Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

A chill overtook the air that early evening, one that even sent Renfield into his garden shed for warmth. Alicia wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to stop the chill from sending shivers down her spine. She didn’t bother to lift her skirts, letting the earth stain them brown with dust and dirt.

Matthew barreled through the garden gate a moment before her, disappearing behind the tall bushes and blossoming garden beds. She quickly followed, not letting the anger flicker or diminish.

Turning a corner, Alicia almost ran into his chest, as he stood there, poised and stoic, staring down at her with a heavy disapproval.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he grumbled.

Alicia frowned at him. “I think I deserve an explanation.”

“What on earth for?”

She gaped in disbelief. “For your rudeness back in the drawing room,” she said. “For how you left!”

“You pulled me in there, not even bothering to ask what I was on my way to do.”

Alicia let out a humorless laugh. “So you were on your way to the gardens?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Were you on your way to the gardens when I stopped you?”

Matthew stared at her, his lips pressed together as if to keep himself from speaking.

“I would love to know what terribly important business awaited you in between the flower beds,” she said sarcastically.

“My business is none of your concern,” he snapped.

“Right,” she said, “because I am just the duchess.”

Matthew scowled at her. “Why are you so angry?”

“Why?” she repeated, aghast. “You’re rude. You’re intolerable. You act as though you care for your sister, your family, but then ignore her and turn her away from you the next second.”

“Do not speak as if you know everything within these halls.”

“I do not!” Alicia shouted, unable to keep herself calm anymore. “I do not act as if I know, because I know I do not. Don’t you see? You have built this wall that separates me from all of Garvey.”

“If there is a wall,” he leaned down closer to her, an angry sneer pulling at his lips, “it is because you gave me reason to put it there.”

“I—” she stopped, and took a step back. “Please don’t tell me you’re referring to the library once more. After all this time.”

“I will always remember that night, ” he growled. “I will always remember the moment a woman desperate for a savior caught me and bound me to her with shackles.”

“Shackles?” Alicia repeated. “You leave whenever you please! You abandon your sister and go to do God knows what without any explanation!”

“Stop talking about Lucy as if you know anything!”

“I know she is sad when you leave,” Alicia said. “I know how her face falls every time you decide to walk away.”

Matthew swatted his hand at her, turning to walk away further into the cold garden.

She called out after him. “I know how disappointed she is that her brother abandons her like a bastard abandoned on a doorstep!”

The duke froze.

Alicia paused, a fear striking deep within her chest. She stared at his back, watched as his fists tightened at either side of him.

“Your Grace,” she said with a shaking voice, “I’m sorry, it was just a foolish insult. I stepped too far.”

“Yes,” he growled, “you did.”

Alicia swallowed. “Why can’t you trust me?”

“ Trust you?”

“Please, Your Grace, just?—”

Matthew slowly turned on his heel till he faced her. “Why can’t I trust you?”

“Your Grace,” she said, sternly, as if to scold a child.

“Your family has forced me into a union that I did not seek,” Matthew began, his voice tense and short. “You have already gone behind my back when I gave you clear instruction on what I would not have in the halls of Garvey.”

“You don’t understand.”

Matthew walked closer to her. “You have ridiculed my hiring techniques, pried into my business when it is not your place, even tried to act as if you were always meant to be in these halls.” The duke was now directly before her, head bent down to meet her gaze. “And you expect me to trust you? To tell you every secret I have within, to tell you all that has transpired here?”

“I do not expect anything,” she whispered.

“That is a lie,” he snapped.

“It is not!”

Matthew pointed toward the estate. “You expect to be welcomed with open arms, to become a Garvey without a second thought.”

“A union means accepting someone into your family,” she shouted back at him.

“This was not a union of choice!”

“I did not ask for you either!” Alicia said, breathlessly. “I did not ask for Garvey!”

“Well,” he said with a sneer, “it’s what you caught.”

