking at her.
The warmth in his gaze heated her through her entire body.
There were a few more seconds of silence, then Gavin made an amusing observation about the likely fashion choices of opera patrons, and the awkward stillness was broken. They were both in an especially light mood that night - Elizabeth felt finally free to respond to Gavin’s attentions, and he seemed to sense this as he was, in turn, at his most amusing.
From the moment that they had settled into the rich velvet seats in the private box which Gavin apparently owned, with the maid sitting in the shadows behind them, Gavin tempted Elizabeth to embarrass herself.
“Imagine what the performers could be saying about us, about all of the audience,” he leaned over and whispered as the curtain rose and the opening soloist began. “Few of us know Italian. He could be calling all of us names, for all we know.”
“Quiet,” Elizabeth muttered, trying to hold back a smile.
“But, you see, I do know a little Italian – so let me translate - that shrieking means ‘I don’t know what I’m saying and don’t care, but I am being paid to warble like a peacock’.” Gavin was teasing. Elizabeth couldn’t hold back a giggle, which made the people in the next box glare across at them. That only made her giggle all the more, and Gavin was emboldened to whisper ever more outrageous things. “Actually, an Italian told me the real secret behind the language,” he whispered with a straight face, looking straight ahead. “It’s actually all gibberish. They talk behind our backs in English, just like everyone else.” Elizabeth tried to hold back a laugh, which unfortunately resulted in a loud snort. She froze, completely mortified. Then she heard a “Shh!” from the next box again, and erupted into more giggles. This prompted a chorus of more shushing, including from Gavin, who sported a very merry look on his face.
Elizabeth supposed that the situation was what caused her to be in giggles for the rest of the opera - everything Gavin whispered seemed like the funniest thing she had ever heard. As the closing curtain drew shut, Elizabeth tried to apologise to those in the next box (indeed, they were giving her and Gavin rather haughty, annoyed looks), but she wasn’t able to keep a straight face.
“I suppose we’re confirmed troublemakers,” Gavin told Elizabeth cheerfully as they made their way down the stairs and towards the congested front entrance. Elizabeth just grinned – she couldn’t stop smiling. She hadn’t had that much fun in a long, long time; so long she had almost forgotten how to laugh. She longed for the evening to go on, so she happily accepted when Gavin asked nonchalantly, “Would you like to take a turn about in the cool night air, Lady Elizabeth?”
They walked along the well-lit London street, trailed by the maid, and, at a distance, their carriage, away from the Opera House which was still swarming with elegantly dressed patrons. The air was crisp and cool and Elizabeth felt perfectly at ease walking at Gavin’s side. As Gavin continued to make amusing remarks about the opera’s players, Elizabeth found that she couldn’t stop smiling.
Why doesn’t he ask me to marry him, formally?
For that matter, why don’t I ask him?
Elizabeth reached out and took his hand, twining her fingers with his. He looked at her, clearly startled – she simply smiled, and kept walking. Once they were back at the townhouse, she would shock him even more.
*****
Elizabeth awoke the next morning, blissfully happy.
The whole courtship had been like a dream – she could hardly believe that it had happened. During the whole of their ‘betrothal’, she had hardly treated it as such. Her previously failed hopes involving Gavin, as well as the absurd way in which he had ‘proposed’, had contributed to her incredulity towards the situation.
Even her awareness that she would be ruined if, in the end, they did not marry had not removed the sense of unreality.
Only now had it suddenly hit Elizabeth that she was truly betrothed.
And that she wanted it that way – so much so that, to make sure that Gavin understood how much her thinking had changed, she had asked him, when they had returned to the townhouse last night, if he would marry her – not if he wanted to, as she had asked before, but directly, outright, she had said ‘I want to marry you, Gavin – will you marry me?’. He had laughed, and swung her into his arms, saying yes, before kissing her.
At the opera, she had finally realised that her anger over being rejected by Gavin three years ago had dissipated; and that, in its place, all that was left was a comfortable familiarity, and something she now dared to call love. She had tested Gavin’s motives by keeping her old friend at arm’s length during the weeks since their betrothal, and he had proven his maturity and loyalty.
I’ve grown up too, Elizabeth thought sentimentally, winding a strand of blonde hair around her finger as she stared at the dust motes glinting in the light streaming through her bedroom window.
She thought back to the Elizabeth of three years ago – self-absorbed, a little vain. Gavin had seemed perfect, then, and her pride had been deeply impacted when he’d left her to the condescension of society and of the suitors whom she had rejected in favour of him.
Now she was someone who could be confident, whether Gavin was really courting her or not. Someone who could find as much satisfaction in visiting the poor with baskets as she used to find in showing off the latest Parisian gown to her peers.
With a small smile Elizabeth rolled over and rang for her maid to assist her with dressing.
By the time she joined Anne and David in the parlour, for it was late enough that breakfast was over, she was still smiling broadly, looking forward to the day ahead.
“Oh, Elizabeth, I’m so happy for you,” Anne gushed as she rose to hug her younger sister tightly. “David and I have been hoping for this.” The sisters broke apart and Elizabeth took a seat. “Tea, please, Jeffries,” Anne directed the butler, who was waiting nearby. As he bowed, she added, “And the chocolate cake from last night – this calls for a celebration. Oh, Elizabeth,” Anne continued fondly, turning, and holding her sister’s hands happily, “when is the wedding date?”
“As soon as possible,” Elizabeth said, unable to repress the huge grin on her face.
For the first time, her detached, cool façade was completely melted, leaving her feeling, and looking, the most happy
and content she had ever been in her life.
“I’m going to Gavin’s home this afternoon to discuss the details with his mother. I would like you to help with the planning as well, Anne. Oh - and… I received a letter today from our parents. They are ‘surprised to hear of my betrothal via a letter from our great aunt, but are glad of it nonetheless, and wish to be further informed of the details’. I think that translates as ‘Father is furious that Gavin did not ask him first, but will not gainsay me, for marrying a Duke will add to our prestige as a family’.”
Anne laughed, shaking her head.
“How wonderful it all is,” Anne responded with a relieved sigh, reaching over, and tucking a stray lock behind her sister’s ear. “I’m so thankful that you and Gavin have been reconciled, Elizabeth. You two were meant to be together, anyone can see that.”
“Thank you, Anne,” Elizabeth whispered, beginning to feel close to tears. Three years of stress was falling away, all at once.
There was a knock at the door, and Elizabeth got up, quickly dashing the tears from her eyes.
“It’s probably Gavin,” she said cheerfully, waving away the butler and opening the door herself. “Oh,” she said abruptly, the smile vanishing from her face.
Standing on the front steps was an unhappy looking, but very beautiful, young lady. She had sleek jet-black hair and large heavily lidded eyes.
“Good morning. I am looking for Lady Elizabeth; is she here?”
“I am she,” Elizabeth said slowly. She felt a curious sinking in her stomach, and a sense of foreboding filled her.
“May I come in?” the woman asked, blotting at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Of – of course,” Elizabeth murmured, letting the woman in, and directing her to a comfortable chair in the parlour.
Anne and David had left the room, no doubt expecting, as she had, that the caller would prove to be Gavin.
“May I ask what is troubling you?” Elizabeth asked eventually, after a long pause in which the beautiful stranger dabbed at her nose and sighed.
Her Determined Duke: Clean Regency Romance Page 6