by Fiona Miers
“Of course you are, you are the only one I’ve ever wanted.” The tone of sadness just about broke her heart.
“Then why can’t you see that your mother and your brother’s wife are totally disrespectful towards me?”
Oliver laughed and she stared at him. How could he find her pain amusing?
“Please answer me, Oliver.”
“What can I say Sarah? Nothing I am telling you is making you feel better. Tell me what you want me to say?”
“Tell me why they don’t like me.” Sarah all but begged. She needed an answer to her question, but she was also desperate to reach Oliver on a level that wasn’t just physical.
Oliver sighed, the sound long and tired.
“Because my mother was raised to believe only people who were born with titles have any value, and my sister-in-law not only feels the same way, but she’s also jealous that I chose you over her.”
“What? She wanted you to marry her?”
That was just ludicrous!
“It’s not that uncommon. She was raised to be the Duchess of Lincoln. She has been betrothed to my brother from birth.”
Sarah inhaled sharply, fear suffocating her. “Did you want to marry her?”
“Of course not. If I had, the wedding would have taken place the week we were out of mourning.” Oliver sounded angry that she had even asked.
“Oh, good,” Sarah exhaled, unable to keep her relief from showing.
“Not that she wouldn’t have been a perfect Duchess, but the idea of sharing a bed with her, in the same bed that my brother had... No.”
Sarah didn’t hear anything except that Oliver thought that his sister-in-law would be a better Duchess than her.
“So you believe it too!” She exploded, her heart hammering in her chest as every muscle in her body grew taut. “You don’t think I’m good enough to be your Duchess.”
Oliver sighed again and opened his mouth to answer her. Nothing came out.
Pain similar to a knife sliding between her ribs hit her. She cried out and fled, running all the way back to her bedroom. The room reserved for the Duchess of Lincoln she reminded herself bitterly, and cried until she could barely draw breath. Her maid rushed in after she had cried herself hoarse.
“You must stop, yer Grace, it is not good fer the baby.”
Her maid, Sophie, applied a cool cloth to her face and Sarah choked on a fresh wave of tears.
“How did you...” Sarah started to ask before realizing who washed her underclothes every day.
“Please don’t say anything to anyone, I haven’t told my husband yet,” Sarah begged her, her mother-in-law’s voice taunting her in the back of her head. ‘A Duchess does not ask, she commands.’
“Of course not, yer Grace. It is sometimes good to wait to make sure it is safe.”
Sarah pressed an anxious hand to her abdomen. She could not lose her baby. It was the one thing she had been able to do that her horrible sister-in-law hadn’t. Provide the dukedom with an heir.
“I think I need to sleep. Will you inform the cook and the Dowager Duchess that I won’t be able to come down for dinner?” Sarah lay back down and closed her eyes, wishing herself far away.
“Of course, yer Grace. Could I perhaps draw you a bath before you retire?” Sophie’s concern colored her voice.
Usually this would have soothed Sarah, knowing there was one person in her life that cared how she felt, but she was too miserable to care today.
“No thank you, I just need to lie down.” She was so emotionally exhausted that she fell straight into a dreamless sleep.
****
“Not even two months she’s been here and already she’s started thinking of herself as being too important to meet with us for dinner.”
Oliver heard his mother from his end of the table, and for the first time in his life wished that the enormous table was even longer.
“Did you hear her directing the housekeeper to change the menus that I had already ordered for the week?” Honoria asked the dowager, disgust obvious in her voice.
“Have you heard the way she speaks to the servants? She treats them as though they were her equal!” The dowager demanded back.
They both laughed.
“That is because they are.” His sister-in-law laughed again, and Oliver reached for the whisky decanter.
Dinner continued in this vein. Oliver drowned himself in a bottle of his best whisky and his closest relations spent the evening saying horrible things about his new wife. He was so cup shot by dessert he had to have a footman help him to bed, where he slept off his intoxication alone.
Eight
For the first time since they had married, Oliver didn’t join her in her bed that night. Sarah stayed awake most of the night listening, hoping to hear some movement in the room next door. She was completely alone now and it was her own fault. She had destroyed the one good thing they had together by speaking her fears aloud, and now her husband wouldn’t come to her bed. Around dawn Sarah fell asleep, only to reawaken when her maid came in to inform her that lunch would be served soon.
Sarah gasped and sat bolt upright. How could she have missed breakfast? She twisted and placed her feet on the floor, jumping out of bed obviously too quickly. She swooned and would have fainted dead away to the floor if her quick thinking maid hadn’t pushed her in the direction of the bed.
She landed with a thump on the soft mattress, black spots still swimming in her eyes. They slowly receded and she took long, deep breaths.
“There now, yer Grace. Do not you be getting up so quickly. The last thing you need is a fall.”
Sarah lay a hand to her spinning head and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. The dizziness she usually felt had been multiplied this morning, and she was feeling very sick in the stomach too.
“Thank you Sophie. I am feeling quite sick. Do you think I could have some toast and tea in my room?” Sarah winced at the tone she was using to talk to her servant. Her mother-in-law would be disgusted.
