“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.”
Marianne groaned. What had she agreed to?
***
William paced just outside the doors to the stables. The horses had been readied so he and Marianne could be off on their adventure. Although he looked forward to all he had planned for the day with great anticipation, he could not help but have a twinge of worry at the burden he had placed on the young woman. During his short time at Silver Birch Estates, he had come to understand the importance of decorum, and taking out an unmarried woman was skirting that decorum. At one point, he had considered canceling their outing; however, he knew all too well that his life would be changing greatly very soon, and this could be the last chance he would have to dabble in those things he had enjoyed all his life thus far.
There would be no more days spent fishing on his days off or sharing a drink with Thomas. His new life would consist of business meetings, parties, and sitting and speaking properly. It all sounded quite boring—well, except for the part where he would attend and give parties. Those had to be fun at least.
Today was his last day to be his old self, and it was his last chance to share that life with Marianne, for the poor woman seemed to never enjoy herself. Granted, she smiled and laughed, but what she lacked was a freeness that came with one of his station. Of course, the lower classes had their own problems—not having enough food and warmth being among the worst—but despite those hardships, they still found time to frolic and dance. They were not as tight-laced as the nobility, and decorum did not dictate to them how they would act, allowing for more freedom to be open. At least to one another, anyway. He did not feel he was being judgmental by thinking in such a way; it was just the truth of the matter.
Over the past month, William had taken a liking to Marianne. She had smiled at him when they first met, but he recognized the way she had looked down upon him. He was not judgmental, but a woman such as herself had only interacted with gentlemen, of which William certainly was not—not before, at any rate.
William rubbed his forehead. All this thinking about stations and decorum gave him a headache, thus the need to get away from this new life at least one last time. He knew he was changing, even if it was not by much. His posture was much better on a more consistent basis, and his speech had improved. He might not be a gentleman yet, but he was well on his way to becoming one. He did not even recognize himself in the mirror anymore and he wondered if anyone from his old life would know who he was.
What he hoped was that Marianne would look past the last of his ruggedness and see the gentleman he would become, for he certainly could not see it. However, if she could do that, it would make it easier for him to see it. Once he became a gentleman, he could court her. Now, however, he was not ready. For one, his lessons were not complete. Second, she was here as his tutor—in the company of her mother, of course—and it would not be appropriate for him to ask while she was here in that capacity.
He stopped his pacing when he saw Marianne come around the corner of the house. He let out a small laugh, for she wore the clothes he had given her. Trousers, a white shirt devoid of ruffles, leather work boots, and an old coat all topped off by a hat he found that had belonged to his grandfather, but clearly nothing he had worn in public.
“Marianne, you look…unlike yourself,” he said and then regretted it when he saw her cheeks turn pink. “I meant that in kindness.”
She wrung her hands as she glanced around. “The stablehands might see,” she whispered as she leaned in toward him. “Perhaps we should go?”
“I sent them away, but yes, we should go. Are you familiar with riding a horse?”
She snorted in a way that reflected the clothing she wore and stalked past him. She placed a foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle easier than he had ever expected from her. “You were saying?” she asked with a smug smile.
He laughed and mounted his own steed, a dark chestnut Arabian said to be a direct descendant of the Godolphin Barb, whatever that was, but apparently something of some importance. The animal stamped for a moment, but William was able to get him under control in no time. “Follow me,” he said, excitement rushing through his veins.
Once they were well down the road, Marianne said, “Where are we going?”
“There is a tavern I’ve heard the servants speak of. The village of Blackwater, have you heard of it?”
She scrunched her brow. “Yes, I would guess it will take less than an hour to ride there.” She glanced behind her for the fourth time since they had left, worry marring her beautiful features.
He pulled up on the reins and stopped on the road. Marianne came up beside him. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.
“Marianne,” he said as he placed a hand on the pommel of his saddle, “I promise you this day will not be in vain.”
She smiled and the worry in her face eased. “I trust you.”
An odd feeling went through him at her words, and he now saw the woman in a new light. He could not have named it if he would have been asked, but it was there nonetheless. However, hearing her say she trusted him gave him a surge of confidence that he had never felt before. “Well, I am glad,” he said in reply. “I believe you will find today a great enjoyment.”
She smiled. “Your vocabulary, it is improving every day.”
“Is it?”
“Indeed. I am impressed. You have made great strides over the last weeks. You should be very proud of yourself.”
William could do nothing but grin. He was proud of how much he had improved, but it was her encouragement that pushed and guided him. Her mother might have given him the majority of the instruction, but with Marianne there encouraging him, he would still be struggling with his posture from their first lesson.
Yes, the woman was proving to be an important part of the new William Hawkins, and he would prove to her that he could become the gentleman she needed. But first, it was important to show her the man he had been before.
