Chapter 13

"Fine?" Georgiana eyed the room and crossed her arms. "What is that supposed to mean?"

It was an empty room, so no one was able to answer her question. She tapped her foot in the silence as her frustration bubbled up her chest. All this thinking was giving her a headache.

She had been here an hour. An entire hour, and she was still no closer to understanding what her husband had meant by that.

"Fine good? Fine awful? Fine I'm wasting funds and will be punished?" She rubbed her face. "This is ridiculous. A waste of my time. I should…"

Hearing humming nearby, Georgiana fell quiet. She took a few deep breaths before she stepped out into the hall to see who might be there. It was the butler and two footmen. They smiled when they saw her. After talking with them for a few minutes, she watched them move on.

"There you are, Your Grace!" Mrs. Helen appeared from around the corner. She watched the men leave before making her way over to her mistress. "Goodness, you make a good impression here."

Georgiana's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Your Grace, the staff like you. They even adore you. Franklin over there can't stop singing your praises, you know. I told him you would never give him a second glance, seeing as you're married and a noblewoman. He said he didn't care. He's just thrilled to be in your household. I've never been in such a happy household, Your Grace."

"Oh. Well, that is…"

Georgiana blinked once, twice, and then five times as a wave of emotion swept across her. She didn't have words for this feeling. Warmth filled her chest.

Although she had been through a few households and knew how to run one, her father's influence played too big a part to be ignored. Everyone walked on eggshells around him. There were several families in London whom she knew were prone to make up excuses to fire their servants. Everyone had high expectations, and most families ruled through fear. She saw no need for that.

"Thank you." She beamed at her housekeeper. "That's very kind of you to say. Now, how would you describe this room?"

A flash of confusion crossed the housekeeper's face before she looked into the parlor. "The parlor you redecorated? Oh, it's magnificent. Why?"

Georgiana smirked. "That's exactly what I thought, thank you."

Maybe her husband would be an odd and slightly rude man all their lives. So be it. But that didn't have to stop her. This was her life. Her home. Her marriage. She would make the most of it. In time, she would unravel the mystery that he was.

In the meantime, she had a household to run.

That and visiting hours. Folks insisted on coming by in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her husband as well as to talk with her. Georgiana couldn't help but be amused by them, often jumping at every noise and craning their necks.

"You don't think he shall join us?" a dubious young debutante asked, alongside her two sisters and mother.

Georgiana smiled as she answered the question for the fifth time that day. "He shall not, I'm afraid. He's very busy. How do you like the cakes? My cook and I are studying new recipes."

Everyone loved the cakes. Even one of the older gentlemen who was losing his teeth and had been forced to visit with his gossiping old wife and her friend. He dare not tell her otherwise. At first, Georgiana had been irritated by the influx of visitors. But her cousin reminded her the visits wouldn't last forever, and she might as well distract herself with them. In time, interest about her and her husband would wane.

That's the only matter. I wish they would stop asking after him. I know nothing about him. Only that he doesn't like to be bothered and isn't interested in spending time with me. I wonder how he would react if I told everyone that I think his favorite color is green and his favorite scent is gardenias?

Besides, after visiting hours came her alone time. She had decided to use it by redecorating the old home.

It had a beautiful structure and a lot of promise. Much of the furniture was falling apart, however, and needed to be replaced for safety. Wallpaper was peeling badly in most corners, and there was often an old smell in less frequented corners.

While she had the house carefully cleaned, Georgiana had swept through the front parlor with the red and gold tones. It was fine. That was what her husband said. She chose to take it as inspiration.

Perhaps he will say the same thing about the next room? Or satisfactory. Or average.

She snorted to herself as she took another note. They would need to replace some boards in the bookcase, since it was beginning to lean to the left.

"Maybe remove it," she said under her breath as she scribbled another note. "Bookcase is blocking morning light. Switch sides?"

Slipping her notebook into her pocket, Georgiana paused to reassess the room. She tugged on an overly large chair and brought it across the room. Then she paused to look just as a figure appeared in the doorway.

Her heartbeat was already beating too quickly to have heard him arrive. Still, her breath caught in her chest when she looked at him.

It was Owen. Her husband. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, Georgiana was beginning to feel thrilled, as if she had caught a fairy. It was rare to find him in the large house, especially since it seemed he was avoiding her.

"Good afternoon!" she greeted loudly, offering a broad grin.

As usual, he eyed her with slight suspicion and a frown. "Good afternoon, Duchess."

