Chapter 20

Harriet sat quietly as the grand carriage bearing the newlyweds rolled to a stop before the imposing facade of Hugh's London manor. A rueful smile appeared around her lips when she listened to the horses - snorting and stamping in the crisp autumn air.

This was her life now, and as she gazed up at the manor with its towering columns and gleaming windows, her heart leaped into her throat. She glanced at the man opposite her furtively.

This was her life now.

It was Hugh who climbed from the carriage first. He paused, then extended his hand to help her from the steps. Harriet hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed them in his warm, sturdy grip. The sensation of his skin against hers, the gentle strength of his touch... it sent a shiver down her spine, a frisson of something that she had never experienced before.

Harriet shut her eyes and shook her head slightly in an attempt to clear her head from these strange thoughts. With a stiff smile, she allowed Hugh to help her from the carriage and guide her up the steps and into the grand foyer, her skirts swishing softly against the polished marble floor. Harriet glanced around nervously.

Servants lined the hall and their heads were bowed in respectful deference - a silent welcome to the new mistress of the house.

Harriet felt a sudden, overwhelming surge of panic - cut through with the absurd need to burst out laughing. She glanced up at Hugh, suddenly desperate to escape the suffocating weight of expectation that seemed to press down upon her from all sides.

She had no idea how on earth to be a proper duchess. How was she meant to not only navigate the treacherous waters of society with grace and poise, but also run a household? It was too much.

Harriet glanced up at her husband again and her face flushed. There was another danger - one that was far closer. She could not, could not ever, allow herself to fall prey to the dangerous allure of her new husband. She could not let her heart be swayed by the quiet strength and unwavering loyalty that radiated from his very being.

"I um..." Harriet glanced up at Hugh, who looked down at her kindly. "I need rest," she managed to get out. "Perhaps to... just an hour or so... of sleep."

She did not wait for his nod, instead fleeing up the sweeping staircase and looking around desperately for the sanctity of her new bedchamber. She breathed a sigh of relief once a quiet servant led her to the room and her heart pounded wildly in her chest when she closed the door firmly behind her.

If Harriet had hoped that her feelings for her husband would cool down the longer she played the part of duchess, she was sorely mistaken. Rather than cool down, she found that her feelings were growing to a simmering boil despite her careful attempts to avoid him as far as possible.

In fact, Harriet rose each morning, then slipped out of the house before he could corner her with his gentle inquiries and searching gazes. She spent her days exploring the sprawling gardens and quiet nooks of the estate - and soon found that being a duchess was far more than a title.

Of course, though, there were times when she could not avoid her husband without being blatantly rude. Breakfast and supper were two of these times - and it was during breakfast on her third morning there that Abigail came down to the table, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I have exciting news," she announced as she took a seat, and a bright grin settled on her face.

Harriet could only smile at her new sister-in-law's enthusiasm. It was impossible not to feel one's own heart lift with joy at the sight of the young girl.

"Do tell us, Abigail," Hugh announced, glancing at his sister with a lifted brow.

Abigail looked from Hugh to Harriet, her grin widening. "Now, I know the two of you have only just recently gotten married," she started, and Harriet felt her cheeks flush at the reminder. "And it cannot possibly be easy, what with my being here and all - you, lovely Harriet, not only received a husband but a sister to look after and it is quite unfair..."

Harriet frowned at this assertion. Despite Abigail's obvious enthusiasm, she did not feel wholly comfortable with where she thought the conversation was going.

"And as such," Abigail continued, "Our Aunt Eugenia has invited me to come and stay with her at her country estate for a few weeks."

When Harriet frowned, Abigail explained quickly. "Aunt Eugenia is Mother's sister, and she followed Mother to England - but she and Father did not get along well after Mother passed. Still, she's remained in our lives."

She turned to Hugh now. "She says the fresh air and quiet will do me good. It will help me to prepare for my debut next season."

For Harriet, it felt as though a steely fist clenched around her heart. Abigail's presence over the last three days had made her marriage bearable. Focusing on her budding friendship with the young girl helped her with the most difficult challenge she had ever faced: avoiding her husband.

"You... you want to leave?"

Her voice was small and Abigail reached out to take her hand suddenly, looking at Harriet with a furrowed brow.

"Please, Harriet, no," the girl insisted earnestly. "It is not that I want to leave - I love being here and having you as a sister is delightful, but... I merely do not want to be in the way. You are married now, newlywed, and you and Hugh deserve to spend some time together... get to know one another properly."

"Oh, codswallop, Abigail!" Harriet exclaimed at once. "You will stay right here and I will not hear any of this nonsense again. You are not in the way at all, not in the slightest."

Her cheeks flushed when Hugh flashed her a quick look and she stared down at her hands, her voice faltering.

"Right... right, Hugh?" she asked, looking up at him. "I mean... Abigail doesn't have to leave, does she?"