“You will have me forever be a stranger in these halls,” she said, “as a punishment?”

“Take it as you would.”

“I am a good person, and a good wife, who deserves better.”

Matthew crossed his arms, looking down at her with a hateful intensity. “So that’s what this is about?”

“What?”

“You followed me out to the gardens,” he explained, “to convince me that you’re a good wife who deserves better?”

Alicia shook her head. “Do not twist my intentions, Your Grace. I am here because someone needs to stand up for your sister.”

“Stop speaking of things that will never concern you,” he said. “Lucy will never concern you.”

“How can she not be of concern to me?” She asked, taken aback. “Is it not my responsibility to see her off to a successful debut as the lady of this house?”

He scoffed. “Miss Ayles is doing just fine.”

“That governess,” she breathed through clenched teeth, “is doing more harm than good.”

“What could you possibly know? You’ve barely been here!”

“You’re right,” she said. “I’ve barely been here, and yet I have seen more than you. I have seen Lucy struggle between freedom and duty. I watch her want to fly, but be kept only on land. That governess does not teach her anything about life, about where she will go from here. She does not teach her of propriety. She drones of Latin, gives her more and more books to read. What will become of Lucy in three years' time, when it is her chance to break free of the chains you have wrapped around her wrists?”

Matthew stared at her. “What chains have I put upon her?”

“You punish her,” she whispered.

The duke remained silent, looking away.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she breathed. “You punish her by not loving her. You punish yourself by not loving her. But you can’t help it, can you? She is beautiful, she is kind, she is lovely. Your Grace,” she paused, inching toward him, “you are teaching her that love is withdrawn. You are showing her that holding in your happiness, your true feelings, is more important that being content.”

“You know nothing,” he spat quietly.

Alicia tried to reach for him, but stopped herself. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It is not your place,” he said.

“I am the duchess,” she said in a demanding voice. “I am your wife!”

Matthew surged up to her, their faces only inches apart. “You are a stranger ! You know nothing! You seek something that is not yours; you come here and demand a place in my life, burrowing yourself in my thoughts like you belong there!” He waved a hand at the manor. “Like you belong here. You do not and you will never. No matter how easy you seek to make this arrangement out to be.”

They stood only a hair’s breadth apart now, both breathing heavily and angrily.

The duke exhaled, and pulled himself away from her. “As your husband, and as your duke,” he began, his voice cold and steady, “you will listen to me. You will stay out of things you will never understand.” He pointed a finger at her. “Do you understand?”

Alicia let her gaze drift to his lips. “Tell me,” she said, breathlessly, “do you think about me when I’m not there?”

Matthew inhaled sharply, lips parted. “What?”

“Is this truly just an arrangement to you?”

The duke began to shake his head. Whether it was from confusion or an answer to her question, Alicia could not tell. His gaze flickered down to her lips, watching as her breath came out in little bursts. He tilted his head, lowering himself closer to her raised face for just a moment, just a split second, before he snapped his stare back to her own.

Matthew pulled back. “Do you understand?” he repeated through clenched teeth.

“Yes,” she muttered, a smug smirk pulling back her lip, “Your Grace .”

He straightened his coat, looking over her shaking figure. “Go inside,” he commanded, before marching past her, disappearing into the approaching evening.

Alicia stood there in the garden, hugging herself and trying to still the tremors that had overtaken her.

Never in Matthew’s life had he wanted to go to a gentlemen’s club. While they were all the rage in London, especially during the summer season, Matthew saw no pleasure in spending money on a flimsy bar and a game of cards. Nevertheless, he stormed around Garvey Manor till he reached the front, where a solitary footman crossed the courtyard unknowingly passing by the duke.

“You there,” Matthew called out.

The footman froze. “Your Grace!” He bowed deeply. “Is there something you need?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Fetch the carriage.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the footman replied before running off in the other direction.

