He appeared to recall what he was meant to say when this particular conversation arose, and then he smiled broadly. “It was during one of my travels to France that I came across a wonderful garden that had set up their birdbaths in such a way. I found it intree…intreeg…intriguing!” His grin widened. “I found it intriguing and decided to have it commissioned for my gardens on the day of my return.”
Marianne’s mother walked up behind them. “Your Grace, you have amazed us this day,” she said with an approving smile. “Your mannerisms, your speech, both are a vast improvement. You will be readily accepted by your peers, and I look forward to the remainder of our time with you.”
“As do I,” he replied.
Marianne did not miss how he gazed at her as she said this, and she knew she had to be blushing profusely. She hoped they would continue their stroll, for being in his company was becoming more and more pleasant each time they were together. However, when she glanced over at her mother and saw the knowing look on the woman’s face, she pulled her hand away.
“Yes, I believe you are showing marvelous improvement,” she said as a way of punctuating her mother’s words and taking the woman’s scrutiny from that gaze. However, the one thing she could not do was remove it from her own mind.
***
Later that evening, Marianne sat in her room and reflected on the day’s lessons. She found herself pleased for the progress William had made thus far, and he seemed a child whenever he received praise for completing a task properly. For a moment, she pictured him picking her up in his strong arms and placing a single kiss on her lips. Such an act of kissing a man in such a way was unladylike, to be sure, but William was not one for rules, and he would not look down on her for agreeing to such a kiss.
Marianne’s heart leapt to her throat when the door opened and her mother entered the room. The woman walked over and sat beside her on the bed beside her. She had been unusually quiet throughout the afternoon, and Marianne worried her mother was angry with her.
“Mother, if I did anything wrong…” she started to say, but her mother smiled and patted her hand.
“No. You have done nothing to upset me,” she said. “But I feel it is my responsibility as your mother to speak to you concerning His Grace.”
“William?” Marianne asked before she could stop herself. “I mean, His Grace?”
Her mother let out a deep sigh. “Indeed. I can see that it is worse than I first thought. I have heard you refer to him by his Christian name on more than one occasion, and although it has discomforted me, I have said nothing.” She took Marianne’s hand in hers. “My darling girl, it is normal for a young lady to become enamored with a man, especially one who is so well-titled. A Duke can add enough honey to sweeten the pot for any woman such as yourself.”
Marianne laughed. “He is a nice man, but you have no reason to fear.” Her mother raised a single eyebrow but said nothing. “I would lie if I said he is not handsome, but my concern for him lies in what we are teaching him and nothing more.”
“His gaze is turned to you more often than is appropriate. I worry it will distract you from the very reason we are here.”
“No,” Marianne stated firmly, “it will not. Even if it were true that he has turned his eye my way, would it be so horrible that a Duke would wish to court me?”
“If it were true, I would be ecstatic,” her mother said. “However, once he has been introduced into society, he will find a woman more appropriate to his station—a woman whose father has wealth and title. That is the way it has always been and will continue to be.” Her mother leaned over and kissed Marianne’s forehead. “Goodnight, my dear. And please think on what I have said. I do not wish you to lose your heart to a man who will find another and leave you with that heart shattered at his feet.”
“Do not worry,” Marianne assured her. “I will guard my heart.” However, she found a twinge of jealousy for whoever turned William’s head.
“Good. Now, I will see you in the morning.” Then her mother was gone.
Marianne lay back on the pillows and considered her mother’s words. Why did Marianne care who William courted? She was here to complete a single task and nothing more. However, as much as she tried to deny it, she has found she was growing fond of the man and looked forward to seeing him each morning. Deep down, she suspected that more than fondness existed, at least in how she felt about him.
She had never been in love before, but like most girls of her age, she did dream of finding the perfect man who would take care of her and adore her above all else. William fulfilled part of that role—his ability to care for the woman he would marry—with his title and wealth, but, more importantly, he had a way of talking with her that was so different from other men who had called on her. He asked her questions about what she enjoyed reading. Or he asked her opinion on the clothing he wore. It seemed the man appreciated her wisdom, and like the night in the library, she felt she could speak to him forever.
Then a sadness washed over her as she considered her mother’s words this night. The finest women, many more beautiful than she, would be fighting for his attention. In the end, would he choose a woman such as she? The daughter of a merchant? A woman of the Gentry and not of the aristocracy? The woman who had instructed him so her father could grow his business and hopefully allow her to be a part of that world?
Or would he choose a woman of beauty and wealth, one who came from a better family, one who would add to what he already had rather than take from him what her family lacked?
She sighed and extinguished the candle on the side table. Now was not the time to worry about such things, for he had not shown her any sign of wanting more than her guidance thus far.
Pushing aside the thoughts, she turned onto her side and tried to fall asleep, but it was several hours before sleep finally found her.
Chapter Eight
Two days later, Marianne’s mother was not feeling well and retired to bed early. Marianne, having completed the book she had previously borrowed, decided to return to the library to exchange it for another.
