Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

T he trip from London’s bustling center to the country, where Garvey Manor stood surrounded by its villages, was long and rocky. From the moment they left the chapel, Alicia sat stiffly in her seat, trying her best not to stare so obviously at her new husband.

Even as the hours passed, the morning turning into late afternoon outside, the duke quietly watched out the window. Slowly, the tense contorts of his face seeped into something more comfortable. Alicia leaned slightly on the opposite side of the carriage, her face resting against the carriage wall perfectly so she could study him.

He took in the world that passed by with intensely aware eyes. Nothing got past his gaze. Even from her angle, Alicia could see his stare flicker and jump at every tree and creature. When he was calm, there was something very kind about the duke’s face.

Suddenly, when Alicia felt as though she might drift into a deep sleep, her eyes still stuck on him, the duke turned, meeting her gaze.

“Why do you stare?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Alicia sat up. “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

“No need to apologize.”

She fidgeted, unsure of what else to say.

“But,” he said, “I would like to know why.”

“I was only curious, Your Grace.”

The duke smirked at her. “Curious about my face?”

“Curious about who you are,” she whispered. “Is that so wrong?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“Are you…” Alicia trailed off, glancing at her hands nervously. “Are you at all curious about me?”

He studied her face. “I suppose I am, like any man would be with his new wife.”

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

The duke pressed his lips together. “Well, I could think of one thing.”

“What is it?” she asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Do you truly like those hounds your sister keeps?”

Alicia blinked at him. “That’s your question?”

“Yes, my lady,” he said with an amused smirk. “I was only curious.”

She let a smile curl onto her lips. “They are quite good dogs, Your Grace. Being strays wasn’t their fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” he said. “But they are wild beasts.”

“Beasts?” she repeated with a laugh.

The duke raised a brow. “Anything wild and feral is a beast.”

“If I were to be bold,” Alicia mused, “I’d say you are a bit… apprehensive of dogs.”

“Why on earth would you say that?”

“Look how adamant you are about them,” she explained. “Are you…” she lowered her voice though no one was around to hear. “Are you afraid of them, Your Grace?”

A blush barely grew on his cheeks. “My lady—” he huffed.

“Don’t be shy, Your Grace,” she giggled. “It is all right. They are quite large animals.”

“I am not afraid!”

“Really?”

He crossed his arms like a child. “I am not afraid,” he repeated, more calmly this time. “You made it seem like I was afraid, but I am not.”

Alicia smirked. “You are quite defensive about it.”

“I can defend myself, can’t I?”

“So you are defending yourself for being afraid?”

The duke shot her a look.

Alicia laughed loudly, a hand over her stomach as it consumed her. She covered her mouth, glancing at the duke as she struggled to stop her laughter. He stared at her with raised eyebrows, a slight twitch in the corner of his lip. Suddenly, the duke let a small smile grow, and he chuckled.

“I suppose you’ve got me there,” he mused.

“I think it’s sweet,” she said.

The duke met her gaze. “Sweet?”

“To be afraid of them,” Alicia replied. “It is okay to be afraid, Your Grace. I was, once.”

“You were?”

“Even when she found them, they were quite big,” she explained, smiling at the nostalgia. “And even though she knew she wanted to take care of them, Penny was scared too. They could stand taller than us if they really wanted to. It was my father who made it less frightening. He played with them as though he had known them since birth.”

The duke smiled. “Your father sounds like he was a good man.”

“He was.”

“I understand,” he quietly said.

“Understand what, Your Grace?”

“Your sadness.”

Their gazes locked. Alicia felt her chest rise and fall as he held her stare, an intensity in his eyes that she did not recognize. Her lips parted as she searched for the words to say, but he looked away before she could.

Despite a silence filling the carriage once more, there was something else there, a different kind of tension that brought a heaviness to Alicia’s chest. She breathed deeply, turning her gaze towards the window as she felt the duke’s steely stare look over her for a moment.

The duchy upon which Matthew resided over was quaint and lush of forestry. As the carriage went through the villages leading up to the estate, Alicia leaned to stare out the window. She wondered how much of the land she needed to become comfortable with as the duchess. A pit grew in her stomach at her lack of knowledge surrounding her new position.

