Cornwall needed to see Beatrice as soon as he got home.
He was out of the carriage before it had stopped and entered the house. His butler came across the foyer, shrugging into his coat.
“Your Grace,” he said woodenly, taking his cloak and cane.
“Edgars, where’s Lady Beatrice?”
“She’s in her room, Your Grace.” Edgars folded Cornwall’s cloak over his arm. “She retired to her bed as soon as she returned.”
“How long ago did she return?”
“About eight thirty, Your Grace.”
Why was Edgars so stiff with him? His butler had been in his father’s employ and was old-fashioned but he had always shown a fondness towards Cornwall, having watched him grow from a little boy. That was not there tonight.
Cornwall put it down to Edgars being tired and went upstairs. He would momentarily check on his wife and then retire himself.
There were no candles lit, but the fire was still burning brightly when Cornwall looked into his wife’s bedroom. Beatrice was in her bed asleep, her hair spread across the pillow. Cornwall had never known a woman could look so lovely sleeping.
He approached the bed and touched her hand. “Beatrice?”
Beatrice gasped and started awake. She stared up at him, her eyes widening when she realized who it was.
“Your Grace! What are you doing in here?”
“I came to see you. You left the ball almost as soon as we got there.” Then he saw the shadow pass over Beatrice’s face.
Her already pale face went even paler. Her jaw tightened and the expression in her eyes hardened. “I wasn’t feeling well. I had to head home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before we left?”
“Because I didn’t think it would hit me as hard as it did.” Beatrice practically spat at him. “I thought it would be best if I came home and tried to sleep.”
Cornwall wasn’t sure about that. She looked unwell, but she also looked angry. What was she angry about? “Are you feeling any better?”
“No.” Beatrice turned over, tugging the sheets up and showing him her back. “Leave me alone.”
“I can get Mrs Hodgkinson to fetch you something…”
“Just get out of here!”
Cornwall started back in shock. Beatrice had never spoken to him like that, not even when they were barely on speaking terms at the start of their marriage. She had never shrieked at him with such venom in her voice.
What had happened to her?
“Beatrice?”
“Now!”
Cornwall knew he wasn’t going to get an answer out of her now. She was too distraught. He would try again in the morning. But as he reached the door, he could hear gentle sobbing. That had Cornwall turning back in surprise. Beatrice was crying? And she wouldn’t allow comfort?
What had happened? Cornwall was confused.
But he knew he wouldn’t be able to get an answer out of his wife now. Tomorrow would have to be the time to talk. Cornwall left and made his way to his side of the house.
Rollins was in his room, getting his washbowl ready. He bowed at his master stiffly. “Your Grace. How was the ball?”
“It was good.” Cornwall stripped off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. “I enjoyed myself.”
“I’m guessing Lady Farley was there.”
“Yes, she was.” Cornwall stopped. Wait, what? “How did you know that?”
“Well, when the duchess came home almost as soon as you two had gone out, I had a feeling it was because you were being… close with Lady Farley.”
Rollins sounded cold, very sharp. What had gotten into his household since he had been out? Cornwall took off his cravat and tossed it onto the bed on top of his jacket, pulling off his shirt. “We weren’t being close. We were catching up.”
“I don’t think the duchess saw it like that.”
“She shouldn’t need to care, anyway. This wasn’t a marriage of love.” Cornwall sat on the bed and began to tug his shoes off. “She doesn’t need to be jealous of anything.”
Rollins knelt before his master and helped him take off his shoes. Then he began to tug Cornwall’s socks off. “That’s as may be,” he said sharply, “but how would you feel if you saw her openly conversing with a man and it looked too close for comfort?”
“Nothing. I’m not in love with her.”
“But it wouldn’t look good on you to see your wife’s eye wandering.” Rollins looked up at him, and Cornwall was shocked to see the anger in his valet’s eyes. “How do you think she felt when she saw you and Lady Farley together? I doubt it was all smiles. She had to have been embarrassed by your conduct.”
