Chapter 9

Loneliness At Last

Rose was so absorbed in her book that she barely noticed where she was going until she collided with something hard, and warm.

"Ooof." She stumbled and dropped her book. In her haste to retrieve it, she collided once more with the person, losing her balance completely.

Strong arms caught her, steadying her before she could fall. The scent of the first frost of winter washed over her, and she looked up to see the Duke.

He let her go, moving away from her so quickly that it was as though he'd been burned. Rose felt a stab of pain in her chest but could not understand why.

"Are you hurt?" He cocked his head, his words at odds with the neutral expression on his face.

"Oh… I, erm, no." She felt her cheeks redden and forced herself not to fidget or look away from him. "I did not expect to see you, Your Gra—I mean, Alexander. I thought you were still in the North."

Alexander's face could have been carved from stone. "I returned early. Did Mr. Black not notify you?"

Rose racked her brains, trying to remember.

I do not want the man to be punished.

"Oh, yes, I remember now. It is my own fault, I mixed up the dates in my mind."

Silence stretched between them, and Rose tried to remember the last time she had seen the Duke. It had been nearly two months since their wedding, and she had scarcely seen him more than a handful of times.

I think we last spoke perhaps a fortnight ago?

"Are you well?" the Duke blurted out.

"Yes," Rose answered without thinking. "And yourself?"

"Yes." The Duke noticed the book on the floor and stooped to pick it up, a frown on his face.

Rose felt panic rise in her chest.

Oh God, please, do not let it be damaged.

She held her breath, cursing herself for not being more careful. She had seen a servant break a vase a month before, and the fury on the Duke's face had been frightening.

"You enjoy reading?" The Duke's question caught her by surprise.

"Pardon?"

"Do you enjoy reading?" The Duke cocked his head.

"Oh, erm, yes. I have always loved books and learning about new things." Rose flushed, wondering how he would react to this information.

Is the Duke a man who thinks that reading and learning are not suitable for a lady?

Alexander paused as he read the title of the book in his hand. "Rob Roy." He furrowed his brow. "My father heavily favored Scott's work. Though I confess, I do not care for it."

At the mention of his father, a look Rose could not quite decipher flashed across his face.

Anger? That does not seem quite right.Perhaps I should change the subject.

Before she could say anything else, Alexander said, "I hope you find the selection of titles to your satisfaction."

Rose blinked and realized that he was referring to the books in the drawing room. In truth, she had already read all of them twice over but had been too shy to ask Mrs. Thomas to purchase more. Yet, it did not seem prudent to say this to her husband.

"Yes, there is quite the range."

That is true, it is more than simply novels at least.

The Duke nodded but said nothing further. The air around them seemed to thicken, becoming stifling and oppressive.

"Might you return the book?" Rose asked, feeling as though she might explode.

"Pardon? Oh. Yes." The Duke glanced down at the book in his hand, as if surprised to find it there, and hastily handed it back to her. "Of course."

Their fingertips brushed, and he jerked his hand back. Once more, the air thickened.

"Well, I have business to attend to." The Duke inclined his head towards her. "Good day."

"Oh, yes, of course."

Rose didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed as the Duke turned away from her and walked into his study, slamming the door behind him.

It is as if he does not know how to close a door any other way.

She sighed and felt a familiar sadness wash over her.

What did you expect? He told you from the start that you are no more than an obligation to him.

She ached for companions. All her life, she had been in the company of her sisters and mother. They had shared jokes and jests, their hopes and dreams.

As she made her way through the corridor towards the drawing room, she saw one of the armed guards coming into the hall.

"Your Grace." The man bowed to her, one hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Colonel Briggs." Rose smiled, ignoring the discomfort at hearing her new title.

You'd think after two months, it would feel less strange.

The first time she had encountered the armed guards, she had been deeply unsettled. What kind of man needed armed guards? She didn't dare ask the Duke and felt that asking the guards themselves would be most inappropriate.

"Tell me, how is your wife?" she asked.

She had hoped that getting to know the guards would alleviate her discomfort and make her feel less like a prisoner in her own home. It had half worked. She no longer felt uncomfortable around them, but she couldn't help but feel trapped.

Though that may have less to do with them and more to do with the reality of my situation.

Belatedly, she realized that Colonel Briggs was speaking to her, and flushed.

"I do beg your pardon, Colonel, but would you be so kind as to repeat what you said?" Rose let her embarrassment show on her face.

The man smiled and did as she asked. "Oh, she is doing much better now. The peppermint you suggested was most effective for her stomach. I cannot thank you enough!"

"Think nothing of it. I am just relieved that it has helped!" Rose exclaimed. "I trust she is fully recovered?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Very much so." Colonel Briggs beamed, before glancing over her shoulder. "I must beg your forgiveness, but I must deliver this report to His Grace."

"Of course, I would not keep you from your duties. Please send my good wishes to your wife." Rose moved aside, allowing him to pass.

"Of course, thank you, Your Grace." The Colonel saluted her before he continued down the hall.

Rose smiled, glad that her advice had helped the Colonel's wife. She walked into the drawing room, slightly buoyed by the interaction, but soon felt the familiar loneliness settle over her.

She glanced around the empty room, trying to ignore the sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the corner. She hated the thing.

I swear it is taunting me. Moving slower and slower until I lose what little is left of my mind.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she leaped up. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she hastily checked her reflection in the window.

Not that the Duke notices what you look like—he scarcely looks at you.

"Enter." Rose smoothed her dress.

To her surprise, Lady Olivia Rokesby walked into the room, her face breaking out into a wide smile when she saw her.