“You look ill,” Matthew stated, matter-of-factly.

Alicia eyed him warningly. “This is a large duchy, Your Grace,” she said, gripping her stomach.

He sighed, gazing out the window. “You will see it all in time.”

“Do you—” she swallowed the nausea that rose up, “—enjoy hunting, Your Grace?”

Matthew raised his eyebrows. “Hunting?”

“There looks to be acres of forests,” she said.

“My tenants use it more than me.”

Tenants, Alicia repeated in her head. She grew dizzy.

“Good lord, my lady,” Matthew muttered. “You look positively green. What on earth is the matter?”

Alicia tried to force a smile to her lips. “Nothing, Your Grace. It has been a… bumpy ride to your estate. I’m not used to such long rides.”

“We are almost there,” he said skeptically, now keeping a cautious eye on her.

Within moments, the ground underneath the carriage changed and grew smoother. Alicia’s stomach quieted down, even though her anxieties grew at the idea of being in the estate alongside the duke.

The carriage rolled to a stop at the stairs that led up to Garvey Manor. The duke exited quickly, holding the door open and holding out a hand to help Alicia out. As she stepped before her new home, Alicia gaped at the size of the estate. There were manicured gardens lining the front of the manor, and statues and fountains positioned in the front courtyard.

Garvey Manor was too wide for Alicia to catch a glimpse at how much the land stretched on. Besides, the sense of overwhelming responsibility hung heavily over her head and distracted her from feeling any awe and wonder.

The servants waited outside for them to approach, lining the series of stairs that led to the entrance. A few footmen retrieved Alicia’s luggage from the carriage, bringing it into the manor before she even began to climb the stairs.

Alicia brushed off her skirts from the long carriage ride. “I am looking forward to finally meeting Lucy,” she said.

“That meeting will have to wait,” Matthew replied.

“Why?”

“Lucy made arrangements to stay at the townhouse in Mayfair for the rest of the week,” he explained.

Alicia stared at his head, waiting for him to meet her gaze. “And why is that?”

Without looking at her, Matthew spoke with a stern voice. “For our honeymoon.”

Oh. Heat rose quickly up her neck, swallowing her cheeks. She looked away, unable to stop the blush from covering every inch of exposed skin. Grasping for her fan, her shaky hands fumbled, and the accessory clattered to the ground. Frozen in place, Alicia wished to turn back time and not make a fool out of herself in front of the man she’d be spending the rest of her life with.

Matthew chuckled, bending over to retrieve her fan. He placed it in her hands, his tall figure blocking out the sun. “Let me introduce you to some of the servants, Your Grace.”

The duke led her up a few steps, but Alicia felt as though she watched from above, still stunned at his nonchalant comment. Her heart slammed against her chest at the thought of being alone in Garvey Manor alongside him, with his face masked so well she could not even guess the emotion he felt.

“Ms. Crawford,” he said as he gestured towards a middle-aged woman with hair pulled back into a tight bun, “our housekeeper.” Matthew turned to an older gentlemen beside the housekeeper, who stood tall with lips pulled down in a permanent frown. “And Mr. Livingston, the butler.” Matthew took Alicia’s hand and presented her to them. “This is Alicia Baxton, Duchess of Garvey.”

The title duchess lodged in Alicia’s throat. She struggled to swallow it.

Giving a curt bow, Alicia managed to croak out, “how do you do?”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said with a scratchy voice.

Mr. Livingston bowed his head. “Please do not hesitate to approach us for assistance, Your Grace.”

Alicia was too stunned at being called ‘Your Grace’ to respond in any coherent way. She merely nodded, her hand loose and weak against the duke’s. With a wave from Matthew, the housekeeper and butler made their way into the estate, leaving the newlywed pair standing upon the manor’s threshold.

Matthew gently led her through the doors. “Do not fret about the honeymoon,” he finally said. “I will not touch you.”