Cornwall was shocked. Rollins had never spoken to him like this before. It seemed like everyone was on Beatrice’s side when all Cornwall was doing was catching up with a friend he hadn’t seen in a while. The fact Josephine was now married was neither here nor there.
He wasn’t about to be dressed down by his valet. He had had enough of people being short with him for something that was nothing to do with him and everything to do with his wife’s sensibilities.
“I’m going to undress myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Cornwall scowled at his valet. “Get out.”
Rollins didn’t say anything. He simply stood, bowed, and left abruptly. Cornwall picked up one of his shoes and threw it across the room. Could he not get anything right? He had wanted to enjoy himself at the ball, and now the evening was ruined because of Beatrice balking at something that would never happen.
She had no reason to be jealous. Cornwall wasn’t going to be unfaithful. It wasn’t in his nature. Josephine Farley was now a close friend.
He just had to get Beatrice to see that. Once she had calmed down.
Chapter 8
Uninvited Guests
“T hat’s looking much better,” Beatrice declared, stepping back and looking at the curtains. “They’re not looking as drab as before.”
“New curtains were certainly needed for this room.” Mrs Hodgkinson adjusted the curtain at the bottom and stood. She grinned at her mistress. “I never thought I would have a duchess helping me with this.”
“Well, I wasn’t born a duchess. I learnt to help the servants whenever I could.”
“Good for you.” Mrs Hodgkinson patted Beatrice’s arm as she went past towards the bed. “The duke did right by marrying you. You’re a good sort.”
Beatrice didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t feel like a good sort, not when Cornwall kept his obvious affections for someone else. Beatrice had known this wasn’t a love match but seeing her husband looking at another woman hadn’t sat well with her.
After that night a week ago, Beatrice kept out of his way. The duke kept asking for her to see him in his study, but Beatrice refused to go, finding something else to do. They didn’t have dinner in each other’s suites anymore, Beatrice preferring to stay in her own rooms. A whole week of barely seeing her husband, and she was feeling the pang.
She actually missed him. Beatrice was scared that her heart was starting to soften even more to the man who had not only taken her in but had been kind to her once they made their truce. It wouldn’t take much to fall for him.
But every time she looked at him, Beatrice saw him and Lady Farley together. It made her stomach tighten into knots, and Beatrice had to go the other way before she burst into tears. Both of them were married, and neither wanted a scandal. But the hint of it was too much for her.
She had already lost her brother and her former life. She didn’t want to lose her reputation and look a fool.
Thankfully, the servants seemed to have taken pity on her. Mrs Hodgkinson and Rollins, in particular, kept a close eye on her. Mrs Hodgkinson kept her distracted, and they had gone through most of the east side of the house doing tasks Mrs Hodgkinson hadn’t been able to finish due to her heavy workload. The housekeeper appreciated Beatrice’s help, and Beatrice felt like
she was contributing to her home. Rollins was also attentive, despite his loyalty to his master. He would regularly check on her and try to lift her spirits.
Beatrice appreciated the gesture, but it was difficult not to think about the duke. And every time she thought of him, Lady Farley drifted into view. And it sent Beatrice into a low mood again.
Her ears pricked up when she heard the loud knocking that said someone was at the door. Moments later, she could hear several voices downstairs.
“Are we expecting guests, Mrs Hodgkinson?”
“Not that I know of.” Mrs Hodgkinson straightened up and frowned. “The duke never said anything about guests and Edgars would have told me to get rooms ready.”
That was odd. Beatrice wondered who had come to visit the duke. It couldn’t be for her. Lady Exeter and her husband had gone off to their holiday home in Wales although she had promised to stop in and see Beatrice on the way back. That wouldn’t be for another three weeks.
