by Abby Ayles
But her mother had appeared strange and different. It was as though she had allowed the comparatively mild increase in their finances to grow her pride in a way that Thea found distasteful.
She hoped that Margaret would be able to come by again soon. Having someone to ask about these things, to find out what life was like in the village and how people were speaking of her family would help her to understand.
***
That evening, when the duke arrived at their home, Thea was surprised that he was to dine with her. He had avoided her to such an extent as of late that it was deeply unexpected.
Thea sat first and remained quiet while the duke made himself comfortable. It was not long before the food was brought so they did not have to suffer in the awkwardness for long.
“And how was your day?” the duke finally asked, breaking the quiet moment.
Thea’s heart thudded in her chest at the awareness she would have to speak with the duke throughout dinner that evening.
“It was very agreeable,” she replied.
“Did your mother come?” he asked.
“Indeed, Mr. Tyndale. She came and she was grateful for the treatment of the kitchen. I gave her a tour of the estate and she was rather taken by it,” Thea replied in a gentle voice as if finally making an effort.
This time it had been the duke who had initiated the conversation and she believed that it could be a chance for them to start fresh from all of their previous ordeals. It was possible that here, this evening, they could try to get to know one another.
“Well that is good to know,” he said in reply. “I hear things are working out very well for your father.”
Thea tried to place a smile on her face. She was still struggling deeply with the muddled feelings she had been having regarding the duke and her family and the damage done by money to a person’s soul. She wished to have a better heart towards the duke and, now, her father. But she was overwhelmed by distaste for it all.
“Yes, Mr. Tyndale. My mother has told me as much and my father has written in his letters. My younger sister, Georgette, was so pleased about it all,” Thea said, recalling the letter in which Georgette bragged about having a new dress and new silver ear bobs.
“It is very fortunate that it has worked out so well for him,” the Duke of Sandon said with a mild tone.
“And…and how was your day?” Thea asked hesitantly, not wishing to disturb him further but hoping he might be willing to speak with her more openly.
“My day was adequate. I had an opportunity to see a dear friend and also tend to some business as I typically do,” came the vague reply.
Thea nodded cautiously. The duke had not looked at her once throughout the dinner but was simply speaking while watching his food or the clock or anything else.
“And how is your mother?” Thea asked, knowing that the duke had not seen her in quite some time.
“My mother is the same as she always has been. It is her gift and her curse. Do you wish to visit her again? I am certain she would enjoy the opportunity to scrutinize,” the duke said, this time changing his tone to a hint of teasing. Thea saw him glance up at her for only a second and try to hide the grin on his face.
“I do enjoy being scrutinized. It is one of my very favorite activities,” she said in a voice that hinted on laughter. The duke looked at her fully then, as if relieved by her sarcasm.
“Then I believe you have married the correct man after all. To be sure, there is none in all of England who can do a better job at breaking another woman than my mother,” he answered in kind.
Thea caught herself smiling at the Duke of Sandon as he was smiling back, their food forgotten for a brief moment.
And then, as if in the same instant that he recalled his dislike for her, Thea remembered that she did not care for him, they both returned to their eating.
Still, something remained in the air of the room. A lightness, a break and relief from the weeks of tension and anger between the two of them. For a moment, Thea had not been suspicious of the Duke of Sandon and it appeared that he had not been so cold to her.
Oftentimes, in these rare moments they shared, Thea wondered if their dislike for one another was merely a misunderstanding of the other. What if, for the briefest of seconds, one of them made an effort to truly care for the other? Would they learn that perhaps they could have enjoyed one another’s company all along?
It was nonsense, Thea knew. She and the duke disliked one another because they were very different. No moment of peace between them could break such a dismal truth as that.
Thea took her final bites and waited until the duke had finished his as well. They said their farewells to one another and departed for the night.
“Oh, and Mrs. Tyndale,” the duke said suddenly before they exited the room.
“Yes?” she asked innocently.
“Do not forget my offer. My mother should love to devour you whole at any given opportunity. Please do let me know if you wish for it,” he said with a final teasing smile.
“I shall inform you as quickly as I am able, Your Grace,” Thea replied with an echoing smile before making her way up the stairs to her room.
Chapter 22
Two days prior, the duke had informed his wife that they had been invited to the theater. When he announced the opportunity, she had seemed overjoyed and the duke was glad to see such a response from her.
But now the night had arrived. Thea descended the stairs wearing a formal, white gown that he had purchased for her, one of the original three that she had tailored. It fitted her form quite exquisitely now, he could not help but notice.