With them standing alone in the foyer of the estate, Alicia dejectedly equipped her fan, covering the flush that had overtaken her face. A tightness grew in her chest, but there was no way for her to tell if it was out of disappointment or relief. There was such an overabundance of everything by this point that Alicia knew not which way to turn.

She blinked a few times. “What–what were their names again?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“Whose?”

“The housekeeper’s,” Alicia replied. “And butler’s.”

He raised a brow. “Were you not listening?”

“It–it slipped my mind,” she lied.

“Ms. Crawford,” he told her, with a laugh. “And Mr. Livingston. Try to remember this time.”

Alicia nodded, using her fan as it felt as though she struggled to breathe.

Matthew watched her intensely. “This will not be a regular marriage.”

“I understand.”

“This is an act of convenience,” he continued, as if he was trying to convince a child of something they wouldn’t understand. “And it will be treated as such.”

“Yes,” she muttered, trying not to be offended, “Your Grace.”

“I have no plan to produce heirs.”

Alicia felt her eyes go wide. She covered herself with the fan, but nothing could cover how her chest rose and fell at such a speedy rate. Owen’s eagerness for her to have children that could solidify their union came rushing back to her. Perhaps he had only teased, but Alicia suddenly felt as if there was nothing she could do to fulfill her responsibility as a daughter.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“I–I cannot hear you, my lady,” Matthew said with an irritated look. “Lower your fan.”

She closed her fan with a shaking hand. “I apologize,” she said. “I said, yes, Your Grace.”

Matthew pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow, staring down at her intently. He sighed, looking away. “Ms. Crawford!” he called out.

From around a corner came the housekeeper.

“Show the duchess to her room,” Matthew commanded. He looked back at her, bowing his head curtly. “I expect to see you for dinner. I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” He marched past her, disappearing through the hallway.

Ms. Crawford gestured for Alicia to follow. “Right this way, Your Grace.”

The halls of Garvey Manor were decorated with a series of paintings, hanging off the forest-green painted walls. The color matched the surrounding woods, shades of lumber and dewy morning grass. The manor was filled with bedrooms, ranging from large to small, and with each one she passed, Alicia felt as though she said goodbye to the children she would never have.

On the eastern point of the manor, Ms. Crawford paused in front of an amber-colored door. She pushed it open and gestured for Alicia to enter.

Walking through the bedroom’s threshold, Alicia cautiously entered her new room. It was larger than the bedroom she grew up in, and much less bright. While her childhood room was colored with sky-blue pastels, white frames and long windows, the room within Garvey Manor felt like a kindling flame, dark and warm.

It had a few shelves with leatherbound books and a desk behind a wide window. Maroon curtains were drawn back to show a window that opened onto a short patio that overlooked one of the estate’s many gardens. Alicia inched toward it, hand grazing the brass handle to open the window, but she paused, a sense of unease telling her to refrain.

“Thank you, Ms. Crawford,” Alicia said to the housekeeper.

The woman waited at the door. “Is there anything I can get for you, Your Grace?” She gestured toward a tub behind a partition at the room’s right. “Might I draw the bath for you before dinner?”

Alicia mindlessly nodded, barely even hearing her anymore.

As Ms. Crawford left the room to retrieve things for a bath, Alicia staggered to the bed, falling onto the emerald green quilts.

For the first time since the wedding, Alicia was finally alone, and the walls seemed to be falling in upon her. With a shuddering breath, she allowed the tears to flow, and tried to tell herself that it would all end well.

In the smallest dining hall of Garvey Manor, a table sat at its center, able to seat a party of six. A lavish meal decorated the wood, as a celebration of the new duchess. Lit candles were all around, casting a dim amber glow across the room. Servants lined the wall, silent and in pristine uniform. Alicia entered the room, a pale green gown falling delicately from her shoulders. Her pinned hair was full of jade flowers, like the first time he had laid eyes on her.

Standing from his seat at her arrival, a servant pulled a chair back across from him for her to take a seat.

“Good evening,” Matthew said.

She avoided his gaze, pulling her skirts as she quietly sat in her seat. “Good evening,” Alicia replied, her voice hushed.