Matthew stood on the front steps of Garvey and tried not to let the cold nip at him. Even though he certainly was not appropriately dressed for a trip to London, there was no part of him that even wanted to set foot within the manor. At any point, his wife or his sister, or even the governess, could back him into a corner. He shuddered.

“Your Grace.”

Matthew turned to see Mr. Livingston hobbling down the front stairs, a top hat, gloves, and coat in his hands. Matthew sighed. “How could you have possibly known I was out here?”

The butler shrugged. “Garvey is quite full of windows, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Mr. Livingston,” he said, equipping himself with the attire he needed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“If I could be so bold, Your Grace, and ask what it is you’re doing?”

“I’m waiting for the carriage.”

“Right,” the butler said. “To go where?”

Matthew eyed him. “I thought I’d visit Lew’s and Crake’s.”

Mr. Livingston raised his eyebrows. “Really,” he drawled, “you are going to a club?”

“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“Oh,” he said, “it isn’t.”

Matthew gave him a look.

The butler cleared his throat. “You’ve always been rather adamant on your disapproval of gentlemen’s clubs, Your Grace. And if I remember correctly, Lew’s and Crake’s is the most popular one in London these days. It’ll be quite busy by this hour.”

Matthew sighed deeply. “I’m well aware, Mr. Livingston.”

“Well, then by all means, Your Grace, enjoy the evening out.”

Matthew gave him a curt nod. “Thank you.”

“Unless,” Mr. Livingston paused, “there is something you’d like to discuss.”

“Why would you say that?”

“No reason, Your Grace.”

Matthew turned to face the butler. “Please, don’t make me call you a liar and yell and shout, Mr. Livingston. I’m too tired to be any angrier this evening.”

“So, you did get into an argument with the duchess?”

“How could you have known?”

Mr. Livingston shrugged. “Poor Renfield locked himself up in the garden shed till he heard you storm off. That chap’s a real gossip.”

Matthew allowed himself a chuckle as the footman brought the carriage up to the stairs. “I don’t plan on discussing my marital affairs with you, Mr. Livingston,” he said while walking down.

“I had no doubt,” the butler called after him.

The duke climbed into the carriage, and watched Mr. Livingston wait at the stairs till he disappeared round the corner. He breathed a sigh once alone, staring out of the window and waiting for the dread to leave his chest.

Lew’s and Crake’s was exactly what Matthew expected it to be. The maroon painted building led into a wide room with stairs and levels, where aristocratic men gambled savings away and drank their burning drinks. Most gentlemen he came in contact with through business and social gatherings were there that evening, all of whom recognized him within a second.

Matthew steered clear of some, especially those who had sent him letters and were still awaiting a reply. Upon one of the levels, behind the gambling tables and across the room from the bar, there was a solitary round table that did not yet house anyone. Matthew skirted by the crowd, requested a brandy from the barman, and took his seat behind the ruckus.

Instead of the barman delivering the drink, it was a familiar face who sauntered up to him.

“Your Grace!”

Matthew stood, his lips pressed together as he recognized the gentlemen. “Lord Danvers,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “Good evening to you.”

The baron set down the duke’s drink in front of him, taking his own seat at the table. “How peculiar is it that I see you here,” Lord Danvers said. “First Lady Tollock’s ball, and now here? You’re becoming quite the socialite, aren’t you?”

Matthew bristled at the man’s ease. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What brings you out, then?”

“A moment away,” he muttered.

Lord Danvers laughed loudly. “Is it the married life, Your Grace? Not all we thought it to be, right?”

“Are you married, Danvers?”

“Heavens, no,” he replied with a huff. “Been on the hunt for two years now.”

“Only two years?”

Lord Danvers took a swig of his drink. “Never really fancied the idea of being tied down to a stiff woman who only followed the voice of her mama. And the bachelor life had been treating me quite well.”

“Until?”

He sighed. “Until my money took a dip. Now it’s time to secure a wealthy bride, one whose dowry will put my family at ease.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Matthew said.

