Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

I n one of the four drawing rooms of Garvey Manor, Alicia sat behind a wicker desk, with the housekeeper Ms. Crawford peering over her shoulder.

“There must be almost four hundred tenants,” Alicia mused, her fingertips dragging over the books containing rent payment and tax collection. “How can one man take care of that many people?”

“The duke does not do every single thing in his duchy,” Ms. Crawford said with a laugh.

“Well,” she said, “I know that. It would be impossible otherwise.”

Ms. Crawford moved to stand on the other side of the desk across from Alicia. “Can you tell me what a duchess might do, Your Grace?”

Alicia grew embarrassed. “Take care of the household.”

“Beyond that.”

Scoffing, Alicia shrugged, chewing on her lip. “Beyond what?”

“Yes, a duchess cares for the estate,” Ms. Crawford explained. “There are meals to decide, furnishing to acquire, and gardens to manage. But outside of Garvey, there are many tenants, you said it yourself, Your Grace.”

“Is it not the duke who cares for his villages?”

“What is a family without the touch of a woman?” Ms. Crawford retorted, raising a slender eyebrow.

Alicia shut the book. “You mean, like a mother?”

The housekeeper laughed. “A mother cares for her children, Your Grace,” she said. “A duchess might visit the village markets, attend their festivals and traditions. Show the support of the duke without him actually being there.” Ms. Crawford sighed, looking out one of the windows with a reminiscent smile. “The late duchess devoted three days a week to being within the duchy, before—” her words trailed off.

“Before?” Alicia repeated.

Ms. Crawford’s head shot back towards her, a placid smile on her lips. “Never mind, Your Grace,” she said, extending a hand toward the door. “Might we continue on?”

Alicia nodded, taking note of the lack of explanation behind the duchess.

They exited the room, and walked through a series of halls before entering a wide kitchen, that was bigger than any Alicia had ever seen. Cooks and servants moved about, preparing for a large dinner.

“Every week,” Ms. Crawford began, “we must meet to discuss the menu you’d prefer to see. Once you become more familiar with the local produce and game, it will be the easiest task in all of Garvey.”

“Is it quite different than London?”

“We have access to acres of hunting grounds, Your Grace,” she replied. “Not only that, but the Baxton family has prided themselves in their produce production, giving us more of a variety in what the kitchen might prepare.”

Alicia’s interest perked up at the mention of produce. “Ms. Crawford,” she began, “is there any way we can visit the gardens before the day is over?”

The housekeeper smiled over her shoulder at her. “Of course,” she replied. “As the duchess, you might decide what to change or keep within the gardens, if you so wish.”

“Didn’t the late duchess make the gardens what they are today?”

Once again, Ms. Crawford faltered and looked around, as though they spoke of something that was improper to discuss. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then they will stay the same,” Alicia said.

Ms. Crawford nodded. “Very well.” She gestured toward a second exit from the kitchen, one that led directly outside behind Garvey Manor. “Follow me, Your Grace.”

Sticking close behind the housekeeper, Alicia followed her through the kitchen and into an early spring afternoon. A cool breeze met them at the door, and Alicia breathed it in deeply, the sun soaking into her skin. For the first time since arriving at Garvey Manor, she felt more like herself, more like Alicia and not a duchess.

Ms. Crawford entered the largest garden behind the manor, one that had a wooden gate at its entrance. Between bushes and blossoms, a man stood, his wide straw hat bending down on either side of his face.

“G’day, Ms. Crawford,” he croaked with a tip of his hat. His greying eyes looked over Alicia. “You must be the new duchess.”

She bowed her head. “Yes, sir. Are you the groundskeeper?” she asked. “Renfield?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied, giving a shaky bow.

As Ms. Crawford moved to enter the rows of flowerbeds, Alicia hung back.

“Renfield,” she called out.

The old man paused with his shears. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Did the late duchess spend lots of time out here?”

Renfield lit up at the question, a wide smile stretching across his face to expose missing and cracked teeth. “Oh, yes, Your Grace. She preferred to spend her time here.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, Your Grace,” he explained, “on that day when a babe?—”

“ Renfield !”

The groundskeeper froze and dropped his shears, head drooped down.

Ms. Crawford stood beside Alicia, arms twisted behind her back and a venomous look on her face. “Do not speak of things you do not know about,” she snapped. “And get back to work. You are not paid to socialize.”

Without another word, Renfield turned away from Alicia, picking up his shears and disappearing into a nearby shed.

Alicia turned, watching as the housekeeper motioned for her to follow deeper into the gardens. A suspicion crawled up her throat as they walked, and despite the beautiful flowers and rows of bushes that lined a cobbled walkway, Alicia’s mind could not stop racing about the ever-growing secret that filled the halls of Garvey.

“This way, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said as she pushed past another small gate into another section of the garden. “This will be our last piece of the tour this afternoon.”

Alicia chewed on the inside of her mouth. The end of her time with Ms. Crawford meant seeing the duke once more, and after the sudden coldness, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Within this separate section of the garden, Ms. Crawford stepped aside to show a series of roses that stretched across a wall. There were vines laced up and down the wall, blood-red roses blossoming on every corner. They were the largest blossoming flower Alicia had ever seen.

Ms. Crawford moved aside for Alicia to get a better look. “These,” she said with a gesture, “are the late duchess’s prized roses.”

Alicia reached, touching the petals and thorns. “They are beautiful.”

“Yes,” she said. “And overgrown.”

“Overgrown?”