At the bottom of the grand stairs, a cool draft wafted past her, and she followed it to a back door that had been left partially open. She went to close it but then paused. William stood ten paces away, the light from the moon highlighting him. Although she could not see his face, she could feel that something was wrong.
Slipping through the door, she closed it behind her and walked up behind him. He turned and she was greeted with a smile.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” he said. “Can’t you…I mean, can you not sleep?”
“I went to choose another book and saw the door open. You came very close to being locked outside.”
He shrugged. “It would not be the first time I was locked out of a house,” he said. His words, although sounding as if they should have caused him anguish, did not seem to bother him. His matter-of-fact tone had her wondering about his previous life; however, she chose to let the words go. If he wished to expand upon them, he would. Before she could change the subject, he spoke again. “Do you see all the stars in the sky?” he asked.
She followed his gaze. The stars appeared somewhat muted in the presence of such a moon, but she could see them nonetheless and wondered how she could have missed their beauty before. “I do,” she replied to his inquiry.
“Many nights I would stand leaning against a wall or sitting on the ground with a bottle of whatever spirits I could find and watch them. Now, I am here and I find myself looking up at them once again.”
Marianne attempted to decipher the emotion that lingered behind his words, but she was unsure if she heard sadness or something else. Whatever it was, his statement confused her. “That is good, is it not?” she asked. “Are you happy to see them?”
He said nothing for a few moments. Then he replied, “It is good to gaze upon them again. Yet, I find myself missing my friend Thomas. We would share an old bottle of drink and talk about our dreams.” H
e chuckled. “He wanted a simple cottage to live in, and I, well, I suppose I didn’t want to be alone. Now, I find myself with title and wealth, and yet I have no friends. That is the meaning of being alone.”
Marianne’s heart went out to the man. It was sadness she had heard behind what he said after all, and she placed a hand on his. Her mind went to her mother’s warning those few nights earlier, but she pushed them aside. They had no place in this conversation. It was not as if Marianne was attempting to make the man fall in love with her or something as silly as that. She simply had concern for another person. Granted, he was a handsome Duke, but that made little difference to her.
“I consider you a friend,” she said, “and I would be honored if I was yours, as well.”
He turned toward her. “Thank you,” he said and his body seemed to relax. He gave her hand a small squeeze and then let it go, and she found she had hoped he would continue to hold it. “So, tell me about your life, the life you will have once you return home.”
The question caught Marianne off-guard, and she was unsure as to how to respond. Her indecision must have been evident for he added, “I was too forward. You do not have to answer if you prefer not to share your private life with me.”
“No, it is a good question,” Marianne said. “My parents fear that I am approaching spinsterhood, for I have not yet found an appropriate suitor. The men I have met, though many are kind, are not any with whom I imagine spending my entire life. My best friend, Julia, she is the same as I, and we both are concerned we will be married off to someone we do not love, or even for whom we do not care.”
William tilted his head as he studied her. “What kind of man do you imagine spending your life with?” he asked.
Marianne let out a small laugh and his eyes widened. She placed a hand on his arm. “I laugh not at your words,” she said.
“Yes. Well, as I recall, it is the handsome words that make you smile.” His eyes held a mischievous glint that matched his smile.
Her cheeks burned but she gave a nod of agreement nonetheless. “That they are,” she replied with a smile. “As to your question, I wish for a man who is kind, who shows interest in what I do, and most importantly, loves me as I love him.” She paused for a moment. “And yourself? What are your expectations for the woman you one day are to call upon?”
He shrugged. “I suppose she should be a woman who can accept me for the man I am and where I came from.”
She smiled, wanting to tell him that she accepted him for who he was and that she had grown fond of him in their short time together. However, the words stuck to her tongue and before she could speak, he spoke again instead.
“So, your friend, Julia. What kind of mischief have you two been into?”
Marianne pushed her chin forward. “We are ladies and do not partake in mischief,” she said with feigned haughtiness. “Unlike you men.”
He pulled his head back and laughed, and Marianne tensed as she looked around them to see if his outburst had attracted any attention. Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Not only once, but twice, we have procured a bottle of brandy and drank the entire bottle between us.” Embarrassment rushed through her and her eyes widened. She had made a grave mistake in telling this man such a thing, and now he would no longer view her as the lady she was.
“Twice, you say?” he asked, a shake to his head. “And to think I allowed you in my home.” His tone was serious, and Marianne sensed he would throw her out this very night. How angry her mother would be when she was rousted from bed and dumped into a carriage to carry her back home in the middle of the night. “To tell me such a thing…”
Marianne held her breath. This was it, the moment he would ask her to leave. The man was a Duke, was he not?
“To tell me such a thing, I must admit, pleases me.”
“Pleases you?” Marianne asked with shock.
