Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

T he late duke’s steely stare bore into Matthew’s very soul. Above the mantel in his study, his father’s portrait looked down upon him with disdain. Matthew woke early that morning, an echo in his chest that yearned for him to get to his study as soon as possible, to look his father in the eye.

All he wanted was to get to the dining room as soon as possible, to have a minute or two alone with Alicia before anyone else arrived. Matthew closed his eyes and imagined her face looking up at him, those sterling green eyes looking at him with such an intensity he felt as though he might catch aflame.

But then there was this, a heaviness on his heart that threatened to ruin every good thing he had managed to accomplish. The one thing that stood in his way was his father.

“Always,” he muttered to himself. “It was always you.”

The portrait watched silently.

“You will not ruin this for me. Not this time, father.”

Matthew reached, gripping the mantelpiece as his heart thumped wildly. As if he were once again a boy of thirteen, he feared the late duke stood behind him in the flesh, waiting with a violent hand raised to strike. Matthew breathed deeply.

“You cannot harm me,” he whispered.

Raising his gaze once more toward the portrait, he could have sworn that the man’s eyes flickered down to him, a disgusting frown twitching across the late duke’s thin lips.

Matthew ground his teeth together before pushing himself upright, straightening the coat he wore. “Today,” he said, “I will be the man I have always wanted to be.”

Fool, the portrait seemed to say. Weak-hearted fool.

“Perhaps,” Matthew muttered. “But I am not weak.”

Love will ruin you. It makes you weak.

“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “She makes me strong.”

Matthew did not meet his father’s eyes again. He spun around, leaving the ghost of his father there. And he knew that when he returned, there would no longer be a demon of his past there to haunt him.

He left the study, shutting the door behind him. As he looked over the hall, a smile found its way onto his lips, much to his surprise. There was something to look forward to; there was someone waiting for him.

Matthew let his smile widen.

Alicia waited for him.

Entering the dining room with higher hopes than he expected, Matthew saw only the governess poised at the table, sipping leisurely from a blue teacup. His eyes narrowed as he passed through the threshold. A few fragments of broken ceramic lined the floor, scattering droplets of tea accompanying them.

“Good morning, Miss Ayles,” he finally said.

Her head shot up, surprise laced in her wide eyes. “Your Grace,” she replied while bowing her head lightly. “Could I pour you a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you, Miss Ayles,” he said. “Have you seen Her Grace yet?”

She frowned. “For just a moment, Your Grace.”

“Only a moment?”

“Well, she was in quite a hurry.”

Matthew tilted his head as he crossed the room, pulling back the curtain to peer out of the window. “What for?”

“I couldn’t say, Your Grace.”

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Matthew raised a suspicious brow. “I do not appreciate your side-stepping, Miss Ayles.”

“It is anything but, Your Grace.”

Matthew stood directly behind her seat, seeing a piece of paper folded and slightly hidden beneath her palm. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”

“I only wish to shield you,” the governess said, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes. The maroon dress she wore shone unpleasantly against her face, as though her skin was hot to the touch.

“Patronizing me won’t help you.”

“Do you see me in such a villainous light, Your Grace, to believe I’d trick you with my words?”

Matthew pulled the seat out beside her, gently taking a seat. “Miss Ayles,” he began, “do not give me reason to regard you in a villainous way. I will say, my patience wears thin. If something has happened that you are not telling me, I will uncover it one way or another, and you will not appreciate me if it comes to that.”

The governess watched him silently. Her lip perked up in a smug smirk. “If you so wish, Your Grace,” she said with an exasperated sigh. Pulling the folded up paper from her lap, Miss Ayles set it down on the table. “Go right ahead.”

Matthew eagerly snatched it up, removing himself from the table at once. As if she could read it over his shoulder, Matthew retreated to the window, unfolding the letter and examining it underneath the quiet sunlight.

“Matthew, it is with a burdened heart that I must leave Garvey. Despite it all, I cannot accept a fraudulent marriage to be my future. I would rather carry the shame of a tainted virtue with me for the rest of my life than allow myself to be your duchess. I will be long gone by the time you read this — take it as a blessing.

With regards, Alicia.”

As though the sun reflected him, a series of dark clouds cascaded across the land, dimming the sun on that quiet morning. Matthew reread the letter. He read it a third and a fourth time. The words echoed throughout his head as though his duchess had spoken them, her voice so much crueler than he remembered.

Cruel? He thought to himself. When has she ever been cruel?

“This…” Matthew began, his voice trailing off as he lacked the words to say.

Footsteps echoed through the small room.

“It is venomous, Your Grace,” Miss Ayles said, sounding a lot closer than he thought she was.

Lowering the note, Matthew gazed out the window as Renfield trimmed a series of bushes. “Perhaps,” he whispered, remembering the stare his father’s portrait judged him with, “I was too late.”

“Your Grace?” the governess questioned, unable to hear him.

“Perhaps there was no patience left to give.”

Miss Ayles appeared at his side. “What were you saying?”

Matthew stared at the letter again. Tainted virtue. His head shot up. “Penelope,” he whispered.

“Her Grace’s sister?”