Well, her mother-in-law could go fall in the lake for all she cared. Sarah had a new priority, her baby. If her husband was annoyed with her then she wouldn’t fight him. The thought made Sarah’s stomach clench painfully, reminding her that she wasn’t being truthful.
She wasn’t willing to give up on her husband, but until her pregnancy was better established she would have to protect herself. That would mean not allowing her in-laws to cause her distress, and not upsetting herself over Oliver’s withdrawal from her.
Sophie brought in her tray of toast and tea, and Sarah sat up in her bed and nibbled on her very late breakfast. Drinking slowly and eating slower, she waited for her body to respond to the food. When she wasn’t rushing to the chamber pot to be sick she had another nap.
The next time she awoke, Sarah felt more relaxed than she had in a month. The weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders as she saw her life for what was important. She was pregnant. She had to get outside, get some fresh air, and avoid her mother-in-law and sister-in-law at all costs.
Dressing in one of her old walking dresses, Sarah slipped out the servant’s entrance with help from Sophie and the housekeeper, and made her way to the stables. Walking slowly and enjoying the gentle breeze, she didn’t see her husband until she almost walked into him.
“Oh, Oliver, I’m sorry,” Sarah stepped back from where her husband was talking to his horse. It looked like he had just got back from a ride. He was sweating and his hair was windswept and unkempt. He looked so delicious Sarah’s body heated and her nipples peaked beneath her dress.
“Sarah,” Oliver greeted her with a bow. “Are you all right? You look pale.”
Sarah smiled, happy that at least he still noticed what she looked like, even if it wasn’t very complimentary.
“I think I stayed indoors for too long, I decided to go for a walk around the lake.”
Sarah gathered her courage and managed to smile invitingly at her husband. “Would you care t
o join me?”
Oliver hesitated. “I would love to, but I really need to be getting back to the house for a bath. Perhaps tomorrow?”
Sarah nodded and glanced away, ignoring the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Oliver headed back to the house and Sarah continued on her journey. She meandered around the beautiful lake that was one of the many places Oliver had shown her in the first days they were here together. She blushed when she passed a secluded grassy patch where he had made love to her. Pressing a hand to her belly, she wondered when they had conceived this child. Perhaps it had been that day? Perhaps it had even been their wedding night? Either way, this child had been conceived in love and she would fight to keep it safe.
Sarah lost track of time, returning to the house when the sun was setting and the family was assembling for dinner.
“What time do you call this?” The Dowager boomed from the sitting room where they were taking pre-dinner drinks.
Sarah went to drop into an automatic curtsy but stopped herself. She was now of the same rank as her mother-in-law, she needn’t curtsy to anyone ever again. Straightening her spine she looked into the older woman’s cold, grey eyes.
“I lost track of time, I’m afraid.”
“Well, you’ll never be ready in time for dinner and you are not wearing that peasant dress in my dining room.”
Sarah smiled and inclined her head. It wasn’t her mother-in-law’s dining room.
Without a backwards glance at her husband who was standing next to his mother with his mouth hanging open, she walked up the grand staircase and along to her room. She saw one footman trying to suppress a smile as she walked past him and found herself giggling. What a relief it was to be able to ignore them now. Sarah was sorry she would not be eating with Oliver, but it had to be done. She would not subject herself to the stress of that dining room again.
***
Oliver could not believe what had happened. He had been waiting anxiously for his wife to arrive, fearing the explosion from his mother that was surely to come because of Sarah’s tardiness. Instead, Sarah had refused to curtsy to his mother, a first for her, of which Oliver was intensely proud, but then she had left him to have dinner alone. Well, not alone exactly, but without her, he may as well be.
“We will be returning to London on Friday, Oliver,” his mother announced, during the main course.
“Of course Mother, I understand.” He tried his best to look disappointed, but inside, he was relieved.
If they left, perhaps Sarah and he could go back to how they had been before his mother had arrived. He was desperate to return to her bed, but how could he, whilst things were still so strained between them?
“All of us,” his mother corrected.
“Pardon?” Oliver’s eyebrows rose as he sat up straighter in his chair.
“You will join Honoria and me for the remainder of the Season.” The Dowager’s tone brooked no argument.
“I’m not sure if Sarah wants to return for the Season, mother.”
Actually, he knew Sarah didn’t want to return for the Season. She loved being out of London, and wouldn’t like having to share a house with his mother and sister-in-law in town.
“I do not care what that woman wants. You will return with us and do your duty to your family. Your father would be horrified to think that you let Honoria and me go to London without you. Who will be there to look after us?”
Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t care who looked after them, but he knew she was right. It was his duty, his obligation to make sure his mother and Honoria were safe and happy. He could not do that from here.
“I will discuss it with my wife.”
“You will do your duty for the first time in your life.” His mother fairly yelled.
Oliver cringed and reached for the whisky.
