Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

" Y our Grace."

"Yes, what is it?"

"You have a caller."

Phillip looked up from the paperwork on his desk and furrowed his brow. Who could be calling this early? The butler brought forth the tray with the card on it, and he knew immediately by the stationery who it would be. Of course.

Who else?

"Send him up," he sighed. "Whether I tell him that I am busy or not, he will still appear in my doorway."

The butler nodded, and moments later, Emmanuel Hayward sat before Phillip in the chair opposite his desk.

"How do you do, my dear nephew?"

"Well," Phillip answered drily, refusing to look up from his work.

"Are you going to continue to treat me like a rival? I have come to make my peace with your new wife. Where is she?"

The Duke looked up now, alarmed. "What could you mean?" he demanded. "What interest could you possibly have in Marina?"

"Send for her. I want to meet her," Emmanuel insisted.

"I should think not," Phillip answered. "We have not been married yet a week. She is busy learning her new position as Duchess. Perhaps next month we can arrange a dinner."

Bored, the Duke tried to return to his paperwork, but Emmanuel was insistent.

"I should think that after I took you in as my own, you would not want to keep me out of your day-to-day affairs, Phillip. It does not do to bite the hand which once fed you now that you no longer need to be fed."

The Duke and the Marquess met one another's gaze, caught there as if in a power struggle. Phillip was sure his uncle did not mean to imply what he was, and yet the message had been more than clear.

"She is overwhelmed, Uncle. It is not that you cannot meet her at all. It is merely that this is not the right time. I said I would arrange something, and I will." The finality in his voice echoed his conviction from that morning when he'd had to double down on telling Marina no to her request. He was starting to think that he should have followed his original instincts and stayed out of society for good.

"Very well. I will take my leave so the two of you can continue to get adjusted to married life, Phillip. But do not keep me waiting for long."

Marina hurried downstairs when she heard Phillip's uncle approach the door to the study. She was dressing for afternoon tea when she'd heard him arrive and had caught the tail end of their conversation on her way downstairs. None of what had happened since the night she met Phillip was making any sense. What was this, now? He had but one member of his family, and she was not permitted to meet him? Phillip knew very well that she had gone to her room to rest for an hour before her tea that afternoon. She had passed him in the hall, and they had exchanged tense but cordial pleasantries. There was no reason for him to deny the Duke's request unless he had other reasons for keeping her from his family.

She thought of this all the while she sat in the drawing room and awaited the arrival of her best friend and sister. Phillip stopped in for a moment before they did to bid Marina farewell on his way to town. She was polite, but there was no avoiding that there was more unspoken between the two of them which would need to be addressed.

"Will you be eating dinner in town?"

"Yes, most likely."

"Very well. If I do not see you again, have a good night."

"I will see you at breakfast?" he offered. She nodded her ascent though if it were up to her, she would pack her bags and run away to her home where her dear siblings and Papa were. It was customary for the ton not to call on her for her first fortnight of marriage, but it was dreadfully lonely here in these dark halls.

At last, Olivia and Kathrin arrived together for tea. Marina was so happy to see them that she could not help but throw her arms around them both in turn, pulling them into tight hugs. They sat together and talked, at first, of what the other two girls had been up to. Marina tried to immerse herself in their world which she missed deeply. She had gone from attending the opera and the theater or walking in the parks every evening to being shut up in this drab old house.

"How have you adjusted?" Kathrin asked at last. "If I can be honest, you do not quite seem yourself."

"Yes," Olivia agreed. "Something is clearly amiss."

"I suppose married life has not been all that I imagined as a little girl," Marina admitted with a sigh. "Just this morning I asked the Duke to accompany me to the ball tomorrow night, but he gave a very firm no . I do not know what I will do. I want to attend, but I cannot imagine attending alone for my first outing."

"Of course not," Olivia agreed. "What reason did he give?"

"He said that balls do not befit his tastes. There are too many curious people about."

"But that is the point of balls! To dance and be seen," Olivia protested.

"My husband does not see it so."

"You must attend," Kathrin said, reaching out to hold her friend's hands. "Come early in the afternoon, and no one will see you enter alone. We will merely speak loudly near the most untoward gossips of the ton about how he has had to retire early for a headache. I will not see you spending another night here alone. It is—not to cause you any offense—quite dreary here."