“I cannot allow this to transpire,” he said, a fervent rush in his voice that he hadn’t expected. “If this is true, she would ruin her family, and I cannot allow that.”

Miss Ayles scoffed. “ If it is true?”

“This letter doesn’t sound like the duchess at all, Miss Ayles.”

“They are her words, Your Grace.”

“Then I will have her repeat them to my face,” he snapped, suddenly aware of how close the governess was standing beside him.

She shook her head. “I do not see that to be wise, Your Grace. She knew very well what she felt.”

“Do you understand what this letter means?”

The governess tilted her head innocently at him. “She does not love you.”

Something stung deep within him. “No, Miss Ayles,” he said with a grimace. “It means Her Grace is in a sorrow deep enough to disregard her family’s well-being, as well as her own.” Matthew held the letter up, glancing over its words again before crunching it within his fist. He met the governess’s eyes with a glare. “And I will not let her do such a thing alone.”

“You are too kind, Your Grace,” Miss Ayles said sweetly.

Matthew stared at the crumpled piece of paper. “I am not kind,” he muttered angrily.

“Do not let Her Grace’s words taint you so,” she continued, standing just beside him. Miss Ayles crept closer silently, till she stood directly in front of him, staring up to meet his stare. “She has given you an escape, Your Grace. It has been the only graceful thing she has done since coming to Garvey.”

He avoided her poignant stare. “You are mistaken.”

The governess tilted her head, practically blocking his sight of the letter. A smile slipped its way across her ruby-red lips when she finally grasped his attention. “No, Your Grace,” she whispered. “You have only been swayed by the duchess’s spell.”

“What?”

“Was it not you who accused her of tricking you into a marriage?”

“That was long ago.”

“Who's to say you were wrong?” Miss Ayles asked, still smiling. “I find it curious that one act of selflessness has you wooed, despite how it all began. Don’t you, Your Grace?”

Matthew took a step back. “I find your lack of proper decorum to be curious, Miss Ayles.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said. “I only felt that you had been robbed of something as precious as matrimony, and today was the proof of it.” She took a few steps to close the gap between them. “I have been here for Lady Lucy, Your Grace. I have been here on the days when you are weighed down by the duties placed upon you as the duke. I know how to help you.”

“I doubt that you do.”

“Do not underestimate me, Your Grace,” she confidently stated. “You could only imagine the wonders I could do… given a change in position.”

“Miss Ayles,” Matthew said, unable to hide the shock, “are you suggesting that Her Grace is not adequately fulfilling her duties as my duchess?”

The governess twisted her arms innocently behind her back, gazing up at him through lowered eyelids. “I can suggest that,” she whispered, “if it pleases you.”

Matthew felt his eyes go wide. “Stop this, Miss Ayles, before my surprise becomes aggravation!”

“I’m on your side, Your Grace,” she said softly.

As his stomach twisted with disgust, Matthew tightened his jaw and began to cross the room to the door. “I’m going to go after the duchess,” he snarled. “And when I come back, we will discuss your future here at Garvey!”

Matthew reached for the door, but it snapped shut in a whirlwind. Suddenly, the governess stood in his way, her arms extended on either side of her. She thoroughly blocked the only exit with a confident composure that struck an impatient nerve within him.

“Out of my way,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I know what is best for you,” Miss Ayles hissed. “I do, not her!”

“I have no patience left to give you, Miss Ayles!”

The governess glanced around frantically for a moment before locking her gaze onto him once more, an accomplished smirk crawling onto her lips. “Alicia is long gone,” she snapped. “She left long before you even arrived here! Any chase would be futile!”

“You dare call her anything but Her Grace?”

“Look around,” she shouted, “I don’t see any duchess here! I don’t see a duchess when that girl is here either!”

Matthew stepped threateningly closer to her. “Do you wish to see yourself ruined?”

“Not more ruined than I already am, Your Grace,” she replied, not seeming afraid of his looming presence one bit. “Look me in the eyes and convince me that she is your rightful duchess, Your Grace. Take back everything from the past few weeks, just with a few words.” Miss Ayles barely gave him a second before she added, “I bet you couldn’t.”

“Do not act as if you know anything about the duchess and me,” he barked, holding his arms down so as to fight the tempting urge to throw the governess out of his way.

Miss Ayles watched him intensely for a moment, before something flashed across her face. She let her posture change, her shoulders drooping and her bosom more pronounced. Slowly, she stepped closer to him even as he retreated, her lips slightly parted in a breathless way.

“Your Grace,” she cooed. “Perhaps I don’t know as much as I think about your relations with the duchess, I can give you that. But, I know more than you think.”

“I doubt it.”

“I know you .”

Matthew grimaced. “You are making a fool out of yourself, Miss Ayles.”

“Am I?” she asked. “Or are you afraid I might prove you wrong?”

He glared silently at her.

The governess slunk closer to him, her movements snake-like and slithering. She came upon him with lust written on her face, in the way she lowered her eyes and swayed as she walked.

“At your very core,” Miss Ayles said, her voice barely above a whisper, “you are only a man, and like all men, there is only one thing that you truly want.”