***
That night Oliver paced in his bedchamber for what seemed like half the night, but it had probably been less than an hour. Should he go in to his wife? Could he go in to his wife? After their horrible talk two days before, when he’d all but told her that she wasn’t good enough to be his wife, he hadn’t felt free to touch her, let alone make love to her. Since his mother had arrived, the only moments of happiness they’d had were in Sarah’s bed and now he felt barred from that too.
Oliver sat down on his bed with a thump and called himself ten types of coward. He hadn’t even told Sarah that he would have to go back to London with his mother. After being degraded for an entire evening, not an unusual event, he had acquiesced and agreed to go with them.
Climbing into his huge, cold and lonely bed, Oliver felt the urge to weep. Completely defeated on every front, he was a failure to the title of Duke and all the responsibilities that came with it. He was a failure to his wife. She was miserable and alone. And most of all, he was a failure as a man, who could not even bring himself to apologize and seek comfort in his wife’s body, as he knew she would offer.
That was probably the worst part. He knew she would never deny him, but did she still want him? After everything he had done and said, could she really care for him the same way she had before? Did she still love him as she had? Because although the words had never been said, Oliver had seen them, written ten feet high in her eyes when she’d looked at him. And God it hurt to know it may be gone.
***
What Oliver didn’t realize was that on the other side of that adjoining door, his Duchess was also awake and miserable. After all that had come between them, she was still in love with her husband. So much so that his rejection almost broke her heart in two. Laying her hands on her belly, she promised her baby that she would love him forever, no matter what happened.
The next morning, after a horrible night’s sleep, Sarah awoke to her maid beside her bed with a tray of tea, buttered toast and a note from Oliver.
Terrified of what this note would say she sipped her tea without opening it, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Once she was satisfied that she would not be vomiting, Sarah picked up the expensive paper and unfolded it, her breath hitching in her throat.
My dear.
Once you have awoken would you please meet me in my study,
I have something to discuss with you.
Oliver
Sarah’s heart sank so low she wasn’t sure it was still inside her body. Pressing a hand to her baby, she took a deep steadying breath. Whatever he had to say, she would endure it. Perhaps he had decided to take her away from here? Perhaps he wanted to discuss sharing her bed again? Although Sarah tried to be as positive as possible, optimism coming generally naturally to her, she could not stop this rather odd feeling that something bad was afoot.
Sarah dressed in another of her old walking dresses, feeling comfortable and like herself. She made her way to the Duke’s study. Again she noticed the kind eyes and smiles of the footmen, and wondered why they always made eye contact with her but would never look at her mother-in-law the same way. Smiling her thanks to the butler as he opened the door to her husband’s study, she realized it was probably because she came from a lower class. They were not intimidated by her as they were the Dowager.
“Good morning my dear,” Oliver’s voice sounded quite hoarse.
“Good morning, Oliver, did you sleep well?” Sarah asked, biting her tongue and chastising herself for being spiteful.
Oliver’s eyebrows rose but he didn’t comment on her odd tone.
“I did, thank you. And you?”
“Not particularly.” She answered honestly, giving him such a direct look that he looked down at his ledgers.
“Sarah, you’re not happy at the moment and I’m not sure what I can do to change that. On Friday I will be escorting my mother and Honoria back to London for the rest of the Season.”
A cold calm descended on Sarah and she blinked slowly.
“Do you wish to stay here or would you prefer to come with me to London?”
Sarah heard the softly pitched words and real te
rror struck at her heart. How could Oliver so easily abandon her, yet how could she go with him? She knew that his town house was half the size of his estate and she would never be able to escape the two other women there.
Gathering her courage, Sarah informed him of her decision. She had spent the time whilst she dressed quizzing her maid on the other property the Duchy owned, there were quite a few other options than just London and here.
“Neither. I would like to go to Scotland if I may.”
“To the old castle?” He asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Yes, do you think there would be enough servants if I took my maids with me?” Sarah forced herself to keep her eyes locked with Oliver’s, but inside she was screaming. How could he choose to return to London when she needed him with her?
“I’m sure there would be.” Oliver answered slowly, frowning in thought.
“I will send a letter ahead of you but I doubt they’ll need to do more than prepare your room. All of the properties owned by the Duchy are well staffed and ready at a moment’s notice.”
Sarah just nodded and bowed her head, defeated. Oliver was more than happy to pack her off to a distant castle. Why was she even surprised? All of her original fears about their marriage were coming true. Oliver would not miss her presence for a moment, and yet she felt her heart breaking as though it were being slowly pulled apart at the seams. Two tears slid down her cheeks before she could stop them and she tried to wipe them away, subtly.
“I’m sorry you have been so miserable, Sarah.”
“Oh Oliver...” Sarah opened her mouth, ready to tell him how much she would miss him, how much she loved him, how much she wanted her baby to bridge the chasm between them.
She was stopped by the look in his eyes. Sarah saw nothing but regret and loathing. Whether it was directed at himself or her she didn’t know, but she knew this wasn’t the time for such declarations. Especially while she was feeling so fragile.
If she declared her love only to be rebuffed, she didn’t think her heart could bear it. She would have to wait until her armour was a little stronger. Standing up with as much grace as she could gather, she said the last words she would say to her husband for months.