As Alicia’s gaze scoured the room, taking in every detail, Matthew let himself study her. A few strands of hair fell out from their pins, framing her face. Her gaze trailed upwards as she looked upon the chandelier that hung above them. As she did, Alicia chewed on the inside of her mouth, lips pressed together and angled to the side. Matthew didn’t notice the small smile forming on his lips at her awkwardness until it was too late, and she finally looked upon him.

Matthew froze, pulling his gaze away as quickly as he could.

They began to indulge in their meal, an uneasy silence filling the room. A sort of electricity bounced around, a tension so thick it could be sliced in half.

Alicia breathed deeply, finally gazing up at him from across the table. “Did you grow up in these halls, Your Grace?” she asked.

“Yes, this has been where the Garveys have resided for generations,” he explained, surprised at her question. “There is no other place I have known as home.”

“It is enchanting,” she said, her eyes glazing over the paintings that lined the walls. “Many lives have obviously been spent here.”

“Do you find it,” Matthew struggled to keep himself sounding pleasant, “comfortable?”

Alicia pressed her lips together. “Comfortable,” she repeated.

Matthew huffed at her hesitance. “Is it not?”

“Your Grace?—”

“There is nothing ill to be said of Garvey Manor,” he snapped, not realizing how fast he suddenly spoke, as if there was a need to defend himself. “Many women have come to find it open and accepted their role as duchess with open arms.”

“Have they?” Alicia asked in a teasing manner, slender eyebrows raised at him.

Matthew gaped. “You were?—”

“Teasing,” she finished in a soft voice. “I did not mean to offend, Your Grace.” She gave him a tired smile. “The estate is lovely.”

He felt his heart calm for a moment. Never had he felt the need to defend his home in such a way, like a child who had no self-security.

Why should I doubt the home I have such pride in? Matthew asked himself, watching the duchess as she paid attention to her plate. Why should her opinion matter? He scoffed to himself.

Matthew breathed deeply to calm down his racing mind. “Are you fond of art?” he asked, uncomfortable in the heavy silence.

“It is pleasing to look at,” she replied with a light laugh. “I wouldn’t say I’m fond if it.”

The quiet swallowed them whole once more. Matthew tried to fight his agitation as he looked upon her, seemingly so comfortable in the silence. He clenched a fork in his hand as he watched her. Her comfort brought a curiosity to him that he couldn’t understand.

Alicia took a sip of her drink and asked, “do you have any gardens, Your Grace?”

“Well, of course,” he said. “Are you interested in gardening?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Matthew held in his relief, but he was satisfied with finding something with which the duchess could occupy her time. “We will tour them soon so you may peruse them at your leisure,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, softly, giving him an appreciative smile.

“Do you like to garden yourself?” he asked.

Alicia dabbed at her mouth with a cotton napkin. “I have only gardened a few times in the past, but I enjoyed it. Perhaps I can learn more here.”

“I’m sure the groundskeeper would be more than happy to assist you.”

She gave him a wide smile. “I would like that, Your Grace.”

“Is there a certain flower you like?”

Alicia pressed her lips together. “Are you,” she teased, “asking me what my favorite flower is, Your Grace?”

Swallowing down his pride, Matthew frowned at her. “You’re teasing me again.”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed lightly. “I appreciate you asking, Your Grace. My mother always grew hyacinths in the spring.”

“Not tulips?”

“Of course there were tulips,” she said. “But the craze of them was… too much, I’d say. They were just simple flowers.”

Matthew smirked. “Simple flowers that cost a fortune.”

“Hyacinths,” she mused, a nostalgic smile pulling at her lips, “make me think of having plenty.”

“Why is that?”

“They are bulbous when they blossom, and are rather large. They remind me of being abundant, and being abundant is a good thing to be.”

“I suppose so,” he said, watching her face as she talked of flowers. There was a childlike joy in her features, a sparkle in her eye as she reminisced. “We will order some seeds.”

Alicia paused as she tilted her head at him. “That isn’t necessary, Your Grace.”

“Don’t you prefer them?”