“You look…quite beautiful,” the duke said, recognizing his own awkwardness as he paid the compliment.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she replied shyly, unable to maintain eye contact. “Y-you look very…distinguished.”
The compliment had been equally clumsy, but the duke was grateful for it nonetheless.
“Thank you, Mrs. Tyndale. Now come, we must be on our way,” the duke said, ushering his wife to the door so that they would not be late for the play that evening. It was to be hosted near the university.
“Of course, forgive me,” she replied, unable to conceal her excitement about the evening ahead. Surely she had never been to a performance the likes of this. It would be utterly new and pleasant for her.
To the duke, it was merely another of society’s many events that he must drag himself out for. But to his wife, this was a chance to enjoy her new life.
They made their way to the coach and the Duke of Sandon got in after his wife.
The ride was quiet between the two, but it was also not a long trip so there was little need to fill the silence. He watched as his wife examined the fan and the binoculars that were so fashionable for women to have at events like operas and performances. As they would be in one of the upper boxes, it was just the thing for her.
Mrs. Tyndale had also gone out of her way to do her hair up quite nicely. In all, he could see that she had made a great deal of effort and was evidently far more excited than he could begin to fathom. It was a joy to see her finally in such a good mood.
He had spent the previous few weeks avoiding her as his mind ran rampant with suspicion and wonderings. Knowing full well that he had probably been over exaggerating and the Duke of Arborshire had likely misinterpreted, he wished to believe in her goodness rather than these rumors.
And yet, he would not allow her to make a fool of him. If it did appear, indeed, that she was behaving in a manner considered unworthy of a duchess, or in opposition to her husband, he would have to discuss with her very sternly.
For the evening ahead, he would try very hard to enjoy himself and allow her to do the same. He did not care for the idea of performance. He cared more for the joys of good company, and the Duke of Sandon was certain there would be good company present that evening.
“Mrs. Tyndale, I do believe we are arriving,” the duke said, causing his wife to look
hard outside the window in the greying light of the sky. He knew she would be delighted by the magnificent building in which the performance was to be held and was not disappointed when he heard her small exclamation.
“You mean, we are to watch the show in there?” she asked, needing confirmation.
“Unless you would rather sit outside…” the duke replied teasingly.
She turned to him and grinned in a slightly embarrassed way.
“We have a fantastic box on the middle floor. You shall not need to strain your eyes to see anything. What’s more, no one’s head shall obstruct your view,” he promised.
His wife seemed delighted all over again and the duke inhaled deeply with satisfaction.
Soon they were inside the playhouse and mulling through the crowds of other social elites who had come with their wives and daughters scoping out the eligible sons.
“Mr. Grady,” the duke greeted seeing one acquaintance and then another and another.
“Mrs. Tyndale,” the duke began, leaning over to his wife and whispering. “You do not need to be nervous. I cannot blame you if you feel so, but please, I urge you not to have any concern. Truly, you are utterly welcome here.”
The duke could sense that his wife was aware that she was out of place in the setting with so many noble men and women around her. But he did not wish for her to feel that way and desired her to feel comfortable.
“Allow me to introduce you to some friends,” he said, making his way towards Thomas Baker, the Marquess of Davenberry and his family.
“Your Grace!” the man greeted with enthusiasm. His wife was a rosy-cheeked, matronly-looking figure. The Marquess and Marchioness of Davenberry were not the sort who might intimidate a young woman like his wife. They were well to do, but warm and friendly at all times.
“Lord Davenberry, it is well to see you. And Lady Davenberry, you look ravishing this evening!” he greeted happily.
“Oh, good heavens, is this her? How ever did you manage such a beauty, Your Grace?” Lord Davenberry asked, gesturing towards the duke’s wife.
“Indeed, this is my wife. The Duchess of Sandon,” he introduced. “As for the rest of your question, I’ve yet to learn the truth of it myself.”
His wife blushed but she smiled politely at the marquess and marchioness.
“It is lovely to meet you, my lord, my lady,” she said, giving a small curtsey.
“And you as well, Your Grace. Oh dear, we truly did worry that the old chap might never marry,” Lord Davenberry laughed.
The duke took it in stride, knowing that he was not as old as many men he knew who were as yet unwed. His wife, it seemed, was still feeling out of place, but he did notice that her posture relaxed ever so slightly around these new acquaintances.
Just then, he saw the Duke of Arborshire and knew he ought to go over and greet his friend; however, there was a slight hesitancy in his mind as far as leaving his wife alone after the accusation made against her.