Chapter Nine
The blue expanse of the sky was blemished only by the wafting of clouds far on the horizon as Marianne trotted her horse up to where William sat stopped before an old building with barely a lick of paint left on its outside and so much dirt on the windows the panes might have been painted over with black. She had never been to such an establishment, and she could not help but imagine the place filled with highwaymen and women of ill repute all vying for her attention in their subtle ways. What if she were kidnapped? No one but William knew she was here.
“You look worried,” William said. “We can go back if you would prefer?”
She shook her head, straightened her back, and dismounted with ease. She never realized how constricting her skirts could be, especially when it came to riding. Yet, she had not ridden astride since she was a child, and then she had been admonished for allowing her stockings to show to the knees. The clothing she currently wore, though not as soft as even her least favorite dress, made for a freedom of movement she never realized possible. Why was it men could wear breeches but women could not? Then she stifled a giggle. Women in beeches? What a sight that would be!
As soon as she was on the ground, William knelt down and rubbed his hands in the dirt. Marianne stared at him. What on earth was that man up to now? Then she gasped when he stood and placed his hands on either of her cheeks.
She pulled away. “William? What are you doing?”
“I’m concealing your face,” he explained as he took a step toward her and added a few touches here and there. “To hide such beauty really is a shame, though.”
Her heart jumped into her throat and she was frozen in place by his words. To have a man say such things had always been a desire she had, but to have them come from this man made her feel uncertain. What would Julia think? Even worse, what would her parents think?
At this moment, what did it matter? At this moment, she was not herself, but a young man in breeches and a coat with a dirty face. She reached down, rubbed her hand in the dirt, and then placed her hands on his cheeks. “There,” she said, stepping back to take a look at her handiwork. “Although your face is dirty, it is still handsome.” Then she realized what she had said. Perhaps the breeches made her tongue wag a bit more than it should have, but she felt a lightness in her heart she had never felt and she wished only to retain this feeling for as long as possible. To be free of the constraints of societal expectations was a relief she had never felt before, at least not to this extent.
“Come, let’s go inside,” he said with a wide grin. He exuded a confidence she had not seen in him before, and it excited her on various levels.
However, as she took her first steps toward the doors that led inside, Marianne could not help but feel a heaviness in her legs. He opened the door and they were barraged with loud, boisterous laughter and a pungent smell of old ale and unwashed bodies. It took everything in Marianne not to cover her nose from the stench, but it would have given her away in little time.
William, however, took a deep breath. “There’s no place like a pub,” he said, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the large room. “Can you hear the happiness?”
Happiness? Granted, there was the laughter, but it was not laced with happiness but rather held a harshness that made her shiver. Cursing resounded from all corners of the room where men stood drinking, and rather than simply speaking to one another, they shouted! At one table, a woman sat in a man’s lap, laughing at something he had said in her ear. her silk skirts were pulled up and hooked into a belt around her waist to show her petticoats underneath, and her bosom was close to falling out of the neckline. Although Marianne knew love had no boundaries, the woman appeared of an age of Marianne; however, the man on whose lap she sat had to be thrice her age!
In another corner sat two men surrounded by a deep darkness that seemed to emanate from them. Not far from them, a man sat alone hunched over his ale in a drunken stupor. Marianne suspected that if she were to touch the man, he would fall over onto the floor and not even notice.
William had to raise his voice to be heard. “Follow me.”
She followed William to a long counter made from a massive log that had been cut in half and varnished to a high sheen. It was not to say it was clean, but it was the cleanest place in the entire pub, and she was glad to be there.
Behind the bar stood a round man with a thick mustache. He was cleaning a mug with an apron dirtier than his shirt, and she hoped beyond all hopes that he would not offer that same vessel for her to drink from.
“Two of your finest ales,” William called out merrily to the man.
The man narrowed his eyes at them. “I need to see yer coin first,” he said in a voice that sounded as if it were being pulled across a washboard.
Marianne could not believe the audacity of the man, but William did not seem offended as he pulled out several coins and placed them on the counter. The barkeep gave a single nod and went to pour their drinks.
As they waited, Marianne took a moment to study the remainder of the room. It was dark, to be sure, with a low ceiling and heavy beams. A few candles sputtered in mirrored sconces on the walls, but they did little to light the room. She imagined that if they were to wash what she suspected was years of coal dust from the windows, there would be no need for the candles, at least during the day.
There were not as many people there as she first thought, perhaps a dozen at the most, and what she had mistaken as evil laughter was in all actuality hearty. Along a far wall, half a dozen men sat around a large table playing a game of cards, a small pile of coins in the middle of the table.
She was unsure how much time had passed, but a drink was thrust into her hands, and William leaned in to say, “There, in that corner. We’ll sit there.” He pointed a now grubby finger to an empty table that sat between the card players and the shadowy men.
Marianne took the chair he indicated but did not pull out for her. Of course. He would not do that for another man, which she was supposed to be. The uneven wood on the seat ground into her bottom, but she made no complaint. This was William’s chance to show her his world, and she would not be rude.
