by Kya Lind
Greyson cursed at his grandparent as he pulled the gown back up on her shoulder.
“I must go if I am to keep my word, love.”
Honesty dropped her head forward in acceptance. “Good night,” and then he was gone.
Honesty shucked out of the gown and the under clothes which was easy since they were already undone. She crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up over her head. Why was everything so complicated? Why couldn’t she just climb into bed with Grey and find out where kisses led. Oh, she knew the anatomy of it, but somewhere along the lines the adults had never mentioned the feelings that came with it. Definitely something they had neglected to mention. Honesty shrugged. Maybe that is something parents did not want good little girls to be curious about. Honesty was certainly curious now. Her skin tingled as she remembered how Grey had kissed the emerald around her neck and the comment about belonging naked against her skin. She sighed. Two months were an extremely long time.
♣♣♣
Greyson sat in his study the next day, frustrated and fretting. He had moved too fast. After only a handful of kisses, he had started stripping her out of her clothes. He must have frightened her to death. He should have gone slower. Where was his control? An image of Honesty’s kiss dazzled eyes filled his mind. He groaned and slammed his ledger against the desktop. He had been right to not kiss her before. Greyson shifted uncomfortably. Two months. Was two months too early for a baby to arrive without questions? He frowned and raked his hand through his hand. Probably. How about six weeks, didn’t babies arrive early all the time? Was six weeks too early? And who said she would become pregnant immediately. There were methods to prevent the occurrence. Maybe if they used the methods and only waited until an early delivery was not questionable? A month early was not unreasonable was it?
Greyson remembered his grandfather’s joke that the second child took nine months, but the first one could come at any time.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The footman ushered in his sister. She flounced over and flopped ungracefully in the high-backed chair. He smiled as he remembered that with no one else was she allowed to act this way. He was after all only her big brother and no one to impress.
Teresa sighed dramatically and waved a letter in his direction. “You have no idea what trouble I had obtaining this information, the work and worry.”
Greyson raised his eyebrow, “You asked and your friend Elizabeth fell over herself to share the gossip.”
Teresa frowned and nodded, “Something like that.”
“Well,” Greyson waited.
Another dramatic sigh and then a long pause, Greyson did not rise to the bait, but sat patiently waiting.
“Elizabeth has informed me that Lord Horace and Lord Lenore are beside themselves with worry at your reaction to their wives’ insult of your intended. It seemed that the two ladies were discussing the possibly of Honesty increasing even now. Honesty overheard them and may have misinterpreted the intent of the conversation.” At this Teresa’s tone of voice and body language clearly indicated what she thought of the ‘conversation’. “Honesty confronted them.” Greyson’s face showed his surprise, “and apparently, informed the women that she would be sure to share their conclusion with you and that she found it ill-mannered for them to insult a future duchess in her own home.” Greyson and Teresa laughed together as they tried to picture the event. “She also said something about early enemies remembered late” Teresa added, reading from the letter directly.
Greyson realized he should not be surprised that his angel quoted Robert Kinard, a modern social reformist.
“Honesty did not tell you of this incident.”
“No,” Greyson shook his head. “And I knew she would not that is why I had you write Lady White.”
“Interesting,” Teresa tilted her head and grinned, “All I can say is your young wife is a spitfire, just wait until she finds her duchess feet and she will be as formable as grandmother, I have no doubt.”
“And I am depending on you and grandmother to show her what she needs to know. But you will not change her, not her clothes, or her manners, or her beliefs.”
“Am I to understand that you want me to teach Honesty to be a duchess without changing her from the girl she is now?” Teresa looked at him as though he was a brick wagon short of a horse.
“Yes, it should not be difficult. Honesty is already good at organizing people, directing activities, and dealing with multiple things at one time. She is to learn things one step at a time and is not to be overwhelmed by the tasks. Do I make myself clear?”
Teresa nodded, “Oh, yes, Your Grace.” Teresa tone had the same simpering agreeable voice that the servants used in the presence of the duke. His sister knew how that tone irritated her brother to death.
After Teresa left Greyson reflected on the information. He had thought something like that had happened, but he was surprised by Honesty’s direct confrontation with the two women. Should he intervene or allow her to handle it? His hands absentmindedly tapped against the edge of the desk. He pondered the women’s conversation. Was that why Honesty had said no last night? His grandmother seemed convinced that Honesty increasing before the wedding would ruin her in society. Greyson remembered Lady Horace’s rude and pointed questions. Her none too subtle search for anything to discredit Honesty’s worth. And the only thing they would find would be if she became pregnant before the wedding. Greyson slapped his hands down hard. He renewed his resolve to only court Honesty as she had requested until the wedding. They could manage this. And besides, if her father had not insisted they would now only be engaged. He would court her and wait the two months. It would be an event that they would look back on in fifty years and laugh about; if it didn’t kill him first.
♣♣♣
Honesty approached SarahBeth cautiously. “You wished to speak with me, Your Grace.”