Marina gave a little laugh, comforted a bit but still distressed. "Perhaps. But I should not have to sneak around to attend social functions. In any case, the season is nearly over. Would it truly pain him so to attend the last few functions of the year?"

"How is he otherwise?" Olivia asked.

"Oh, Olivia, I am afraid I do not have a proper answer to give. We live as ghosts in the same house, passing not near but through one another. I am beginning to wonder why he offered to marry me at all."

"Do not fret, Marina. Things will look up for the two of you. You must remember that he, too, is new to this world. Perhaps he means only to allow you time to adjust without him hovering over you. If I were in his position, I would think that you would want some space to learn."

"Perhaps you are right, my sweet friend," Marina sighed.

"But what do you think of him, Marina? What do you know of his character?" Olivia stared at her with a twinkle in her eye that made Marina nervous.

"What could you mean? He is my husband."

"Do you find your husband charming? Handsome ? Is there romance budding between the two of you now that you have spent some time alone?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Marina gasped. "Ours was not a marriage of love. We met only once before he made the arrangement with my father. You know this. I only want to know him as a friend so that our lives together will be amicable."

Olivia's watchful eyes noticed the flush that came unbidden to Marina's cheeks, but she said nothing else on the matter, instead going on to distract her from the troubles of her marriage with a story of her visit to the opera the night before. Her favorite suitor had appeared in the Linfield box and sat and spoke with her father about politics and society for half of the show. It was all but a declaration of his impending proposal.

Kathrin, too, had good news. Her older brother's wife had given birth to a healthy young baby, and she would be off to meet her new niece soon. Marina was comforted that at least the people she loved most dearly were doing well, even if it was without her by their side. It felt like a sign that if she only persisted, she would soon find happiness in her new little life.

Marina saw her friend and sister off early in the evening, visited with Mathilde to complete some last-minute details for her household duties, then dined alone at the large mahogany table in the dining room. Her sullen mood did not permit her to sleep, once again, and so she found herself wandering her home late at night just like before.

Without a destination in mind, Marina's feet took her down the stairs and once more to the room where the portrait was hung. The cloth had been taken, but the painting remained. She wondered who had painted it. Reaching out to touch the frame wistfully, Marina tried to imagine what young Phillip had been like. Had he posed for the painting dutifully, or was his father's chagrin due in part to chasing a young boy around to get a family portrait done?

She could remember sitting for a family portrait or two herself, and she knew that she had certainly not made it easy on her poor Mama and Papa.

"Hello again, Miss Ward of the Night."

Startled, Marina turned with a hand to her chest to see Phillip approaching her with a grin on his face.

"Please," she gasped. "You cannot continue to frighten me so, or I shall perish before we reach our first year of marriage."

He chuckled, coming to stand beside her and looking up at the portrait she had just been examining. "My sincerest apologies. We cannot have that." Marina tried to study his face as he looked at the three figures in the portrait before them, but he revealed nothing to her. When she remained silent for too long, he spoke again.

"What is it that draws you to the corridors at midnight?"

It was her turn to smile. "It has always been so. When I was young, I would wake from nightmares, and my mother would find me wandering about the estate. Usually looking for her room. She would usher me back to bed at first, but eventually she started to take me down to the drawing-room and read to me. When I got older and was reading for myself, we would talk about the books I loved. It has been my favorite part of the day ever since. More so now that she has passed."

"Allow me to officially offer my condolences," he said softly, his eyes locked on the woman in the painting. "She sounds like a wonderful woman."

"Yes." Marina followed his gaze but landed, instead, on the chubby cheeks of a version of Phillip which was long gone. "This is a beautiful painting. They must be your parents?"

"They are," he answered at length.

"Your mother was radiant."

"She was. Thank you."

A chill passed between them, and Marina realized her mistake. Behind the deep forest-green color of his eyes, she could see that Phillip was harboring a pain he had not yet shared with her. If he was not ready to discuss this, she would not force him to do so.

"I'm afraid that it is getting too late even for me. I shall retire. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Your Grace." She began to walk away, but before she reached the stairs, she heard his voice, soft and gentle, calling behind her.

"Please, don't go yet."