Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

A t Garvey Manor, time spent outside was time well spent. A table, built for the weather, was on the back porch, with a wide canopy above to block out the sun. Alicia sat across from Ms. Crawford, books and papers spread out between them. Down in the garden, where Renfield moped through the flowerbeds, Lucy picked petals off flowers and Miss Ayles droned on about proper etiquette.

“Mrs. Barker sent some boys on a hunt yesterday afternoon,” Ms. Crawford explained as she wrote the meal list for the upcoming week, “and they returned with more game than expected. Mr. Livingston gave me the reports made by Mr. Dixon during the rent collection, and the yield is better this year than last. Harvest will make everyone excited for winter. What would you like them to do with the surplus, Your Grace?”

Alicia rested her chin on her palm, watching as Lucy rolled in the grass, staining the pale blue dress she wore.

“Are you listening, Your Grace?”

Alicia jumped, turning to look at the housekeeper. “I’m sorry, Ms. Crawford. What did you ask?”

“Where is your mind today, Your Grace?”

With a heavy sigh, Alicia looked back towards the girl. “Nowadays, it’s always elsewhere.”

“What troubles you?”

She hesitated. No one, including the housekeeper, had seemed anywhere near comfortable enough to give her any insight into the duke and his past at Garvey. But the curiosity and yearning to know more nipped at her fingertips. “Ms. Crawford,” Alicia began, “why is the duke so against having a ball?”

The housekeeper laughed. “I assume that means you talked to him about it.”

Alicia huffed. “I’m sure you can imagine how that conversation went.”

“Some families are close knit with their personal life,” Ms. Crawford said. “So much time of the summer season is spent within society, and the only respite is the family home. The duke had to take on his responsibilities earlier than expected, with the passing of his father. He entered society and his title before he was even ready for it. Is it truly hard to understand why the duke responded the way he did?”

“I suppose not,” Alicia muttered, though it was not what she truly believed. “It does not feel as though the duke wants a calm away from the ton. It is like there are things needed to be kept hidden in Garvey.”

Ms. Crawford stiffened as she wrote the meal plan. “There is nothing wrong with?—”

“A private family,” Alicia finished. “I know, Ms. Crawford, you’ve all said it to me.” Standing from the table, she walked toward the edge of the canopy’s shade, watching as Lucy walked alongside her governess through the gardens. “But I am the duchess now, and I truly believe a ball could help Lucy instead of stunting her social growth. If she continues on this path, I fear I can never see her finding a lucrative match to keep her happy and safe.”

“Your Grace.”

She eyed the governess. “And with Miss Ayles, I can’t imagine her getting far at all.”

Ms. Crawford pressed her lips together. “I only pray you don’t do anything too rash, Your Grace. Nothing the duke might consider awfully rude.”

Alicia turned back toward the table, hands held defiantly at her sides. “Ms. Crawford,” she commanded, “we will begin to plan a ball for the end of the season.”

“But—”

“We already discussed labor and cost, but I wish to send a letter to Lady Tollock. Heaven knows she is better equipped than I am in such matters.”

Ms. Crawford scoffed, taken aback. “Your Grace, if you would allow me to offer some advice.”

Alicia crossed her arms over her chest. “If you insist upon it.”

“I applaud you for taking action as the duchess,” she began. “It is encouraging to see you step into your role with comfort and ease. It is even better so that you want to have a role in Lucy’s debut. But I would take heed in the fact that the duke has firmly said no to this venture.”

“I understand, Ms. Crawford.”

“I do not wish to tell you to have patience,” the housekeeper continued, “for I know you have heard it plenty enough already, but you are not from here.”

Alicia sighed, the words resting heavily on her chest. “I know that.”

“You do not know the memories that walk these halls.”

They met each other’s gaze.

“What do you mean by that?” Alicia quickly asked before the housekeeper could change the subject.

“Every home has its own life,” she said. “You do not know it, and you need to respect that. Despite the… quick nature of your marriage, no one from Garvey has pried into your previous life.”