“Right,” Lord Danvers mused. “Wasn’t hard at all for you, now was it?”

The duke eyed the man.

“Don’t get me wrong,” the baron continued. “I try not to listen to the rumbles of the ton too much. You know most of the gossip is just rumors meant to rile up the marriage pool. There was quite a chatter after Lady Tollock’s first ball of the Season, though.”

“What kind of chatter?”

“That of your impending marriage, Your Grace,” he replied. “Well, of course, it isn’t impending anymore.” The baron gave him a toothy smile. “How are the nuptials treating you?”

Matthew sighed. “As well as they treat any man, I suppose.”

“The Caneys have always been a kind family,” Lord Danvers went on. “My father did quite a bit of business with the late marquess before it took a turn.”

“Was there a failed business venture?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked.

Matthew shrugged.

Lord Danvers bent closer to him as though someone might overhear them. “The late Lord Egerton was involved with some sketchy fellows, as the story goes. One failed investment, and all the funds collected from a few well-known families were off in some swindler’s pocket. There was no way for any of them to trust the marquess again, so they pulled their funds out of his business.”

The baron took another drink before he continued. “Suppose that was why their debutante didn’t enter society till a bit late.”

“You mean my wife,” Matthew said.

“Oh,” he said, holding his hands up defensively. “I meant no insult, Your Grace.”

“None taken.”

“The Egerton name was disgraced for a year or two, but then the late marquess passed on, and not even his eldest son was seen in the ton,” the baron explained. “This Season was the perfect time for them to reenter society. Most are past what happened, or too well-off to care what burdened their finances before.” He eyed the duke. “She’s a beautiful bride.”

Matthew nodded and stared down at his brandy. “Quite a nosy one, too.”

The baron had a laugh before he flagged down the barman for another drink.

“Have you had any luck looking for marriage, Danvers?”

“I wish I could say I had,” the baron replied. “It’s quite hard these days to find a well-rounded lady. One who is skilled in an instrument, as well as literature. One who is not a bore, but nothing exciting.”

“Quite the qualifications you have.”

“Well, it’s needed,” Lord Danvers said with a laugh. “Tell me, Your Grace, what was it about your bride that sent you running to Lew’s and Crake’s?”

Matthew stiffened. “I never said I came here to run away.”

“We gentlemen understand each other, Your Grace,” he said. “Look around. Most of the men here tonight are already wed, just needing to get away from their estate. Whether it’s the children or the wife, they are all here for the same reason.”

The duke looked over the boisterous crowd of aristocratic men and bristled. Never had he expected to group himself with them, with men who were much like his father. He pushed his empty glass away, feeling a pit in his stomach.

“So, what was it?” the baron pressed on. “Did she get too far into your business? Care too much about where your time went?”

Matthew tried to hide his surprise. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Isn’t it? Ladies want to be as wrapped up in your world as possible.”

He thought of Lucy and sighed. “I suppose that isn’t too bad in some cases.”

“Really?”

Matthew shrugged.

“You’ve surprised me, Your Grace,” Danvers said with his eyebrows raised. “More of a gentleman than I assumed.”

As the baron stood to retrieve another drink, Matthew gathered his hat and gloves.

“Leaving already?” Lord Danvers asked when he returned to a standing Matthew.

“Busy day tomorrow,” he shortly replied with a bow. “But it was a pleasure, as always.”

“You must come back soon, Your Grace,” the baron pleaded. “It’s great business to see you here.”

Matthew raised a brow. “Let me guess. You’re a sponsor for this club.”

Throwing him a wink, the baron called out, “there’s always money to be earned, Your Grace!”

The duke tipped his hat at him and slipped out of Lew’s and Crake’s, skating by anyone else who might feel the need to speak with him. As he rode the carriage back to Garvey Manor, Matthew imagined living a life like the baron’s, and could only feel pity. Despite how it looked with Alicia, he found it better than anything else he could have been tricked into.