“Look at the vines, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said.

The flowers were beginning to be crowded by weeds and vines, and looked more like a wild part of the garden rather than one that was taken care of.

“Has no one been down here since she passed?”

“The duke,” Ms. Crawford began, lowering her voice, “used to visit quite regularly.”

“What happened?”

Ms. Crawford lightly laughed. “Well, he became the duke.”

Alicia held one of the blossomed roses, the fragrant smell filling her senses with a sense of comfort, as though the late duchess had a guiding hand on her shoulder. She turned, meeting the uncomfortable gaze of the housekeeper. “Might I ask you something, Ms. Crawford?”

“Of course, Your Grace,” she swiftly replied, even though her eyes gave a different answer.

Alicia turned toward her. “Why doesn’t anyone talk about Lucy?”

There was silence for a moment.

Ms. Crawford swallowed. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace.”

“She will have her debut in society soon,” Alicia continued. “Why is that not the focus of the duke?”

An obvious discomfort took over the housekeeper. She shifted in her stance, holding her arms behind her back as she avoided meeting Alicia’s gaze. “Lady Lucy is a fine young lady.”

“That is not what I asked.”

“There are some things,” Ms. Crawford said with a lowered voice, “that remain unanswered.”

Alicia felt a surge of confidence suddenly. “Am I not to run this household, Ms. Crawford?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford replied with a bow. “But he has been the duke longer. Do not try to pry open doors that are not yet meant for you.”

Before Alicia could pressure the housekeeper to reveal more, Ms. Crawford opened the gate to leave the secluded section of the garden, and gestured for Alicia to follow.

“This way, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said.

The pair left the gardens in an uncomfortable silence, with Renfield watching at the front gate. He shut it behind them, flicking the lock and tipping his hat. Alicia watched over her shoulder as they reentered the manor, with more questions than before swimming through her mind.

Now in solitude, Alicia walked the halls of Garvey Manor to get better acquainted with its mazes. Besides, after her trip to the garden left her with more grueling questions than answers, Alicia felt the need to spend time in her own thoughts, where she knew what to expect.

She walked alone for around ten minutes before sounds came from the front of Manor. Unable to quench her curiosity, Alicia made her way to the front door.

Servants awaited guests at the door, carrying in bags of luggage and taking them to another part of the manor, one where Alicia had not yet ventured.

“Stop fretting, brother,” a young woman’s airy voice carried throughout the room, “I planned on returning anyways. Rain ruined my fun at Mayfair.”

“Don’t you love the rain?”

The girl laughed. “I might, but my senses do not!”

Alicia felt herself lose her breath at the sound of her husband. She had not seen him that morning, since their last outburst with each other. For a moment, she almost just turned away, but she told herself she was the duchess, and it meant being a part of the house.

Alicia slowly approached the entrance, turning the corner to see the duke standing stoically beside the doors, his hands held tightly behind his back.

A young girl entered the manor with a wide smile on her lips. Her skirts were ruffled and flowed as she walked, almost as if she had always danced. Her hair flowed down her back, looking unbrushed and wild in the late morning’s light.

Suddenly, the girl’s gaze flashed over to Alicia.

“The new duchess!” she shouted, running over to greet her. With a clumsy bow, the girl grinned, and lunged, throwing her arms around Alicia’s neck in a tight embrace. “How happy I am to finally meet you!”

Alicia let out a startled laugh, looking over the girl’s shoulder to see Matthew approaching gingerly, a look of distress on his face. “I assume you are Lucy,” she said, breathlessly.

The girl pulled away and nodded. “I apologize if my quick return has ruined your honeymoon,” Lucy said, giving a look over her shoulder to her brother. “But I missed home too much!”

Matthew scoffed.

“I was sad not to have met you sooner,” Alicia said. “I am glad you are here now.”

Lucy squealed, pressing her hands together in excitement. “To have another lady in the manor will be the greatest fun!”

“Lady Lucy,” an older woman called out from the door.

Turning, the young girl nodded, looking back at Alicia with a more muted expression. “I apologize if my excitement was too much of an outburst, Your Grace,” she said with a bow.

Alicia’s eyebrows rose. “No apology necessary,” she said. “This is your home.”

The woman who spoke before approached coolly, blonde hair pinned delicately at the top of her head. “I am Lucy’s governess, Your Grace,” she said with a bow. “Sophia Ayles.”

Alicia nodded to her. “A pleasure to meet you.”

The duke eyed the governess skeptically before he glanced at Alicia. “Did you see the gardens?”

Surprised that he spoke to her, Alicia nodded. “And the roses.”

He flushed slightly. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” The duke wasted no time and practically ran from the foyer.

Alicia sighed, crossing her hands behind her back.

Lucy, a small smile on her lips, touched Alicia gingerly. “Do not look so worried,” she quietly said. “He is very much like a turtle.”

Alicia allowed herself to loudly laugh. “A turtle?”

“Well, yes!” Lucy exclaimed. “When he is comfortable and at ease, he will be out of his shell. But the moment something becomes personal—” Lucy snapped her fingers together, “ Snap! He’s locked away in his shell.”

Alicia nodded. “A turtle.”

“Exactly.”

Alicia caught the duke turning around the corner as he disappeared into the manor. A new piece of her bristled with hope at the idea of having the young Lucy around. Suddenly Garvey Manor was brighter, no longer quiet or mysterious. Despite the duke being locked up of his own accord, Alicia took the return of Lucy as a sign that things would get better.