Curious, and knowing she had to meet the guests, Beatrice made her way downstairs. She was halfway down the flight of stairs when she saw who was in the hallway talking to Edgars. The butler’s face looked like it had been set in stone. She couldn’t believe it.
“Lord and Lady Farley!”
What were they doing here? And from the amount of luggage that was coming in, they were planning on staying. Lord Farley turned to Beatrice, beamed, and hurried to her as Beatrice managed to force herself down the rest of the stairs.
“Your Grace.” Lord Farley bowed over her hand, giving her an apologetic look. “My apologies, Edgars was just explaining. We thought we were expected. The duke arranged with my wife for us to stay for a few weeks.”
Beatrice’s heart sank. They were staying? What was Cornwall thinking? She swallowed hard and tried to keep her composure.
“If the duke invited you, he never said anything to me,” she said coolly.
Lady Farley laughed.
It was a tinkly laugh that made Beatrice grimace.
“Oh, I twisted his arm a little at the ball the other night. Farley must have some time away from London and coming to Stanford Park would be perfect for him.”
Perfect for him or her? Beatrice bit her tongue on that. She wasn’t going to show her jealousy. Not for this woman, who was looking at her with a smug expression. Did she know what she was doing?
“Farley.” Cornwall was coming down the hall from his study. He was beaming at his guests, mostly at Lady Farley. He shook Farley’s hand and bowed to Lady Farley. “My lady.”
“Your Grace.” Lady Farley giggled and curtsied.
Farley glanced at Beatrice’s face and something in her expression had his smile fading. “Forgive me if we’re intruding, Cornwall. Lady Beatrice was telling me that she didn’t know about our arrival.”
“You two are never intruding.” Cornwall indicated the drawing room. “Go on through. I’ll get Edgars to fix you a drink. I’ll join you shortly.” He turned to his butler. “Edgars, get the footmen to take the luggage upstairs and have Mrs Hodgkinson fix up the guest rooms.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Edgars turned towards the door but not before he caught Beatrice’s eye. He didn’t show emotion much, but Beatrice could tell he wasn’t happy.
She had the same sentiment.
Cornwall moved towards the drawing room. Beatrice hopped off the bottom stair and hurried after him.
“Cornwall!” she hissed, grabbing his arm to halt him. “What is going on?”
“What does it look like? Lord and Lady Farley are staying for a while.”
Beatrice gritted her teeth. Why was he talking to her like a child? “But why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered fiercely. “I thought we were supposed to talk to each other, especially about guests.”
Cornwall stared at her, arching an eyebrow as his eyes darkened. “You didn’t talk to me the night of the ball, so I’m not talking to you about this now.” He sneered and shook her hand off. “Don’t be so silly. It’s not for long.”
“It’s your former fiancée!”
Cornwall’s expression looked like it was carved from stone. His jaw tightened and Beatrice instinctively shrank back. She had seen him cross before but never this angry. “I’m going to ignore that,” the duke said stiffly. “Be my wife and go and entertain them.”
Beatrice huffed. She wasn’t entertaining her husband’s former lover. “Your guests. You entertain them.”
She could hear Cornwall shouting after her as she went up the stairs, but Beatrice kept on going. She was not going to listen to the duke now. Not when she needed to get out of there before she burst into tears.
***
Cornwall watched Beatrice across the room, sitting by the piano and talking to Lord Farley. This was the first show of emotion that he had seen from her all day, other than looking like she was about to burst into tears. His wife had sat at dinner silently, focusing on her food and giving Farley and Josephine weak smiles as they tried to talk to her. Farley was making more of an effort than his wife, and now it looked like he had brought Beatrice out of her shell.
If fate had played itself right, Farley was a better match for Beatrice. They were both quiet but intelligent, kind, and gentle people. And Beatrice was clearly getting on with him much better than she ever did with him.
Cornwall felt his stomach knot up. He didn’t like seeing Beatrice conversing with another man. Even though it was the four of them, and his wife was purposefully avoiding Josephine.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Cornwall shook himself and looked at Josephine, who was sitting beside him on the couch. “What?”
