by Jenny Frame
Clementine smiled and shook her head. “One problem down. Now, do you definitely want to make beer?”
The moment was obviously gone. “Who wouldn’t want to make beer?” Evan joked.
“I’m sure you know that the beer factory was the start of my grandmother’s downfall.”
“Yes, if you read the essay I gave you, you’ll see that I went into that area in great depth. She trusted someone she shouldn’t have to run the plant, and he funnelled money from the business into his own bank account.”
There was a flash of anger on Clementine’s face. “My mother said she was warned but wouldn’t listen. She went way back with this particular character. He thought Isadora and the family had so much money that they wouldn’t miss it. When she did come to terms with the situation, it was too late. So it started a domino effect, starting with Thistleburn.”
There was that place again. “That is part of your title, isn’t it?”
Clementine nodded and took a sip of her wine. “Yes, Duchess of Rosebrook, Countess of Thistleburn, and Baroness Portford. We never owned much land in Portford, but Thistleburn in Scotland was special. There is a castle there that we inherited when Charles II granted the Fitzroys our titles and lands. It was very special. So much history, and the most beautiful little village and town surrounding it. The family used to holiday there in the summer. Isadora sold it to keep her dream afloat, but I still have duties towards it even though I don’t own the land. I’m chief of one of the last private standing armies in Britain. It’s ceremonial now, but in theory the men and woman of the town could be called up by me to protect Scotland and Britain.”
“That’s amazing! Do you get a sword and a spear?” Evan asked like a little excited seven-year-old.
“Yes, there’s a very nice sword, but it’s kept up in Thistleburn at the barracks there. I have to go there every year to take the salute and swear in any new members.”
“That is very cool.”
“Maybe,” Clementine said. “Again, I have responsibilities and no land to help the people of Thistleburn. Every time I go up there, they complain about the private owner and the rents they pay. They are good people, but I’m powerless.”
Interesting, thought Evan. “I won’t sell anything, you know.”
“Just keep your feet on the ground and learn the lessons of the past, Evan. If I can’t be in Rosebrook House, then I need you in there. If you sold it on—”
“You trust me, then?” Evan asked.
“Better the devil you know, they say.” Clementine smiled.
Evan gave her a mock glare. “Hey, that’s not a ringing endorsement.”
“Maybe…better the fox you know than the snake you don’t is perhaps more fitting. Just kidding. Yes, I trust you.”
“That means the world to me, Clem.” Evan couldn’t have been happier. What Clementine said made her nearly choke on her wine.
“Come with me up to my bedroom?” Clementine stood and held out her hand. She must have seen Evan’s look of shock because she added, “Don’t worry—I won’t sully your reputation. I want to show you something.”
“Really?” Evan took her hand and followed her up the tight staircase.
As she did, she couldn’t take her eyes off Clementine’s rounded bum, and her hand twitched with the urge to touch it. Those jeans are nicely tight. Without shifting her gaze, Evan said, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to sully my reputation, Your Highness, Ladyship, high and mighty Duchess-ship.”
Clementine just laughed loudly, which was a joy in itself because apart from chuckles and smiles, this was the first time she’d heard the usually tightly controlled Clementine give an unrestrained full belly laugh.
“Come on, Foxy Loxy,” Clementine said.
Good God, am I dreaming? She called me a sweet little name. Mrs. Fox is softening.
They got up to the top landing, and Clementine opened her bedroom door.
“Is it just two bedrooms you have up here?” Evan asked.
“Yes, my mother’s is across there. The last member of staff to live here was the gardener.”
And here she was, the duchess living where the gardener had. Evan admired Clementine. She had a position in the British aristocracy that many would envy, but not the means or the ancestral home to back it up, and rather than feel sorry for herself, she got on with leading a normal life, taking care of her mother and her own business, without relying on or using her title to curry favour with anyone. In fact, she didn’t like using her title at all.
What a woman.