The older women stared at Honesty in disapproval. “I have requested that you call me grandmother.”
Honesty bowed her head, “Yes, grandmother.”
“What is this I hear about you having an out with the ladies come to dinner last night?”
Honesty’s face flamed and she refused to meet the dowager duchess’ eyes. “I am sorry.”
“For what dear girl, that you didn’t toss them out on their ear as they deserved? I do admire your spunk, young lady. I had not the self-confidence to have addressed them directly myself at your age. Oh, but I wish I had been so bold at four and twenty. It would have made my life as a young duchess so much easier.”
Honesty gazed at SarahBeth in amazement at her words.
“You approve?”
“But of course.”
“But I was brash, and condescending, and returned insult for injury. I overstepped my place and caused problems between Grey and his neighbors.”
The dowager duchess nodded, “Greyson was right. I understand what he was saying now about you holding yourself to a ridiculous standard. Child, what you did last night was perfectly within your right. And you would be expected to go further if you wanted. You cannot overstep your place, girl – you are the Duchess of Devonshire. And neighbors or not Greyson barely tolerates the lot of them.
The older woman patted Honesty’s knee, “Child, listen to me. I believe that most of the behaviors that your stepmother viewed as flaws in your character are actually your strengths. From what I understand, your stepmother is very jealous of all the qualities you have in you that remind her of your mother. Those are the traits that caused your mother to be the queen of society. The same qualities that Robert told me won you the same place in your short season. I imagine knowing what I do of human nature that during that time, Mrs. Williams was impossible to please, and harangued you after every event.”
Honesty’s eyes widened and she nodded.
“My advice to you, child, is to consider every action your stepmother dismissed and tried to squash, the ones you should cultivate and practice.”
Hon
esty laughed in shock. Her mouth worked, but no sound emerged.
“Now, dear, how do you want to handle the incident of the Horaces?”
“How do you think I should handle it?”
“Well, if you agree, I shall send a note, issuing the invitation to the wedding once more. Because we are neighbors. And remind them that rudeness will not be tolerated again. That way the ladies must work to make amends and win your good grace.”
Honesty nodded in agreement.
“I recognized your excellent character, the first night we met. I cannot imagine a better match than you for Greyson. We are just doubly blessed that you shall be able to handle the position of duchess so easily.”
“But, grandmother, I shan't handle it well. I am going to do something truly embarrassing and all of you will hate me.” Honesty blurted out. “I don’t know how to be a duchess.”
“Then I shall teach you after the wedding.”
“No, teach me now.” Honesty begged of the older woman. “Please teach me now.”
SarahBeth regarded the young girl. “If that is what you want.”
Honesty remembered these were the exact words used by Grey last before. It hadn’t been what she wanted last night and it was not what she wanted now, but it was what she needed to do. “Yes, please, grandmother.”
♣♣♣
Greyson arrived late for dinner that night. He had not seen Honesty all day because of several small crisis that he had to handle immediately. He bowed next to her chair and placed a chaise kiss on her gloved hand, before taking his seat.
“I trust you slept well.” Greyson tone was polite, but his eyes held a wicked glint.
Honesty bowed her head and did not answer, the color high in her cheeks.
Greyson chuckled and picked up his fork.
The dowager duchess made an announcement. “Gregory and his family and Timothy and his family should be coming any day.”
“Why are they coming so early, grandmother?” Greyson wanted to know.
“Dear, some of our family is coming from as far away as Scotland and France. They must travel in the good weather. And not chance arriving late.”
“And,” added Robert, “they must not miss the chance to sop from your table for as long as politely possible.”
Teresa’s gaze scolded her husband of four years. “Tis family.”
Robert laughed and raised his glass, “Yes, family, any reason to sit at a duke’s table and imbibe in good port.”
“Doesn’t Timothy have that gaggle of insistently twittering girls.” Greyson frowned.
“Yes, and all shall be at the table for they are of marriageable age now,” groaned Robert. Teresa slapped him on the arm with her fan.
“Please do make sure they are seated next to you, grandmother.” Greyson waved down the table at the dowager duchess. “I am sure they need more time with their grandmatron. And away from me, if you please.”
SarahBeth piped up, “Of course, Your Grace, but that will put Gregory and his wife on your end.”
Robert, Teresa, and Greyson groaned in unison. Honesty looked at each of them in speculation.
“Can we not sit them in the formal dining hall, and we will continue to eat in here?” suggested Robert hopefully.
“They are family, Robert,” reminded the dowager duchess, “and it is not so bad, Henry and Ester do not arrive until next week.”
The group groaned again.
“Well, you know what they say, two places you should never invite family to – weddings and funerals.”
“Why would you say that, Robert?”
Robert smiled, “Because at no other time, will people who have been fueding for years agree to come together under the same roof for an extended period of time. Ester cannot stand Gregory’s wife, Wanda.”
“Timothy and Henry have not talked to each other since our wedding,” added Teresa.
“And all these people will be here for the next two months?”
