Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

A lex took a bite of his breakfast carefully, for this morning he was no longer dining alone. To his great surprise, his wife had joined him. Without any request or urging on his part. Since the passing of the dowager duchess, Mrs. Westcott had taken to her mourning blacks. He didn't know if he should don anything different himself, since the elderly woman had been nothing to him, but he didn't quite know what the woman was to his wife for her to take the death so personally. A guardian's mother? How long could that mourning period last? She had dressed in black for a week and taken meals in her rooms, and Alex did not quite feel it appropriate to ask more of her.

Only today, she wore a lovely lavender dress, a signal of stepping out of mourning. And that she joined him willingly led him to believe she might be making herself more approachable. After the tumult of losing the dowager duchess, perhaps she had remembered what he'd said about trying to make their marriage work. Though he hoped she would forget the last part of that specific conversation in the carriage.

He watched her for a moment as she took a bite of bread before sipping from her teacup. She did not appear cross or morose, though she did not look to be overly pleased about anything either.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, hoping his breaking the silence did not startle too greatly.

She looked up with indifference. "Fairly well, all things considered. And you?"

Alex blinked. "Uh, the same. Fairly well."

She nodded and went back to her meal.

Not exactly conversational but still lacking the bite and sting from some of their previous encounters.

"Have you considered visiting the duke and duchess recently?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I wanted to give them some time alone." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to give all of us some time alone. To properly mourn as needed."

"I see. And have you completed your mourning period?"

She looked up and met his gaze. "For what she was to me, I believe I have mourned her sufficiently." Her voice was near emotionless, but there was a sense of resolution in the set of her jaw.

"I am glad of it. I did not wish to see you hurting for long."

Again, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Her hand paused over her silverware, and he could tell she had felt the impact in a way that he hadn't intended, or perhaps he had. He didn't wish to see her hurting, though not for any romantic notions, at least that he was aware of. If she was going to remain his wife, then he wanted to see that she had more opportunities to smile than not.

"Did you know the dowager duchess for most of your life?" he asked, trying to carry on the conversation.

"No, quite the opposite, actually." She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her serviette. "I grew up at the boarding house, without knowing who my parents were. Then four years ago, the duke came to retrieve me and provide me with an opportunity for a season as my guardian. It was only then that I met the dowager."

Alex nodded. He remembered Norland briefing him on such details. "And have you traveled much since then?"

"Not at all. My travels have been limited to the duke's family estate in Berkshire, and the townhome here in London."

A notion tickled the back of his mind, but before he could linger on it, she spoke again. "Why all the questions?"

Alex cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I did not intend to host an investigation. Only… I thought that perhaps if we knew each other a little more, we might get along better."

His wife looked down at her plate, pushing around her food with a fork. "I see."

Clearly, she was not convinced.

The clock struck the hour, reminding Alex of his appointment. A visit to Mr. Grisham's was in order. "Ah, I must hurry to a meeting with another gentleman." And yet, he wanted to linger.

Mrs. Westcott gave him a nod. "Good day to you."

Alex stood and excused himself, making his way almost blindly to his bedchambers, for all the thoughts stirring about in his mind. He had to make himself the most presentable if he wanted to help his sister's cause, and that's if Mr. Grisham would let him in at all. Last time Alex went by, Mr. Grisham had gone out, completely forgetting about the appointment all together. Or perhaps he had been intentionally out to avoid seeing him. This continued to occupy most of Alex's mind.

But it wasn't only that. Mrs. Westcott's words also stirred his thoughts, perhaps inspiring something she had not intended. He could only hope and pray she would not turn him away as well .

Reaching for a spare parchment, Alex was scribbling down a note so he wouldn't forget when Radcliff appeared in the doorway. "The carriage is ready for you."

"Thank you. While I'm gone, could you please send an inquiry on my behalf? To a Mr. Miller in Brighton, he's an innkeeper there."

"Of course, sir. Are you planning a visit?"

Alex bit his lip. "Perhaps."