“Well, I?—”

“We have far too many tulips this season, and as we previously established, they are just too simple,” he teased.

Alicia grinned. “That is very kind, Your Grace.”

Something about having an idea on where they might go from there brought an ease to the dining room. It seemed as though a barrier might always remain between them, which was something Matthew expected. The marriage was not even born out of friendship.

They continued on in a more comfortable silence.

“Your Grace?”

Matthew lifted his head, lost in his own mind, almost surprised to have heard another person at the dining table. “Yes, my lady?” he asked.

Alicia placed her silver down and fidgeted nervously in her seat. “I did want to ask, Your Grace, if my room was once someone else’s.”

“Yes,” Matthew said, unable to stop the frown, “it was once my mother’s.”

“It overlooks a large garden.”

He nodded, lips pressed together in thought.

“Was she fond of gardens?”

“Yes,” he said, forcing his voice to be stern in order to keep the emotion from rising in front of the duchess. “She spent much of her spare time tending to the flowers.”

Alicia crossed her hands in her lap, a smile pulling across her lips. She urged him to continue talking with only a look in her eyes.

Matthew felt the urge to excuse himself. The duchess wanted to connect to him in some way, to form a sort of familiarity between the two on their wedding night. “My father hired a groundskeeper,” he forced out, unable to avoid her penetrating stare, “but she wanted to handle most of it herself. Her family had a passion for botany.”

“Botany?”

“I never had the pleasure of visiting her family home,” he explained, “but from what I was told, they spent much of the day tending to plants. My mother had an impressive knowledge of the native botany.”

“Did she get to continue her work here?”

Matthew frowned. “It was a quiet house,” he said, quickly, not even making sense to himself. She pried where he drew the line. “There were always flowers to water,” he added curtly, louder this time.

“And your sister?”

Matthew struggled not to go stiff under her gaze. “What of her?”

“What is she fond of, Your Grace?”

He let out a surprised laugh. “Why would you like to know?"

“I haven’t had the honor of meeting her yet,” she explained. “I’d like to know a bit about her if I’m to make a good first impression.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, my lady.”

“Why not?” Alicia crossed her arms over her chest. “Does she not still reside here? Under your care?”

“Under your care now as well.”

She seemed to go still at that. “Right,” she said. “Under the duchess’s care.”

“Lucy is fond of everything,” Matthew said.

“That can’t be possible.”

“She is fond of everything under the sun,” he repeated. “Whether it be the trees or the ants crawling up their trunks, she will find something to love.”

“We will have to arrange a meeting between our sisters, Your Grace.”

Matthew surprised himself with a laugh, a loud laugh that filled the room. “So my sister could have reason to bring strays into Garvey Manor?”

“Oh,” she replied with a giggle, “you might grow fond of dogs, Your Grace.”

“Do you think so?”

“Why not?” she asked. “They are loyal companions who would always protect you and your loved ones.” Alicia’s eyes went wide. “Wouldn’t you want that?”

Matthew stared down the table at her and felt her fishing for that connection once more. The urge to allow it, to remove the wall that separated them was more tempting than he wanted it to be. He pressed his lips together and spoke through clenched teeth. “We will find a time to introduce them,” he said instead.

Alicia hid her disappointment well if that was what she felt. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Matthew kept his hands behind his back, staring out the window into the dark evening while he waited for the duchess to take her leave.

“Might we,” Alicia said, clearing her throat, “might we be tolerant with one another from now on?”

“Tolerant?”

“At ease,” she said.

“I don’t?—”

“I am not trying to trick you, Your Grace,” Alicia tiredly said. “I only want to sleep this night knowing we can make this companionship work.”

Matthew looked upon her for the last time that evening, and bowed his head, unable to deny her a simple thing that sounded appealing enough to him as well.

“Yes,” he replied. “You may have this.”

Alicia breathed a sigh and stood from the table, giving him a small bow. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace,” she said. “I will take my leave and retire to my bedroom.”

He stood, bowing his head back at her. And the new Duchess of Garvey left the dining room, leaving Matthew to stand there, alone, wondering if he could truly allow himself to be tolerant of her.