“You’ve been glowering at my husband ever since he started talking to your wife.” Josephine giggled. “He’s not going to whisk her away anywhere.”
“I know.” Now he knew how Beatrice had felt when she saw him with Josephine. Cornwall sighed and sat back, rubbing at his eyes. “Forgive me, it’s been a long day.”
Josephine smirked and nudged his arm. “If I didn’t know any better, Cornwall, I’d say you were jealous of your convenient wife.”
Why did she emphasize convenient? Cornwall didn’t like that. “Of course not. She can take care of herself.”
“I’m glad. I was beginning to think your attention was wandering.”
Cornwall grunted and looked back at Beatrice. But his wife had disappeared. Farley was now playing the piano, oblivious to the world around him. Where had Beatrice gone?
Cornwall felt Josephine’s hand on his arm and he shifted, putting her hand in her lap before standing. “Will you excuse me, Lady Farley?”
Now he was beginning to realize what Beatrice had to have been seeing. Cornwall showing his old affection for Josephine Farley, and it was clear Josephine still had feelings for him. She was overly charming towards him, and it could be misconstrued. Now Beatrice, his wife, was feeling her position painfully.
Cornwall hurried into the foyer, but Beatrice was not there. Maybe she was in her rooms. He took the stairs two at a time and found Mrs Hodgkinson coming along the hall from the east side.
“Mrs Hodgkinson, where’s my wife?”
Mrs Hodgkinson looked up at him, and Cornwall was shocked to see the harsh look in her eyes. Margery Hodgkinson, a warm and inviting woman married to his head gardener, was cold.
“The duchess retreated to her bedchamber, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said stiffly. “She’s not very well and does not want to be disturbed.”
“She looked fine a moment ago. Is there something wrong?”
Mrs Hodgkinson screwed up her mouth and took a deep breath. She was warring with herself about something. “Do you want me to tell you the truth?”
“Of course. I expect the truth.”
“You might dismiss me after what I say.”
“Indulge me.”
Chapter 9
A Harsh Wake-Up Call
E ven as he said it, Cornwall was sure he wasn’t going to like it. Mrs Hodgkinson lo
oked as though she was about to burst. And she did.
“She is upset, Your Grace. Lady Beatrice has tried to be gracious and carry on, as is her duty, but it’s difficult when you witness your husband openly showing his favour for a married woman. Especially when the woman’s husband is in the room.”
“What?” Cornwall blinked. “I’m not…”
“I’ve seen you myself, Your Grace. You didn’t invite Lord Farley because you enjoy his company. You invited Lady Farley so you could be together, and nobody would raise an eyebrow. You may not be committing the ultimate sin but teetering on the line. And it’s enough for Lady Beatrice to get upset about it.”
Cornwall didn’t like being under attack. And he had been completely thrown off-balance by his housekeeper. “She knows this isn’t a love match,” he protested but Mrs Hodgkinson let out a growl that had Cornwall taking a step back.
“But she’s still your wife!” The housekeeper looked furious. “She is willing to put up with a loveless marriage from her husband, but she isn’t going to put up with her husband showing more attention to a woman he’s openly said he was once in love with. In my book, this is utterly disrespectful!”
There was a stunned silence from both of them, Cornwall from the shock that his normally calm housekeeper had verbally flown at him and Mrs Hodgkinson from realizing whom she had been speaking to.
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she curtsied hurriedly. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I’ve got to go to bed.”
Cornwall watched her practically run away from him. He was still reeling from her accusations. Was she right? Was Beatrice really upset about his attentions towards Josephine?
He needed to speak to Beatrice. They had stopped speaking, and that needed to change. Cornwall wanted to know what was going on with his wife.
He shouldn’t be the last person to know about anything with regard to the woman he had married.
***
Regency Romances for the Ages Page 120