They entered Clementine’s bedroom. It was small but tastefully decorated. There was a photo of her parents on her bedside and surprisingly a photo of Isadora and her wife on her dressing table. Clementine must have seen her looking because she said, “I did have two grandmothers, you know. Nanna Louisa may not have been related to me by blood, but she was all I knew, and I loved her very much. She was gentle, loving, kind, and a calming influence on Isadora. That’s why I keep that picture there.”
Evan nodded. “It’s nice to hear about people you study and write about from those who loved them.”
“Well, she was a good soul. Now, on to what I want to show you.” Clementine opened up her wardrobe.
“What is it?” Evan asked.
Clementine went right to the back and said, “Can you help me lift these? They’re heavy.”
Evan saw the hangers with protective covering that Clementine was trying unsuccessfully to lift off the rail. “Here, let me.”
Clementine stood back.
When Evan felt the weight of the items, she said, “Bloody hell! What have you got in here?”
“If you hang them on the wardrobe door, I’ll show you. Oh, could you lift those two boxes from the shelf up there too?”
“Sure thing, Your Ladyship, ma’am.” Evan pretended to tug her forelock.
Clementine laughed and gently pushed Evan. “Oh, shut up.”
* * *
Evan brought down the boxes and placed them on the bed. “These boxes look old.”
“They are, but let’s look at this first.” Clementine unzipped the covering on one hanger.
“Wow. Those are your posh robes?”
“Yes, the duchess’s official robes.” Then Clementine unzipped the other clothing bag and revealed another set of robes. “These are the duke’s.”
Evan was wide-eyed and held her hand out to touch the fur collar. “Sorry, can I touch?”
“Of course.” Clementine knew Evan would get a kick out of these robes. She joked, “Don’t give me trouble for the fur—these robes were made generations before I came along.”
“I know.” Evan smiled. She touched them reverently. “This is beautiful.”
“The duchess’s robes are more elaborate and have a train, and once the outfit is on, you can tell my rank, my place in the aristocracy, for what it’s worth.”
“Will you put it on?” Evan asked excitedly.
Clementine wasn’t expecting that question. Would she? She’d only worn the robes once since her father died. She hated the sight of them for what they represented, a noose around her neck, but maybe with Evan with her, she could shake off some bitterness of the past.
“If you want me to. Help me get them out, then—they are so heavy.”
Evan helped lift them out, and Clementine brushed off the fur with her hand.
“They’re like the Queen’s robes,” Evan said.
“Hmm…a bit worse for wear. They need a bit of a service. There’s a place in London that takes care of all the ceremonial robes. Isadora wore these at the Queen’s coronation.”
“What? Our Queen? Like Queen Elizabeth?” Evan asked with surprise.
Clementine chuckled. “Of course, is there another Queen?”
Then Clementine opened the front button. “If you can hold this open for me, I’ll slip it on. Kind of like an ornate dressing gown, isn’t it?”
Evan helped lift the heavy robes onto her shoulders
and snorted. “More like the Queen’s dressing gown. They’re big, aren’t they?”
“The first duchess was a much taller woman than me, and you have to imagine me in a big puffy white dress with gold embroidery. There’s some expensive jewellery that goes with this, a gold chain with diamonds and some earrings, but they are kept in a bank in London. Isadora didn’t sell them, thank the Lord.” Clementine fastened the button on the robes and said, “Now open the box.”
Evan did and gasped again. “You get a crown for being duchess?”
“A coronet. All the peers do, from duke all the way down to baron, but you can tell the hierarchy by subtle differences in our costumes. It’s like a military uniform. All those in the know are aware of it simply by looking. Hand me the coronet and I’ll tell you.”
Evan picked up the coronet and carefully brought it over to Clementine. She was so honoured that Clem was sharing this with her. It was a personal thing and showed that she was trusted.
Clementine took it from her and checked inside the fur lining before putting it on her head. “There’s a label inside to make sure you put it on the right way.”