Alicia sat back down at the table. “I’m doing something that would benefit Lucy,” she told her. “Maybe it could benefit us all.”

“Without the duke’s involvement?”

“If he wishes to build this divide between us, then so be it. There is no need for any of this animosity, but he wishes it so. He wanted a tolerant marriage but leaves at every chance he can get. How am I to blame when he is the one who backs me into this corner?” Alicia gathered blank paper and a quill, not meeting the disapproving gaze of the housekeeper. “I will write to Lady Tollock for advice that I’m sure she will be more than willing to provide.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

Alicia wrote in silence as she felt the housekeeper’s eyes glued on her. The disapproval was apparent, but she refused to let it bring her down. “Talk with Mr. Livingston about arrangements for the ball,” she demanded. “I will instruct Miss Ayles to have new dresses tailored, and hopefully, I can visit my family beforehand to gather advice as well.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“And if the duke asks,” Alicia began, finally meeting Ms. Crawford’s steady gaze, “send him to me.”

Ms. Crawford let a smirk pull up the corner of her lips. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As Alicia finished writing her letter, she had a tug of hope burrowing itself within her chest. Despite directly disobeying her husband’s wishes, something told her that this was the right way to go.

When afternoon came along, and Miss Ayles brought Lucy inside for a break from her studies, Alicia quickly followed. Ms. Crawford quickly turned sour after their talk, not offering much help at all toward planning a ball, insisting that the meal list be delivered before anything else.

In one of the larger drawing rooms, with a large pianoforte in a far back corner, surrounded by shelves and sculptures, a small round table was decorated with teas and cakes. Alicia sat beside the table, sipping from a cup while Lucy spun around the room.

“Lady Lucy,” the governess called out in a stern voice from her spot across Alicia. She rested a slender hand against her forehead, rubbing her temples. “Your spinning is making my head rock. Drink your tea.”

Alicia lowered her cup. “How long have you been a governess, Miss Ayles?”

“Well,” she looked up with a look of surprise, “since I could.”

“And why is that?”

Miss Ayles met the duchess’s gaze, and something unspoken took over her. She pressed her lips together, and her eyes narrowed. “My family wished it so,” she said, speaking as though she were forced.

“Responsibility,” Alicia muttered.

The governess scowled and looked away.

Lucy spun till she wobbled, falling into the sofa beside Alicia. “Have you ever danced, Alicia?”

“Of course,” she replied with a light laugh. “I was taught right around your age.”

“Did your father teach you?”

Alicia smiled sadly, holding back the pit that formed in her stomach. “Yes,” she whispered. “He let me stand on his feet as he spun me around. Even when I was old enough to know the steps myself, he insisted on it.”

Lucy pouted as she rested her chin against her palm. “I fear I’m too old now to even learn before my debut.”

“Goodness, no,” Alicia said. “You’re only fourteen!”

“In three years I’ll be expected to be polished and perfect,” Lucy whined. “And all I do is learn Latin and talk about books. What good will that be?”

Miss Ayles huffed from her seat.

Suddenly, alit with excitement, Alicia stood from her seat. “Miss Ayles,” she called out, “am I correct in assuming you are well-versed in the pianoforte?”

“Don’t insult me,” she said with a scoff. “I am highly proficient.”

“Won’t you play us something?”

“Like what,” Miss Ayles snapped, “a silly country line dance?”

Alicia shrugged. “Haven’t you heard of the waltz?”

The governess gaped at her. “I will not play a waltz for a young unmarried lady. She won’t dance to that at balls!”

Lucy tilted her head. “Why not?”

“It’s considered lucrative,” Alicia said with a laugh, “for its unexpected closeness. The country dance just won’t do with only two of us.”

“Let us waltz!” Lucy shouted, jumping from the sofa. “Oh, please, Miss Ayles. Play us a waltz!”