He was dressed more casually now than he had been that morning. This meant the day was only half over, and she had seen him twice. It felt like an omen. For what, she could not know.

At it stood, her husband was handsomely underdressed. He had lost the cravat she last saw hanging loosely around his neck. His waistcoat had been unbuttoned, not a jacket in sight, and his white shirt was open at the collar. She wasn't certain she had ever seen a man's bare neck before. When her gaze landed on the bare stretch of skin, she felt her stomach flutter.

Georgiana hurriedly looked away. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Hm? No." He turned away to look around the room blankly. "The room looks different now."

"I thought I might brighten it up," she noted.

His brow furrowed. "The walls are still dark."

"That's because I haven't redone them yet," Georgiana responded, working to keep mild irritation from her voice. "It will be a light blue room, I believe. All that has been done is that I have moved some furniture to open the space."

"Hm."

It was a small grunt, but it was still enough for her to lose her confidence. She had clung to it dearly every day. After his words this morning, she didn't know what to think about him. If he ignored her, it was admittedly easier. But if he paid her attention, then she would need to be mindful of what she said and did. That sounded exhausting.

Especially if he doesn't like my idea. Fine, he said, about the other room. It's a good thing he'll never see the inside of my bedchamber. I've been moving around half the furniture almost daily, so it is rather cluttered now. But what will he think of this? Will he care? Will he have opinions? If he thinks to punish me or scold me, I can't promise a fair reaction.

"That would be nice."

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nice," he echoed.

Owen's gaze flitted about the room before slowly settling on her. A warm shiver crept up her spine.

He nodded. "I trust you know what you're doing."

And then the Duke, a little dirty and much more confusing, left.

Feeling a smile spread across her face, Georgiana quickly hid it behind her hand, even though no one was there. She wanted to be careful. Her heartbeat quickened as she reconsidered his words. Nice wasn't much more than fine, but it felt like a giant leap in the right direction.

The warmth spread through her limbs as she thought of her husband. He spent so much time frowning and grunting and avoiding her. But if he could say that she was doing nice work, then perhaps he wasn't the horrible person everyone made him out to be.

Not even half the rumors I hear about him can possibly be true. It's impossible for one man to steer a battleship alone, after all, and he doesn't seem the type to trap and kill an entire herd of hogs. What if none of it is true?

As Georgiana sought Mrs. Helen to help her take notes and prepare the next steps for redecorating the room, she attempted to put her husband out of her mind. It was easier to focus on everything else during the day and allow him to consume her wandering thoughts during her meals.

But she didn't even make it to sunset.

Hearing Marjory's advice to seek him out and learn about his interests over and over in her head, Georgiana decided to make her first attempt.

She excused herself from the kitchens, where they were reviewing the new menu, and made for her husband's study. The closed door did little to dissuade her, though her heart hammered as she slowly knocked.

"Duke?" she called tentatively when it didn't open. She felt silly saying that out loud. "Are you in there?"

"My Lady?"

"Oh!" She jumped, whirling around.

The butler, Wentworth, started in return. He stumbled back a step and put a hand over his heart. "Your Grace, what are you doing?"

Patting her cheek, she shook her head over her foolishness. "I'm sorry, Wentworth. I was only looking for my husband. He wasn't answering the door."

"He isn't inside, Your Grace."

She blinked as the news sank in. Heat rose to her face. The butler had caught her talking to an empty door.

Trying to brush aside the embarrassment, she forced a smile. "Right, yes, I… I did discover that, thank you. So where might I find him in the house?"

"He isn't inside the house." Wentworth paused. Just as Georgiana opened her mouth to request more information, he added, "He is outside, in the greenhouse."

Goodness me, I forgot all about the greenhouse.

"Right, the greenhouse."

She quickly recalled how she had seen the glass structure and had immediately been prevented from getting closer to it, since her husband didn't want her there.

That was where he liked to hide. The greenhouse was where he spent his time. Was the man really studying plants? Jean had mentioned a gardener, so Georgiana couldn't picture the Duke getting himself dirty. Prodding a plant, perhaps, and watering it, but nothing more. He was hiding away there to do something or another, and he didn't want her there.

"Thank you, I'll go speak to him now," Georgiana said when she realized the butler was still waiting.

"But, Your Grace…"

She waved a hand over her shoulder. The household might like her, but she knew they still ultimately answered to the Duke. At least Wentworth did. She had gathered that from her first day here how some of the servants were particularly loyal to her husband.