Evan was taken aback at how regal, how beautiful she looked. “You look stunning, Clem.”
Clementine rolled her eyes. “Hardly, my hair is a mess and I’ve just finished a pizza. I couldn’t be further from a stunning duchess.”
“You are, every bit, and you won’t persuade me otherwise, so tell me what everything on the gown means.”
“First of all, the duchess’s robe is close fitting with short sleeves, but the cape across my shoulders, the train, and my coronet explain my rank. You see these rows of spots on my cape?”
“Uh-huh,” Evan said.
“That means I’m a duchess. A duke and a duchess have four rows of spots, a marquess has three and a half, an earl three, and so on down the ranks. The same with my train, the higher the rank you have, the longer the train. So I have a two-yard train and a five-inch edging. Finally, a duke’s or duchess’s coronet has a gold circlet and eight strawberry leaves. The lower ranks have a silver gilt circlet with fewer leaves, and some have balls instead of leaves.”
“Wow,” Evan said, “this is like stuff from an old period drama on TV.”
“It is from an archaic world.”
Evan shook her head. “It’s not archaic—it’s a tradition, and tradition is what this country is all about.”
“It’s dying, Evan. Do you know there are only twenty-four dukedoms left in the country? The dukes are dying out,” Clementine said.
“Why?”
“Because ninety-nine percent of them can only be passed down the male line. There’s a much smaller pool of people to inherit under that system, and if someone has no male heirs, it gets passed from cousin to cousin, dying a little bit each time, until one day there are no male heirs left. I’m unusual in that I have one of the only dukedoms that can be passed down the female line. It’s archaic and outdated. I mean, I can’t share my title with whoever I marry. The rules need to be changed or done away with altogether.”
Evan took a step towards Clementine and said, “If I married you, I’d be more of a duke.”
Clementine gave her a wry smile. “Oh, really?”
Evan joked, “But I’d settle for you being Mrs. Fox.”
Clementine shook her head and played along with her. “You’re too young for me.”
Evan folded her arms and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Am I? Eight years is nothing.”
“No, it’s not. I’d never keep up with you,” Clementine said. “You have plenty of young things to choose from, a young, vibrant, dapper dandy like you.”
Just as Evan was about to reply, Clementine changed the subject, saying, “Why don’t you try on the duke’s gown and coronet?”
“What? Me?”
“Yes, why not. You love elaborate clothes—it would be ultimate dress up,” Clementine said.
Evan turned to the other clothing bag and unzipped it. It would be amazing and exciting to see herself as the duke, but Evan looked back at Clementine and said, “Are you sure a commoner like me is allowed to wear them?”
Clementine laughed. “Well, I won’t call the police if you don’t. Don’t be silly, Evan. Put it on, you’ll love it.”
Evan was excited. “Yes, let’s do this.”
Clementine helped her get it out of the bag and over her shoulders, then tied the tassel at the front for her.
“You see, the duke’s robes are a lot looser and more comfortable,” Clementine said.
Evan eyed the box with the coronet in it.
“Let’s put it on you, then.” Clementine opened the box and lifted the coronet out. “The male coronet is much larger, but that will suit you.”
Evan took it from Clementine and placed it carefully on her head. “This is the most awesome thing ever.”
Once it was on and positioned correctly on her head, she turned to the mirror and gazed at her new outfit. Evan laughed. “I’m like a little kid at nursery school playing in the dress up box. I feel like I should have a sword.”
“You would.” Clementine laughed. “It suits you.”
Evan took Clementine’s hand and they gazed at each other in the mirrored wardrobe. “We make a nice couple.”
A nervous tension crept into the air. Evan felt her heart start to beat faster, and a deep hunger built inside. She was sure Clementine could feel it too. She wanted to kiss Clementine so badly. Maybe she would scare Clementine off, but she just had to let her know how much she wanted her.
Evan turned around and took her coronet off.
