by Abby Ayles
“I suppose it is that way of most men,” Mr. Caulfield replied.
“Indeed.”
For a moment, all was quiet. The duke had hoped that the conversation was concluded but felt that the father of his wife had something more to say.
“Is she happy?” he finally asked.
The Duke of Sandon was surprised at this question, so unlike the previous. In truth, he could not answer this one. He believed that he well knew the answer. It was rather clear that his wife was unhappy. But how could he bear to tell that to her father who had worked so tirelessly to upgrade her station?
“I fear, Mr. Caulfield, that you must ask your daughter about that. I can only answer you as a man who married her. She can tell you the truth in its entirety. I am merely a man and I do not understand the workings of a woman’s mind,” the duke confessed as the only honest answer he could reasonably give.
“Oh, but my daughter is so stubborn. She is hardly inclined to give me an honest reply. Whether happy or not, she was opposed to the marriage from the beginning and will not now agree to the wisdom of it,” Mr. Caulfield said dryly.
“Then perhaps there is reason for it,” the Duke of Sandon said. “Perhaps she is truly unhappy and we ought not to write off her feelings as though it is simple stubbornness or complacency. If she be unhappy, we ought to try to understand why or she will never better her feelings surrounding these circumstances,” the duke said reasonably.
Mr. Caulfield looked at him in surprise. The duke understood why. It was not common for a husband to consider these things so diligently. But he did not wish to be as most husbands. He wanted his wife to be happy. He wanted to provide for her and keep her content.
“I can see, Your Grace, that you are choosing to care for my daughter a great deal. For that I thank you. I wish to see her happy. I know not if she ever shall be, but I wish it. I truly do,” Mr. Caulfield said with a sadness in his eyes.
The duke nodded in agreement. He was feeling rather uncomfortable and wished for the conversation to end before the reality of his wife’s lack of comfort in her home became the topic of conversation.
He did not wish to confess it even to himself, but he had seen in her eyes the pain every day. It had been a week since that evening in which she had shown an interest in him and asked about his day. And in the week that followed, she had given him the coldness that he had feared might come.
The young woman he had married was clearly unable to care for him. One moment she might be kind to him and the next she seemed to detest him. The confusion was driving him mad and the Duke of Sandon was considering how he might manage it.
He could not see why she would not simply show one side. Could she not be consistent for even a matter of days? Could she not show him her true self long enough for him to understand what it was that she wanted?
The Duke of Sandon stood and led Mr. Caulfield away and back towards the parlor that they might meet with the rest of the family and no longer be in such a position that his wife’s father might read how he perceived her. He wished for peace and that could not come of his honest feelings.
Upon reaching the parlor, the women were laughing and enjoying tea. His wife seemed to have utterly forgotten the unhappiness of her new life and he saw such a light in her eyes until they fell upon his face.
Once more there was a confused coldness. The sort that wished and hoped for something more but could not expect to find it. The duke wondered if she might ever sit with him again as they had.
The family was soon led to the dining hall where they enjoyed a feast for dinner.
“Have you ever seen such a large chicken?” Miss Georgette exclaimed in loud surprise.
The duke’s wife shushed her sister for appearing so foolish and invested in the thought of a chicken. But the duke himself did not mind and appreciated the fact that the young woman was so eager to see such a fine beast.
More food was brought out and soon the meal was well under way.
“You have a mighty beautiful home, Your Grace,” Mrs. Caulfield said again. She had been making the comment during the whole of their visit and the duke saw that the enthusiasm for the comforts of his estate were not typical of this family.
“Thank you, Mrs. Caulfield. Having seen how tastefully you decorated your own, I am honored by the compliment,” he replied politely, hoping that she would take his compliment to heart.
The duke hated the knowledge that there was such a class distinction between himself and this family. And while it was true that he had built the estate to impress, he had not built it to impose.
He wondered if his wife might be embarrassed by the home in which she now lived, that others might judge her far too harshly for the change she had encountered in her status. Would she worry that her family thought her changed as a result?
“Have you any younger brothers?” asked Miss Georgette to the horror of the rest of the family.
“Georgette,” Mrs. Caulfield threatened in a harsh whisper. The young woman looked at her mother in confusion, not understanding why her obvious question was so inappropriate.
The Duke of Sandon placed a polite smile on his face and shook his head.
“I am afraid not, Miss Georgette. But I do believe that your sister will meet a great deal of young men in society from some of the balls we shall attend this season,” he answered.
“Balls?” Miss Georgette asked in tempered excitement.