Hugh smiled stiffly, though he nodded after a short silence. "Nay, of course nae," he said and Harriet released a sigh of relief. "Abigail can stay right where she is."

He turned his attention to Abigail, who was looking from one to the other with a thin frown between her brows.

"This is yer home, Abigail," he said simply. "Ye are staying right here, where you are. You can visit Aunt Eugenia, of course - whenever you want to - but certainly nae because of mine and Harriet's marriage. There is absolutely nay need for ye leavin"."

Abigail nodded slowly, though a knowing grin appeared around her lips.

"Then it's settled," the girl said at last, much to Harriet's relief. "I will not go anywhere."

Though she was immensely relieved at Hugh's agreement with her keeping Abigail in the house longer, Harriet could not deny the small part of her that had doubts about it.

Did Hugh want his sister to stay because he did not want to be alone with her? Harriet was reeling from this thought, her mind running a thousand miles a minute.

She wanted to avoid her husband because she feared falling deeper in love with him. Why would he want to avoid her? Did he regret marrying her already?

It was these thoughts that caused Harriet to maintain an even more careful distance from Hugh, even within the confines of their shared home. Even Abigail's presence was no longer enough to keep her calm, she realized when time for supper came.

"I... I'll have supper in my room. I have a headache," she explained quickly when a servant came to call her to dinner. The young woman looked at her with wide eyes, then nodded.

"Of course, Your Grace."

The headache she had lied about made its appearance shortly after dinner and Harriet headed over to her bed, climbing in and pulling the covers over her head. She was not quite sure how much time had passed when there was a quick knock at her door and the next minute she heard someone enter and take a seat next to her.

"Harriet? Are you asleep?"

She groaned softly and peeked out from beneath the curtains. In the dim light of dusk, she could barely make out her husband's features. He took one look at her, then stood - calling a servant and whispering fervently before returning with a wet cloth and pressing it against her head.

"I feared ye were avoiding me," Hugh admitted softly. "But I see now that ye truly have taken ill."

She merely nodded, her cheeks flushed. "If ye are nae better by mornin"," her husband spoke softly, "I shall call for a physician."

Then his lips brushed against her forehead and he left - so abruptly that Harriet was quite certain she may have imagined the moment.

As such, when she woke the next morning, Harriet was rather convinced that she had dreamed up her husband's presence at her bedside. The headache had faded somewhat, and truth be told she felt much better. Luckily - for she had hardly dressed when there was a knock at her door.

Harriet held her breath, but let out a sigh of relief when it was Abigail who entered her bedchamber.

"I am so glad you are better!" the girl exclaimed and threw her arms around Harriet's shoulders. "Hugh forbade me from bothering you while you were ill, but I had to come see. I know we spoke about taking a walk in the garden, and..."

Harriet looped her arm through Abigail"s with a soft laugh. "I am most definitely healthy enough to take a walk in the gardens with you."

It was at this moment that another knock reverberated through the room and Harriet felt her face flush as Hugh peered in, his face a mask of concern. He hesitated when he saw her with Abigail, though an earnest smile soon appeared around his lips.

"I was just checkin" in," he explained. "I wanted to see how ye were doing."

"Oh, much better, thank you," Harriet spoke quickly, nearly stumbling over her words. "In fact, if you will excuse us, Abigail and I were just on our way to take a quick walk through the gardens. I promised her yesterday and besides I do believe it will be good for my headache..."

Abigail hesitated and Harriet glanced at her. She could see from the girl's expression that she was about to invite Hugh along and she grabbed her hand quickly.

"Come, Abigail," she insisted, trying her best to keep her voice light. "Let us not keep Hugh - I am sure he has a lot of work to do."

With this, she managed to drag Abigail down the stairs - leaving Hugh behind, though the effect he had on her remained even as they strolled through the garden.

"Are... are you all right?"

Abigail asked it once Harriet's fervent footsteps ceased and she turned to face her, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"Of course I am," she lied quickly. "Why would I not be?"

Abigail hesitated - seemingly measuring her words. "It's just.... That ever since you and Hugh married, it seems as though you've been avoiding him," the girl explained, her eyes wide.

"And I am young, I do not know much about marriage... but I do know that my mother and father never avoided one another, so... I was just wondering... why, I suppose."

Harriet hesitated. There truly was not a lot she could say - at least not without scarring Abigail for life. So instead, she put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close for a few seconds.

"I am not avoiding him," she said, trying her best to keep her voice light. "I am merely getting used to the idea of being married - that is all."

"So everything is all right with your marriage?"

Though the question was improperly personal, Harriet could not find it in herself to be offended or angry. Instead, she pressed her palm against Abigail's cheek in a comforting gesture before nodding.

"Everything is all right with our marriage," she said, as earnestly as a lie could be, then turned towards the garden once more. She would have to be subtle about avoiding her husband, she decided. She just didn't know exactly how she would manage.