I don't mind that at all. The fact that he can inspire loyalty in anyone is admirable. But I don't need a servant or anyone else trying to limit my freedom.

Climbing the stairs, Georgiana silently rehearsed an argument about why her husband couldn't continue to keep her away from there. She liked flowers. It was her home. And she was a particularly tidy person, so really, granting her access to the greenhouse could only have positive effects.

She made it to the roof without being stopped. Breathlessly standing before the door, Georgiana considered the wonders waiting for her inside. Her bare hand curled against the handle and pulled––only to discover it was locked.

"Humph." She stepped back and crossed her arms. "I did not expect that."

As Georgiana spent a minute stewing over her options, she tried to think about what she could do here. Could she find a key or some other way to unlock the door? She might have to ask a servant for access. It should be on her master key set, but she had already counted the doors and locks accordingly.

But then she saw shadows inside and heard voices coming her way. Just as she took two steps back, there was a click and a snap before the door opened to reveal her husband and a short, round man laughing.

Her mouth hung open at the sound of her husband's laughter, for it was a sound that surprised her more than she had expected. It was a deep chuckle all the way from his chest, but sweet and tender. The sound drew her forward, and for a second there, she was upset that it was cut short.

"Duchess."

The two men stared at her skeptically.

Forcing herself to straighten, Georgiana felt an awkwardness creeping through them on the roof. She hastily nodded, looking for a way to fix it. "Good afternoon, Duke, Sir. I… I'm terribly sorry to have interrupted your conversation."

The round man touched his thick mustache and eyed them carefully. He didn't look any friendlier than her husband did.

"It's over now." Owen started to fix the sleeves he had since rolled up. Half of her worried she would find him undressed if she came upon him a fourth time today. "Don't you have enough redecorating to keep you off the roof?"

She waved a hand in the air. "I've done what I can today. I thought I might stretch my legs. Besides, I'm still not familiar with the greenhouse, and I must admit to my curiosity. I would so love to see what you two were working on. If I promise not to touch anything, might I be offered a tour?"

Any softness or friendliness in the Duke's demeanor evaporated at her question. Every bit of him hardened as he gave her a stern look.

"This is my greenhouse," he reminded her. "I said you can have the rest of the property. But this is dirty and––"

"––dirty and dangerous, I know." She glanced at the gardener, who looked surprised that she had cut her husband.

To be certain, Owen stared at her as well, and she was confused now. But she carried on regardless.

"But the best way I can manage the house is to know every square inch of it, even the spaces I am meant to avoid down the line."

Owen narrowed his eyes at her. "Where else have you been?"

"Everywhere but here." She lifted her chin. "You said I have my freedom, remember?"

"Yes, your freedom to be everywhere but here."

Resisting the urge to groan took every ounce of her strength. "I already promised not to touch anything, Your Grace. Even if I did, it doesn't mean I would ruin anything of yours."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Have I ruined anything of yours thus far?"

"No, but––"

She spoke over him. "Then surely you do not mean to be judgmental or skeptical of me, since there is no reason to believe such a thing."

While she stared down her husband, the gardener shifted uncomfortably between them.

"I don't mean to steal your time, Duke. I would hate to be a bother. Perhaps your gardener here may show me around if you are busy?"

Although Owen didn't like her suggestion, he evidently couldn't find any way out of this.

It was difficult for Georgiana not to feel proud of herself. Her husband didn't wish to insult her or scold her, especially not in front of a servant.

He was considering her request. He might even grant it. What would that mean for them? She asked herself that question, trying not to dream of the impossible while planning for something special.

"Fine." The Duke glanced at the gardener. "Davies, show her around. Keep it quick. The sun will set soon."

"Er, yes, Your Grace."

Georgiana beamed, watching her husband stalk off. He disappeared out the door before she could thank him. Then she turned to the gardener—Davies—who didn't look very pleased with his new task.

Smirking, she straightened up. She was determined to win her husband over. If the greenhouse meant so much to him, then surely the gardener had to be respectable as well.

Plans started churning in her mind. All she would need to do was win over every servant, so her husband was forced to see her.

"You're a very generous man to help me," Georgiana told the gardener. "Davies, isn't it? What an excellent gardener you must be. Where shall we begin this tour?"

Davies ducked his head, but she saw a flush creep up his face quickly.

She inwardly let out a small cry of victory.

"Right this way, Your Grace."

"Thank you," she said while walking through the open door.

Perhaps the Duke doesn't wish for me to get to know him. But he cannot stop me. Now, let's see this greenhouse.