“Indeed, Miss Georgette. Your sister and I shall be expected to attend them as a part of society. I shall be sure to keep an eye out for any young men who might have the honor of marrying into the Caulfield family as I have been so honored,” the duke replied mischievously.
The conspiratorial look between himself and his wife’s sister was one he hoped might pass for an attempt to care for her family.
He did not know if she would consider it such, but the Duke could not help but look to his wife and see the twitching of her mouth as she tried to suppress a smile.
He took it as another small sign of encouragement. Perhaps he could make her laugh after all.
Chapter 19
“But I do like the cranberry color,” Delia said, holding up the block of fabric.
“It is so dark,” Georgette complained.
“Perhaps I don’t mind that. Why do you mind it so much? You are always opposed to the dark colors,” Delia replied.
“But you will look dreary. If you’ve got to become a governess, can you not at least dress like a youthful one?” Georgette continued.
Thea laughed, watching the argument unfold. She knew that Georgette was only complaining because she wanted a new dress for herself as well but had no reason to convince their parents to help her purchase one.
“Georgette, if you cannot be of some use, you might as well return home. You begged Mother and Father to allow you to go shopping with Thea and I and all you can do is complain. Have you learned to do nothing else?” Delia scolded.
Thea grabbed a row of ribbons that matched the color of the fabric.
“I am rather fond of the color. It has the respectability of a governess but with a slight red to remind the world that you have not given in to spinsterhood. You have chosen well,” Thea said with a flourish.
“I think I like your opinion better than hers,” Delia replied, nodding to Georgette who was still pouting childishly.
“Do you think Mother and Father will ever cease to allow her to behave thus?” Thea whispered in concern.
“Truly, I do wonder,” Delia replied. “There are times that I can hardly fathom how she is related to you and I. Her behavior is maddening at times.”
Thea nodded, wondering what might come of their sister were she not reeled in.
“But all of that aside, I am so thrilled for you,” Thea said, watching Delia lift the fabrics and hold pieces to feel the weight of it in her hands.
“Thank you. I am glad this day has finally come. You know, they are a very wealthy family. And it is only two young
girls that I’m to be a governess for. It is hardly some of the stories I’ve heard about five or even six children and being paid only a small fee, hardly enough to cover the difficulty of one child,” Delia bragged.
“Yes, well you are truly worth every penny. They shall love you, I’ve no doubt. You shall be an amazing governess,” Thea encouraged.
“You believe so?” Delia asked.
“With all my heart,” she replied.
“Oh, do hurry up now! I want to go to the sweets shop. Thea, you promised me that you would buy me a cake,” Georgette complained, clearly wanting to be rid of all the beautiful clothes that would never be hers.
“Georgette, I shall do no such thing as to reward this behavior of yours. You must allow Delia to choose what she likes and we shall wait here as measurements are taken. I will not coddle you when you act like such a boor,” Thea warned.
“Oh, but she is simply too great a queen for something so awful as waiting,” said a boy from the corner.
Thea had noted him when they entered the shop, but as he was an assistant who simply kept the place clean, the young women had not gone to him with their inquiries.
Georgette beamed at the compliment.
“You needn’t encourage her so…” Thea replied dryly.
“But how can a queen know she is a queen if no one tells her she is one?” he asked. Thea worked through the question and found it made little sense, but she saw that he was, indeed, cheering Georgette and getting her mind off the fact that she would not get a new dress.
“I know, you wish for a new dress to befit a queen, do you not?” he asked teasingly.
“Why, of course!” Georgette exclaimed in amusement.
“I do believe I have just the thing,” the young man said before disappearing behind a curtain.
In a moment he returned with his hands behind his back.
“Now, I wish you to close your eyes,” he instructed Georgette.
She did as told.
“And hold out your hands,” he said next.
Georgette looked nervous, but finally she stuck out her hands. Thea and Delia were watching intently, feeling that this prank might end with their sister in a worse fit than she had been in so far that day.
“Now, keep your eyes closed and feel this,” he said, placing a single, torn white ribbon in Georgette’s hand.
She tightened her eyes closed but allowed her thumbs to rub against the silky softness of the ribbon.
“Do you feel it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied with a soft giggle.
“Now, I shall tell you how to turn this into the most beautiful gown in all the world,” he continued and Georgette nodded with her eyes still closed and a grin on her face.
“Right, first you must wiggle your nose,” he ordered.
Georgette’s eyebrows came together but she began to wiggle her nose.
“Excellent. And now, purse your lips together tightly,” he said, to which she followed.