“Had enough of playing at being a duke?” Clementine said.
“Nope. It would be in the way for the moment.” With the coronet now back in its box, Evan took a few steps, until she was right up close to Clementine.
She could see Clementine’s breathing become shallower. She was right—Clementine did feel it too, but she also had some fear in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Clementine asked, never taking her eyes off Evan’s.
Evan lifted Clem’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Showing you what a stunning woman you are.”
She placed a few kisses up Clementine’s arm and felt her shiver.
“Evan?” Clementine said breathily. “Don’t, I—”
Evan cupped her cheek and stroked her thumb tenderly along Clementine’s cheekbone. “As soon as you opened the door to me, the first time we met, I wanted to do this.”
Evan leaned in and brushed Clementine’s lips lightly, then as she pulled back, kissed each cheek just as lightly, lingering slightly to inhale the scent of her perfume. The scent and the sound of Clementine’s heavier breathing made Evan’s head swim. She had never felt like this for anyone before. This was real.
When she did finally pull back, she found Clementine with her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Evan wanted to kiss her fully, kiss Clementine all over her body, but she didn’t want to rush things. Her dad had once said to her that when you found the right one for you, you shouldn’t rush to the finish line and miss the joy of falling in love. Besides, anything more at the moment might scare Clementine off.
After a few seconds, Clementine began to slowly open her eyes.
Evan caressed her cheek and backed off. “Don’t say anything. I’ll help you put these things away, and I’ll go. Thanks for tonight.”
* * *
Later that evening, after tidying up the kitchen, Clementine made her way up to bed. Since Evan left, she could hardly think of anything else but her. Why had she been so sweet and understanding with her mother today? Why was she so much fun to talk to and brimming with positivity?
Clementine slipped under the covers and pulled them up to her chin. “And why did she have to kiss me like that?”
The kiss was tender, and it was caring, just like Evan herself. When she first met Evan, she’d assumed by the way she dressed, by her constant flattery, that she was arrogant and self-obsessed, and had
a different date for every night of the week. How wrong she had been, and every moment spent with Evan was drawing them closer. She couldn’t let that happen.
She worked with Evan, and people would say she was just trying to get the house back, and maybe she was getting her feelings mixed up with a desire to be close to her ancestral home. Plus Evan was too young for her. And most importantly, Clementine couldn’t bear to have her heart hurt when it went wrong, and it would go wrong.
She’d had so much sadness and stress in her life that she couldn’t trust this feeling of excitement and positivity that Evan was drawing out of her.
Clementine sighed and picked up her book from the bedside cabinet and opened it. She stared at the page, the words not really making sense. Then she heard the beep of her phone. She picked it up and saw it was a text from Evan.
Here I am in this big stately home, in this big bed, and not a duchess in sight. Xx
Clementine couldn’t help the smile that erupted on her face, or the giddy feeling of excitement in her stomach. Collywobbles.
She typed out a quick reply. Don’t look for duchesses and you won’t be disappointed. Xx
The reply came back almost instantaneously. You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?
No, I’m trying to read my book.
The phone beeped again. Yeah, you’re thinking about me, but that’s okay because I’m thinking about you too. Sweet dreams, Clem. See you at work tomorrow.
“Bloody cheek of the woman. Thinks I’m lying here daydreaming about her?”
Clementine put off the light and shut her eyes. When she did, all she could feel were Evan’s soft lips on hers. She quickly put on the light again and sat up and reached for her book again, but the essay Evan had given her caught her eye. She had faced one fear today, wearing her robes, embracing who she was, with the help of Evan. Maybe it was time to look at Isadora from her point of view too? She opened to the first page.
Chapter Fifteen
In the days since Evan kissed her, Clementine had tried to keep her distance from her and never to be alone with her. She couldn’t trust herself, for one thing. She’d just stood there and let it happen, just stood there. The truth was that Clementine could hardly think of anything else since the kiss happened.