“Oh, yes and many more. The castle has forty bedrooms and all of them shall be filled shortly.”
Honesty paled. “How will they all be feed, with so many?”
“Do not worry,” SarahBeth explained, “all of the near relatives have been instructed to bring every servant they employ. And more will be sent from London. Our only worry is that the fall rains come early and make traveling difficult.”
Robert chuckled, “that shall not distress our family, they will just have an excuse to stay longer and drink more of Greyson’s excellent port.”
After dinner, Greyson escorted his grandmother to her suites and returned to find the group in the grand music room. Greyson turned the pages of music for Honesty as Teresa played the harp.
Chapter 18
The dinner bell rang, and Greyson collected Honesty from the group of twittering girls that seemed to surround her at any given minute. Greyson knew he would not mind the gaggle as much if he would not so concerned with Honesty’s open tender heart. He was afraid that Honesty accepted their friendship as genuine; whereas, he knew the signs of status seeking in a least half of the young girls - all his relatives in one form or another. Greyson had gently tried on several occasions to point out the friendships were not all they seemed, but Honesty would not hear anything against her new friends. She only accused him of being cynical. He had admitted this to be true because of experience and let the topic drop. Greyson accompanied Honesty to the dining hall and sat her at his right hand. His grandmother signaled and the first course was served. Greyson watched Honesty as the soup was served. He could tell that she still was not sleeping well. She had tried to explain the emptiness that she called homesickness. The need to see the children. It dimmed the light in her eyes and dampened her happiness even now. His grandmother had said that time would ease the longing in her soul, but he didn’t see that happening. He could well imagine he would feel the same way if Honesty were to leave him. He could not imagine getting over that lose quickly. These feelings made him uneasy, he had never felt this overwhelming need for another person in his life. Not since his Nanny Morgan had died when he was fifteen. And to know that he was the cause of Honesty’s unhappiness was a guilt that he lived with every day. He also recognized his resentment that Honesty did not feel the same way toward him. He knew that she liked him and was growing fond of him, but given the choice she would return to her children in a heartbeat. He felt guilty about forcing her hand to marry him. Now he realized that she would never have freely chosen to leave the children. He frowned at his plate.
Honesty reached forward and gently squeezed his hand. His eyes met hers. After a long conversation a couple of weeks before, he had explained that she was not to take his expression as his displease in something she had said or done. He had promised to tell her immediately if she did something he did not like. Since the discussion, Honesty had accepted his dark looks and closed countenance as the mask that it was and gave gentle encouragement when he fretted and worried. Greyson returned her gesture.
“What are your plans for the coming season?” questioned his cousin’s wife.
“We have no plans to attend the season this year,” Greyson commented in his usual flat tone.
“Oh, but you must. You cannot keep your new duchess buried in the country especially her first winter. Everyone will be looking forward to you presenting her to the ton. It is the thing, you know.”
“I am not marrying to provide the ton with entertainment. I am marrying to please myself and no others. I care not what others expect, and never have. I don’t see why I should start now.” Greyson’s tone was still dry and expressionless. A slight color touched Honesty’s cheeks. Honesty’s eyes did not lift from her concentration on her plate.
“But you must present her this winter. It is expected to introduce her to the ton before she cannot attend again,” Cousin Wanda interjected.
“What do you mean, madam?” asked Greyson in a distracted voice.
“Why, before she tends to be increasing with an h
eir.”
Greyson glared at the woman. First the group waited in bated breath to see if Honesty was increasing even now so that they could hold her in contempt, but at the same time expected that she should produce his heir the second they were wed. Greyson gritted his teeth; Honesty was not a brood mare, and he resented her being treated as such.
The dark edge entered his voice, the tone that told others of his wrath to come. “I would request that the lot of you stop speaking as though Honesty were not in the room. I find it very disrespectful.” The room fall silent as his words travel loud and clear down the length of the table.
“Oh, of course, Your Grace.” Wanda tittered, “No, disregard intended, dear,” she addressed herself to Honesty.
Greyson watched Honesty nodded in acceptance of the apology without lifting her head. He squeezed her hand again.
As the last course was served Honesty gently disengaged her hand from his and pulled herself up. Conversation on their end of the table was muted after his command. Greyson scowled. He remembered his grandmother’s remark that any intelligent lady would not want to be a duchess. He had taken her away from her children and given her only his status-minded family in return. He had taken away her happiness and given her position and heartache. He frowned and there was nothing he could do about the situation until September when she would be declared his duchess publically; six more week of this hell. Neither of them would make it if something did not happen to lessen the burden of the situation. He wished there was some way to have her as his wife without to duchess part. He smiled ruefully as he escorted Honesty from the dining room. He had been told his whole life that any girl would be blessed to be his duchess, but now he knew the truth. He guessed his family had not expected him to be wise enough to marry someone smart enough to recognize the situation for what it was - a burden to be endured.
Greyson collected Teresa and led Honesty on a walk in the night garden. Away from his family and the problems that watched their every move.