“My lord, my lady, might you do me the favor of entertaining my wife for a brief moment? I am afraid that I have a business matter to discuss and she would find it frightfully boring,” the duke said apologetically.
“Oh, it would be our delight!” Lady Davenberry exuded.
The duke noted a brief glare from his wife. It was not from the thought of being left with such lovely people, but he sensed that she disliked him talking of business on an evening that was meant to be enjoyable. He wondered if she would rather he confessed the truth to her that it was not business but a matter of her reputation.
He thought she would prefer the lie.
The Duke of Sandon left the trio and made his way over to the Duke of Arborshire who had a glass of brandy in hand.
“Duke,” William greeted, bowing at the waist.
“Duke,” came the reply.
“I see that you have come with your new wife,” William remarked.
“Yes, well, I’ve little choice in the matter. Were I to come without her, the spies who watch her would note her lack of appearance. You know how it is at these things. All the women have binoculars and none are pointed to the stage,” he reasoned.
“Yes, but have you considered further what it is that I told you?” his friend asked rather forcefully.
“I have indeed,” the duke replied. “I have considered and I have decided that thus far I have seen no evidence to substantiate such a report. I know only that my wife is a cold, distant woman. Can I not struggle with one challenge at a time?”
“If she be unfaithful would her coldness matter to you in comparison?” William asked.
“Of course it would. I should always like to be aware of what it is that goes on in her thoughts and yet I fear I shall never be the wiser,” the duke replied.
“That is the way of suspicious women,” his friend warned again.
“Was there more than you told me?” the duke asked for clarity.
“No, not as of yet,” came the reply.
“Then I have nothing further to say on the matter. It is not until I have evidence beyond a bit of laughing that I will disbelieve my wife,” the Duke of Sandon swore.
William cocked an eyebrow.
“Allow your eyes to provide it for you. Do you see your wife now?” he asked.
The duke turned and saw that Lord and Lady Davenberry’s eldest son was engaging his wife in conversation. The young man could not have been more than a year older than his wife, but they seemed intent on getting to know one another.
The marquess and marchioness were still present and it was not as though there could be any ill word said or done in their presence. However, when he noted his wife’s laughter, the free smile she shone, and the way she straightened her back a little more to show her posture, he could not ignore the warning from his friend.
“You see…” William whispered darkly.
The Duke of Sandon swallowed.
“I see only a young man and a young woman enjoying a conversation with one another. I do not suppose this to be any form of impropriety so far as they are simply sharing anecdotes. The lad’s parents are standing directly beside them,” he noted, listing the reasons it was not suspicious even as his heart sank.
“I do believe that you have a blind spot for this woman you have married. She has you believing that it is well to do to engage the entertainment of another young man when she is already wed,” his friend noted.
“How many times must I defend her to you? How many times must I point you to the fact that she has done nothing in this moment that begs a question for her loyalty? She is merely having a conversation,” the Duke of Sandon defended through gritted teeth.
The Duke of Arborshire shook his head.
“You will never see it so long as you are blind,” he muttered before walking away.
The duke watched a moment longer and wondered why he could not converse with his wife so freely. The jealousy came rushing in deeply. Impropriety or no, it was not right that she should be so comfortable engaging the young man when he was the one she had married.
The Duke of Sandon was her husband. If she could not speak and laugh freely with him, it seemed unfair somehow that she could speak and laugh freely with another. He so desired her to be comfortable with him even as he enjoyed watching her now.
He returned to his place by her side and urged her to say her farewells to the marquess’ family just as he did. With his hand at the small of her back, he ushered her up the stairs and into their private box where they would be relegated and alone for the evening. No one would enter and disturb them and all who spied throughout the night would see only the duke with his wife.
Just before the curtain went down, the duke leaned over to her with a question that he knew she would not expect.
“Mrs. Tyndale, have you considered that we might have an opportunity for a nice, quiet trip?” he asked.
His wife’s face seemed to lose all its color. She was unsure what sort of trip he meant and he knew well that he ought
to explain so she did not misunderstand.
“I mean only for us to have some time away. A break from the estate. It will be a nice time and you shall see more of the country,” he promised.
His wife still seemed unsure of what to say, but gave him a slow nod.
“Y-yes, Your Gr- Mr. Tyndale. I think I should like that very much indeed,” she said.
“I am glad to hear it. I shall arrange it all,” he promised.
As he finished his words, the curtain pulled back to show a scene of dark woods.