The governess eyed her student, giving the duchess a glare, before she sighed and walked to the pianoforte. Alicia grinned, grasping Lucy’s hand and pulling her into the middle of the room. A series of giggles erupted from the young lady, even when she tried to keep a straight face.

Miss Ayles inhaled deeply and let her fingers run amok over the keys. Music filled the air, and Alicia grasped onto Lucy, trying to remember how a man led the waltz.

Lucy squealed over the music. “Are you supposed to step on my feet?”

“I’ve never led before!” Alicia shouted and laughed.

They twirled and bent, Alicia holding Lucy around the waist and swinging her round the room. Lucy held onto the duchess’s hand, but barely paid attention, only jumped and clamored and shouted. As Miss Ayles played on, the girls bumped together at a turn, and tumbled to the floor.

“Oh, good Lord,” the governess grumbled as she stopped playing. “Look at you two, dancing as if all you had were left feet!”

Her rants could barely be heard over the laughter that ensued. Lucy was lying flat on her back and crying. Alicia sat up, rubbing a sore spot on her elbow as her laughter drifted off. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement blur by the door, steps fading into the hallway.

“Your Grace!” Alicia shouted, stumbling to her feet and lifting her skirts. She ran to the hall as the dark clothes Matthew wore became a blur in the shadows. “Your Grace,” she said, calling out to him.

The duke stopped at the end of the hall. He turned, giving her a short bow. “Your Grace,” he said. “I was just?—”

“Join us,” she interrupted, breathless and sweating.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

Alicia extended a hand. “We were trying to teach Lucy how to waltz,” she said with a laugh, “but as it turns out, I don’t lead very well.”

Matthew stared at her silently, a look of dismay on his face.

“Are you truly too busy to spend a few moments with us?”

“I— he stopped himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. “If you insist,” he finally said with a curt nod of his head.

Alicia clapped her hands together, elated and surprised at him. “Lucy,” she called out as she reentered the room, “I found you a better dance partner.”

The duke entered slowly behind her, unbuttoning his jacket before draping it across a chair. “It has been some time since I’ve waltzed,” he said, rolling his cream-colored sleeves up to his elbows. “Forgive me if I’m not as skilled as you expect.”

A grin engulfed Lucy’s face. “You’ll dance with me, Matthew?”

“Yes, Lucy,” he said softly, taking her hand. “As long as you promise to pay attention.”

She giggled. “I promise!”

With a nod to the governess at the pianoforte, Matthew wrapped an arm around his sister, and they floated along to the music. When he spoke, it was quiet and gentle, low enough for only Lucy to hear. She would nod and sway, following his steps but never leaving his gaze.

Alicia stood back, hands pressed together as she watched in amazement.

“You’re a natural,” Matthew said loudly to be carried over the music.

Lucy’s smile widened. “You’re a good teacher!”

As the music ended, Matthew spun his sister around, and the look of ease that overtook him brought an airy feeling to Alicia’s chest.

The pair bowed to each other.

Lucy clapped, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Now,” Alicia said, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I think you need a little practice, Alicia,” Lucy teased, hands behind her back. There was a playful glint in her eyes. “Have you ever danced together before?”

Alicia gulped and glanced in the duke’s direction. “Well, no,” she replied with an embarrassed laugh, “but the circumstances?—”

“The circumstances prevented it,” Matthew interrupted. He avoided meeting her gaze.

“There aren’t any silly circumstances now,” Lucy said. “Have a dance!”

Alicia laughed nervously. “Don’t be silly, Lucy.”

“How is that silly?”

Matthew cleared his throat. “I was actually on my way to… ”

“To what?” Lucy snapped. “Boring duke things?”

He pressed his lips together, but remained silent.

Lucy held her hands up in a pleading way. “Please,” she begged. “I want to see a real dance.”

Alicia stepped forward. “If the duke does not?—”

“Fine,” Matthew interrupted again.

Shooting a look over at him, Alicia gaped, her heart pounding. “Your Grace.”