“Enlighten me, Miss Ayles,” Matthew spoke through clenched teeth, his fists bunched together at his sides as she moved closer and closer to him.

She came upon him with a hand on her hip. “A woman,” she plainly said. “But not just any woman. You want beauty and grace. You crave a warmer bed that won’t beg to interfere in the going-ons of your duties as a duke. You yearn for an ease that might take your mind off everything else in Garvey.”

Miss Ayles stood directly in front of him; his back pressed against the wall. Slowly, with an uncanny bravery, the governess reached up, placing her hands gently against his shoulders, fingertips just lightly gripping. Standing up on her toes, she licked her lips, her breath almost fanning against his chin.

“Do you honestly think she can provide that?”

Matthew went still as his chest heaved up and down in anger.

“Alicia can’t give you any of it,” Miss Ayles snapped, her voice rising. “She has failed to be your duchess — even the blind could see it! The Caney girl is not enough for you. She will never be!”

Unable to hold himself back, Matthew’s hands shot out, snatching onto Miss Ayles's bare forearms. He gripped onto her cold skin, pressing his fingers harshly into her. She winced against him, her eyes suddenly wide and mouth gaping. Matthew loomed over her, watching as she shrank in fear beneath him.

“Y–Your Grace—” she began in a small voice.

“You’ve had your chance to speak, Miss Ayles,” Matthew growled, his voice hoarse and deep. “Now it is my turn. Once, I had a respect for you as a person who wanted to rectify their family name. It was why I so gladly hired you. Despite everything the ton had to say about the sniveling accountant meant to balance our business’s funds, I took pity on his begging daughter.”

Keeping his tight hold on her, Matthew pulled her closer. “And this is how you repay me? Spouting nonsense about how you are meant to be the Duchess of Garvey?”

“Please, Your Grace?—”

“Now you find the propriety you were raised with to address me politely? After you so carelessly spoke of the duchess as though she were your familiar?”

Tears gathered in the governess’s eyes.

Matthew’s nostrils flared in disgust at the sight of her. He released his hold, practically dropping her into one of the dining table chairs. She collapsed against it, sniffing and swiping a delicate hand below her eye.

“I am a married man, Miss Ayles,” Matthew finally said, not even bothering to look down upon her. “Be my guest and dig yourself a deeper hole in this mess you’ve made. It won’t change anything.”

Crossing the room to the door, Matthew grabbed the knob. “Pack your bags before my return, Miss Ayles,” he called over his shoulder.

Crash!

A teacup smashed against the door, directly beside where Matthew stood. He flinched, jolting backwards as the pieces splattered against his arm. Spinning around, he laid eyes on the governess.

Miss Ayles looked like a wild beast who had just broken free of its cage. She breathed in loud gulps, hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly. With wide, enveloping eyes, the governess stared at him with an aggressive intensity.

“You can’t leave,” she spat. “You can’t! ”

“You have overstepped, Miss Ayles!”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do not be a fool!”

Matthew gaped at her.

“Do you not see, Matthew?”

His lips curled into a disgusted frown. “You dare to use my name?”

“All those years ago, when you needed a governess,” she began, her voice shaking, “I answered your call. Whether you knew it or not, I was here, haunting the halls of Garvey. I have seen you at your lowest and highest. I have raised your poor bastard sister. I am the shadow that clings to you, I am the missing piece that will fix you. Everything you have craved lies within me. Don’t you see?”

“You’ve lost your mind,” he muttered, astonished.

“No,” she whispered. “I can finally think clearly. If there was anything that today has proven, with the fleeing of your fraudulent wife, it is that I am to be your rightful duchess.”

Matthew reached for the doorknob again, throwing the door open quickly before the governess could think to throw something else. With barely a look over his shoulder, Matthew spoke quietly, so softly that he assumed she wouldn’t have heard.

“I already have a duchess.”

“Not for long.”

Matthew froze as his blood ran cold. “Wh–What did you just say?”

Miss Ayles stood there, swaying slightly as if music played, with her hands twisted behind her back. A delicate smile spread across her lips, showing teeth. “Nothing,” she whispered, the smile growing into something sinister.

A chill ran down Matthew’s spine.

For as long as he could remember, fear was not something he had to deal with often. There was not much around that might forcibly bring him to his knees in an unbridled panic. But in that moment, with the governess dressed in a foreboding blood–red, Matthew felt a quiver in his legs, a quick stutter in his heartbeat.

Fear, however, quickly became replaced with rage.

Matthew took only a few long strides till he stood upon the governess, snatching onto her shoulders in a way he knew hurt. He shook her for a moment, watching as Miss Ayles rattled within his grasp. Despite it all, she remained smug, her lips perked up in a way that made his blood boil.

“ What did you say? ”

“Not — for — long.”

Matthew shoved her, hearing her back slam against the wall. He didn’t bother to wait for her to rise, or to see if any real harm had been inflicted. All decorum left him.

Running from the dining room, Matthew left behind the halls of Garvey, ignoring the eyes that watched with curiosity. Emotions rang so brightly within him that there was no way to see where he went, to remember saddling a horse or beginning to race through the woods.

There was only Alicia.