“And now say the words after me,” he instructed. “Oh, but you must keep your lips pursed together. And why did you stop wiggling your nose?”
Thea and Delia were trying to control their laughter as they watched the silliness overtaking their younger sister’s face. As she attempted to purse her lips and wiggle her nose at the same time, she looked terribly silly.
“Good. Now say the words after me, hoogidy boogidy,” he said enthusiastically.
“Hoogi-” Georgette began before bursting into laugher and opening her eyes. Thea and Delia joined in, appreciating that the young man had utterly changed their sister’s mood while giving them an opportunity to see the faces she had made.
The young man bowed and folded Georgette’s hand over the piece of ribbon.
“You must keep this as a reminder that you need no dresses to enjoy yourself,” he said before turning to Delia.
“And for you, Miss, I do agree that the cranberry is just the thing,” he said with a charming grin.
Looking at Thea, finally he seemed perplexed.
“For you, my lady, I do not think ribbons are quite what you are seeking,” he said wisely. “But my father might have something else in mind.”
He looked at Thea in a strange way, as if he were seeing her pain. She was confused by this young man, the shopkeeper’s son, who was so intuitive about what each of them needed in that moment.
Just as Georgette needed a reminder of something other than material wealth and Delia needed a confirmation, Thea knew nothing of what she needed.
They left the shop soon after, with Delia having placed her order for the dress that would take her to London in just a few weeks’ time. They made a stop at the bakery as Thea had promised.
Her husband, the duke, had given her a few pounds for small indulgences while she was out with her sisters and she was now very thankful for it. While she knew she needed no more cakes for a good deal of time, Delia and Georgette were not accustomed to such luxuries.
There was a sense in the air that perhaps things might improve for all of them. Thea didn’t know how her circumstance could change, but knowing that Delia had finally secured work as she had longed to do was a great opportunity.
Thea was excited to see her sister move on to something that she would do well in and that she had planned for.
Wondering why she had not prepared so well for herself before the marriage, Thea thought about life as a governess or a housekeeper for some wealthy couple. She wondered if she and the duke might have a child someday that she would be expected to hand over to a governess when she was perfectly capable of raising and teaching the child herself.
Then again, if they had sons, she would have to send them off to school as her brothers had gone. She had seen that it had been a great challenge for her mother to watch them go.
Thea was, once again, appreciative of her father. While his work was that of a merchant and he was not considered wealthy by any man’s standards, he was wise with his money and had managed it well. He sought to provide for his family and that had been a priority for as long as Thea could remember.
She drank tea while her sisters indulged in cake and spoke more about the dresses and the things they wished they could afford to buy. Thea wondered if she ought to fix one of the dresses from the duke to fit Georgette but didn’t wish to anger him.
She was wearing the first dress that she had tailored. The second was completed as well, but she had barely begun the third, not minding to wear her own clothing when she was able to stay in the house.
It also gave her more time to read if she was not too busy sewing. And any time she had to read was valuable. It seemed to be her primary solace at home.
Thea had snuck into the duke’s study one more time to get more paper for her letters but had found the desk perfectly tidy with no more bank statements to analyze and judge. A small part of her was sad for this. It would have been nice to have proven herself correct by finding further information regarding his greed.
But she had tried once more to make conversation when they had crossed paths in the library.
The duke had recently come from his day and she had asked him again how it had gone. Only she had not been sitting that time and the duke did not either. He replied politely but with little detail and had grabbed the volume he was searching for before exiting the room.
Thea remembered these things as she stared into the cup of tea that she held. She wondered whether or not the duke had chosen not to waste his time with her. Or if, perhaps, it was more of his arrogance keeping her at a distance.
She still felt suspicious of him and had not yet come to a place of truly getting to know him as she had discussed with Margaret.
Thea had written a few of these things to Delia, but with Georgette present, they could not talk about it freely. If they tried, they risked all of their words being repeated to their mother and father.
Delia glanced up from her cake just when Thea was staring at her.
“What i
s it? Have I got it on my face?’ Delia asked uncomfortably.
“Oh…no…sorry,” Thea replied awkwardly, coming out of her thoughts. “I was only thinking of…well, the things about which I have written. Think nothing of it at present. But perhaps we might find a day you can visit before your journey.”
Delia nodded, knowing that she, too, could say nothing in front of Georgette.
Once the cake and tea were finished, the young women made their way out and towards the train station. Thea would be taking her personal coach back towards Cambridge and her home with the duke, while her sisters would return to their village.