Matthew extended his hand. “Your Grace.”

The silence that overtook the room was one unlike before, one that was not bred from unease or anger. The seriousness in the duke’s gaze brought a heat to Alicia’s face, a blush that crawled up her neck and chin. She swallowed and surprised herself as she took his hand.

Miss Ayles, her lips parted in shock, slowly turned back to the pianoforte, her eyebrows bunched together in a furrow as she began to play the waltz.

Matthew pulled Alicia gently till she was closer to him, placing a firm hand on the small of her back while the other gripped her palm. She lifted her skirts on one side as he began to lead her around the room, her feet just gliding across the floor. And while Alicia had never considered herself to be a good dancer, none of it seemed to matter. Matthew led the way, and for the first time since their wedding, she felt as though she could trust his path, trust the strength that lay within his arms.

The music filled the room, and the world faded, leaving only them. Alicia’s head angled upwards towards the duke, her lips parting as she breathed unsteadily. He met her gaze, her dark eyes filled with a fiery intensity as he looked down at her.

At first, Matthew seemed to try and read her, his eyes traveling around her face inquisitively. But then his guard began to lower; his shoulders losing the tense arch they normally held. He licked his lips, and looked her in the face once more.

Alicia let herself smile at him, trying to give him the impression that everything was well. Not that he would be afraid, but rather that she was afraid of the moment ending and it all returning to what it had been. She did not want his ease to leave.

The duke tightened his grip around her waist, almost pulling her closer into his chest. Alicia trembled, her breath hitching in her throat at the tight embrace. She stared at his chest for a moment, unable to bring herself to lift her chin and see where his heavy gaze landed. But there was a curiosity, a need to know if he had the same intensity brewing within him as she did at his touch.

Alicia lifted her gaze, and Matthew flicked his eyes to her lips, his gaze lingering there for a moment longer than she anticipated. Warmth flooded her system, a burning blush climbing up her neck and chin.

They spun once more, and Alicia imagined there was not even a floor below them, but rather the sky, and they danced on nothing but air. Nothing else mattered, no anger or fear from before. Alicia even believed it would be like this for the rest of time until the music came to a stop.

The duke did not let go at first, even in the silence of the room. She could only hear their breathing, heavy and aligned, both of their chests rising and falling.

Licking her lips, Alicia never broke her stare, not wanting to go back to before. “I—” she tried, but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to keep them there like that.

Matthew blinked fervently, his chest rising and falling with parted lips. He still searched her eyes, as though he looked for something there, but had yet to find it. “Your Grace,” he breathed, voice hoarse and ragged.

Suddenly, he swallowed, and hurriedly cleared his throat. Removing himself from the waltz position, Matthew rubbed his hands against his sides as if to get the feeling of her hands off him. “Your Grace,” he repeated, more coldly this time. Matthew dipped down into a bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

And just like that, the duke stormed to the door, snagging his coat up along the way.

Alicia stood there, staring at the spot where he once was, arms extended as though his phantom were still in front of her. She huffed, the embarrassment riding up her throat like a sickness.

“Alicia,” Lucy quietly said, testing the waters. “Are you all right?”

The shame threatened to swallow her up. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’m fine.”

“You look…”

Alicia’s head snapped over to the girl. “I look what? Embarrassed? Rejected?”

Lucy frowned, taking a step back. “Sad. I was going to say sad.”

“I—” Alicia breathed, reaching for her. She stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm the emotion that crawled up her neck. “I’m sorry, Lucy.” She began to storm toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to the duke,” Alicia replied.

Marching out of the drawing room, Alicia held up her skirts and sped through the halls, now familiar with which paths to take. She passed a window in the hall that overlooked the back of the estate, and caught a glimpse of Matthew’s tall figure hunched and approaching the garden. She picked up her pace.

As Alicia exited the estate, with the sun slowly setting on the horizon, she clenched her fists, collecting the courage she needed to finally confront the duke.