“Yes!” he said with great enthusiasm, his grin as wide as she had ever seen any child on his birthday. “Don’t you see? The clothes, my posture, the way I speak, I feel like an animal caught in a small box. I need freedom and the chance to break some rules. My question is this, Miss Blithe. Would you care to break some rules or engage in a bit of mischief with me?”
Marianne stared at him. Was he asking her to share a bottle of spirits with him? To be caught in such an act would guarantee her father marrying her off if nothing else did. “I-I do not know,” she said when she could move her tongue once more.
“You have shown me your ways over the last month,” he said with a broad grin. “Now, allow me to show you mine.”
Though every word of wisdom she had ever received in her life advised against doing something so rash, Marianne found herself nodding in agreement. What would her mother say? No, what would her father say?
***
The following afternoon, Marianne went to see her mother, who still had not recovered from her recent illness. She had suffered a slight fever during the night, although she refused to have the doctor called, and Marianne wanted to check on her progress.
However, it was not just to check on her mother’s wellbeing that brought her to that room. When she had seen William at breakfast this morning, he had told her that today would be the day they would engage in mischief. The thought of whatever he had planned for them terrified her—Marianne was a lady after all—but at the same time, it excited her to think they would do something that was terribly outside of social expectation. As long as it was not too far outside.
Regret filled her as she stood outside the door that led to her mother’s rooms. She would have to lie to her mother, something she did not enjoy doing, but if she was to go with William, she could not imagine her mother being pleased with her doing so. Well, the decision had been made, so now all she had left was to see to her mother and then she would be on her way.
She opened the door and then went to her mother’s side. The woman smiled, but her paleness shocked Marianne. However, the woman was sitting up, propped up by a mountain of pillows, with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.
“How are you, Mother?” Marianne asked.
“I am fine,” her mother assured her. “I suspect I will be back to myself by tomorrow. Will Mr. Ludlow be able to chaperone you with the Duke today?”
Marianne shook her head. “No, Mother. He has just left for the day, although I could ask a servant if you would like.”
“No, there is no need. Unless His Grace insists that you continue his instruction, both of you should rest for today, as well.”
Marianne took the teacup from her mother and placed it on the side table. The poor woman’s eyes were heavy, and Marianne helped her to adjust herself and brought the covers up to her chin. Her mother closed her eyes as soon as she was positioned again, and Marianne stared down at her.
Before she could leave, her mother spoke up. “I am proud of you, my dear. You have done splendid work here, and although your father will never fully understand, know that I do. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, Mother,” Marianne replied. “Please, rest all day. I will not bother you.” She gave her mother a half-smile and closed the door behind her. Once in the hallway, she leaned against the door and gave a heavy sigh. Her stomach felt as if she had swallowed a handful of stones, and she wondered for the hundredth time if leaving the house with William was in her best interest.
Well, of course it was not, but certainly if the Duke commanded her to leave, she must, was that not correct? But of course it was. Granted, her parents would be unhappy if they learned of it, but what was to say they would? Her mother was safely tucked into bed and her father was busy with his work and nowhere near the Village. It was not as if she planned to sneak kisses from the man. Furthermore, what she learned about his background could only be that much more informative to the lessons she and her mother were doing with him. Or so went the arguments with herself.
A door closing down the hall caught her attention, and she pushed herself from the do
or. The decision had been made and she would not back out now. Near the top of the stairs stood William, although he was wearing clothes much like those he was wearing the first time they had met. He waved her over and when she walked up to him, he thrust a wadded bundle of clothes toward her.
She took the bundle from him and she stared at him in disbelief. “But…these are men’s clothes.” Her eyes widened. “What do you want me to do with these?” she asked uncomfortably.
“Change into them, of course.”
Marianne stared at him once again. “I cannot do that!” she gasped. “If anyone were to see me, the rumors would last three lifetimes!”
He gave a sad nod and hung his head. “I understand,” he said.
Sighing with frustration, Marianne thought about the situation. All her life, she had lived up to all the social standards, and yet the idea of breaking those rules was more than a bit tempting. Furthermore, she had obviously offended the man by not accepting the clothes for whatever reason he wished her to wear them. There was no getting around that fact.
“You must promise me two things,” she said. His eyes lit up and he nodded emphatically. “First, you will never, under any circumstances, mention this to anyone.”
“You have my word,” he said with a wide smile.
“Second, you must understand what you are asking me to do, which I suspect is to leave this house.” He nodded, his grin never waning. “This breaks not only my promise to my mother but also the rules of society’s standards. If I am caught, the shame will be greater than you can ever imagine. Will you promise me an adventure for a day that is worthy of taking such chances?”
He stepped in closer to her, and Marianne felt her legs tremble. “Not only for the day, but for a lifetime,” he replied hoarsely.
“Very well, then. Where shall I meet you?”
“In the stables. The horses are being prepared as we speak. But don’t worry; I told the stableboy that I had an old friend coming by to go riding with me, so they won’t even know it’s you.”
Return of the Duke Page 8