William took the chair across from her and lifted his mug to his lips. When he brought the mug back down, he smacked his lips and sighed. “Ahh, nothing like a good pint.”
Marianne looked down at her ale. She had never had ale before, not from a pub, and she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. The taste was better than she expected, good in fact, and without thinking, she took a second drink, this time for much longer.
“I have never had ale before,” she said, keeping her voice low as to not give away her disguise. “I find it…wonderful!”
He chuckled at her words. “One of the finest drinks there is,” he said. “Oh, how I miss having a nice pint. Brandy is nice enough, but nothing can take the place of a good quality ale. I’ve had my fair share of the cheaper ales, of course, when times were lean, but this is definitely the better.”
Marianne nodded, although she did not truly understand. One of the men at a nearby table looked her way and she looked down, terrified someone she knew would recognize her. Then she giggled. It was highly unlikely anyone she knew frequented such a place as this.
“You see those people?” William asked with a nod toward a table in the corner. “None of them care who you are, or rather they don’t care about a person’s station. They only care to enjoy themselves. It’s quite different than what you’re used to, I’d bet.”
She frowned. “My friends like me for who I am,” she said acidly. “And I realize I come from a different background than you, but I assure you that, in many ways, we are very similar.”
“Forgive me,” he said, his head low. “I did not mean to insult you. What I meant to convey was that no one will judge you here or look twice at you. So, enjoy yourself.” He raised his mug in a toast. “To friends.”
She gave him a wide grin. “To friends,” she said, tapping her mug against his. She took another drink and looked around the pub. They had been there only a short time and already she was started to relax. Before she knew it, her mug was empty and William had left only to return with two new pints.
“I should be careful,” Marianne said, though she took the drink in both hands and took a large sip. “This will be my last lest I risk drinking to excess.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” William asked with a grin.
“Yes,” she replied with a jut to her chin. “I am a lady, and although I can enjoy myself at times, it does not mean I should become drunk. Wearing these clothes is ghastly enough.”
William laughed so hard, his head reared back and almost slammed against the wall behind him.
Marianne felt her face ignite in embarrassment. “I see I amuse you yet again with my words,” she said. “Tell me, what do you find so amusing?”
“Did you know your eyebrows rise when you’re angry?” he asked. “I laugh because you have run off with a Duke, dressed in men’s clothes, and are now drinking with what society deems the lowest of the classes. Yet, in all that, you find some way to remain a lady. I laugh because you are steadfast in your ways.”
“And there is something wrong with a woman being steadfast?”
“Not at all. In fact, it is a trait I admire. There is no doubt you are a lady above all ladies. It has been an honor and a privilege to have met you.”
Marianne stared into the amber liquid in her mug. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then she looked up at him. “May I be honest with you?”
“Of course. You should always be honest with me.”
She took a deep breath and looked at the ale once more, which she suspected was loosening her tongue more than it should, but she could not have stopped herself from speaking if she had tried. “When I first met you, I did not believe that you could become
the Duke society needs. However, you have proved me wrong.”
The smile that erupted on his face told her all she needed to know, that what she said made him happy. And sitting there with him in this place that was strange to her, she realized that he made her happy, as well.
***
The stew that William had ordered for them from the small kitchen at the back of the pub was unlike anything Marianne had ever eaten, and she found herself scraping her spoon against the side of the bowl to catch every last drop of its thick gravy before pushing the bowl away. She felt giddy as she sat back in the chair and grinned at William, who grinned back at her. Somewhere deep inside, she hoped she did not appear as featherbrained as he, but in all reality, she cared not.
“Last drink,” he said, his words slurred in a strange manner as the barkeep set two more mugs of ale in the middle of the table. She shook her head, but the room swam around her, and she had to grab the edge of the table to steady herself. Two men had come in some time ago, one with a flute and the other with a violin, and began to play all sorts of music, none of which Marianne had ever heard before. The sound was not quite on key, but it was fun regardless.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Her inner self advised against accepting one last ale, but her happy, outer self told her, ‘What harm could one more do?’, so she picked up the mug, held it in both hands, and toasted, “To ale!”
“Here, here!” the woman in the dirty silk dress said from across the room.
Marianne sat down with a thud and then leaned in to whisper to William. “I thought the man earlier was her husband.” She laughed at the ridiculousness of a man so much older to be married to one so young before glancing toward the woman again and saw that she sat on the knee of yet another man, this one closer to her age but not by much, and she was shocked at where the man had placed his hand. “She must have many husbands.” She laughed again and found that she could not stop herself, which only made her laugh all the more.
“This is a wonderful song!” William shouted. “We sang this very song almost every time I went into my old pub!” He shot her a mischievous grin, and before she could respond, he stood with his drink and went over to where the men played—which happened to be close to the table where the woman sat in her embarrassing state—and William beat his hand on the table quite out of time with the music being played.
Return of the Duke: Regency Hearts Book 2 Page 9