Rose nodded once. "Lady Olivia, I did not expect to see you."

"Oh, please, you do not need to be so formal with me. ‘Lady Olivia' always makes me feel terribly old."

"Then what would you prefer I call you?" Rose asked.

"Well, that would be a rather complicated answer, I fear." Lady Olivia beamed at her. "For we are sisters by law. Yet, we scarcely know each other."

"Indeed, we do not." Rose tilted her head, feeling more at ease thanks to the young woman's candor.

"Exactly. Therefore, Society would dictate that I call you ‘Your Grace' or ‘Madam,' and you would call me ‘Lady Olivia.'" Lady Olivia made a face, her displeasure evident.

Rose smiled, enjoying the candor of her new companion. "I am not sure how I would feel about being called ‘Your Grace' by someone who was my superior a few months ago."

She still found it difficult to accept her new title. It felt less like an honor and more like a curse. A reminder of her new life. She had not signed her recent letters to her family with her new title. And the thought of this young woman calling her "Madam" or "Your Grace" seemed ludicrous at best.

"I am glad we are in agreement." Lady Olivia beamed at her. "Perhaps you could simply call me Olivia?"

Rose bit her lip. She did not want to offend the girl, but "Olivia" seemed far too intimate. Regretfully, she shook her head. "I fear I cannot do that. It does not seem right."

"No matter, I would not wish you to address me in a manner that causes you discomfort." An impish grin spread across Lady Olivia's face. "However, this does not help us address our current problem of propriety."

"Indeed, it does not." Rose smiled back, the other woman's openness soothing her heart. "Pray, what would you have us do? What is the answer to this most pressing dilemma?"

"Well, for now, we might call each other Lady Rose and Lady Olivia. And then…" Olivia trailed off, a mischievous look in her eyes.

"And then?" Rose prompted.

How is this warm girl related to the Duke?

"We must become the closest of friends, of course. Then we might take off the shackles of Society and call each other by our Christian names." Olivia laughed.

Rose laughed with her, feeling some of the grief she had felt these last months fade.

When did I last laugh?

"I think I should like to be your friend."

"And I should like to be yours." Olivia looped her arm through Rose's. "Come, let us take a walk around the garden. It is small, but I find that on a day like today, it feels almost criminal to be inside."

Rose nodded and allowed herself to be steered towards the garden. As they walked together, she found the other woman's easy charm utterly disarming.

How unlike her brother she is.

While the Duke was hard edges and cold solitude, his sister was the opposite. She shared his high cheekbones and sharp features, yet her eyes were so full of warmth and kindness that she was impossible to resist. While he was closed off, curt and aloof, she was effusive and open.

"You know, I once climbed to the top of that tree." Olivia gestured to a particularly gnarled-looking apple tree.

"Did you?" Rose found it easy to imagine this lively girl doing something like that.

"Indeed, I did. It was my sister Marie's fault. She told me that I was too old to do something like that and that I must be a lady now." Olivia shook her head in disgust. "I was only ten!"

"And how old was Marie?"

Olivia flushed. "Two, I think. But she was a very precocious toddler. Actually, she is a very precocious child."

"You let a child goad you up a tree?" Rose laughed.

"I do not like to be told what to do."

"I am beginning to see that." Rose smiled. "I fear I have grown so used to being told what to do that I scarcely know how to do differently."

"Are you telling me that if I simply demand you call me Olivia, we might have skipped this Lady business?" Olivia's eyes widened in mock outrage.

"Perhaps I am getting better at standing my ground," Rose teased. "Tell me, was climbing the tree everything you had hoped it would be?"

"I suppose that depends on your point of view. On the one hand, I do love proving people wrong, and I did get to the top of the tree. On the other hand, the decision may not have been the wisest." Olivia blushed again. "You see, although I reached the top of the tree, no sooner had I turned to gloat than the branch beneath me snapped."

"Oh, goodness!" Rose clapped a hand over her mouth. "Were you hurt?"

"I might have been if Alexander had not been there to catch me." Olivia shook her head. "I hadn't even realized he was in the garden. I barely had a chance to scream before he caught me in his arms."

Rose flinched. "It is fortunate that he was there."

"Yes. It was." Olivia smiled sadly. "He was shaking. I have never seen him like that before. He set me on the ground and checked me for injuries. I was crying because I was terrified Father would be angry with me for breaking the tree."

"Your father?"

"Yes, it was a few months before he died." Olivia's voice was soft. "I remember begging Alexander not to tell him, asking him not to be cross with me."

Rose shivered as she imagined the cold face of the Duke staring into the pleading eyes of a child. "I cannot imagine he responded kindly to such pleas."

Olivia tilted her head, a look of confusion in her eyes. "Do you really think my brother would be so cruel?"

Rose flushed. "Was he not?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. He told me that trees could be replaced, but there was only one of me. He said he would keep my secret, but that Father would understand."

Rose's eyes widened in surprise. "And did you ever tell your father?"

Olivia nodded. "Yes. He asked the next day what had happened to the apple tree, and I told him. He simply told me to be more careful and choose a sturdier tree next time."

She laughed sadly, and Rose put an arm around her. For a moment, they sat in companionable silence.

"It is hard to imagine your brother as you have described. It is so far removed from the man I know." Rose frowned. "Did your father's death change him so much?"

Olivia pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Yes and no. My brother is not the callous brute everyone makes him out to be. Father's death hurt him more than I think he cares to admit. It wounded some fundamental part of him."

She paused, as if considering her next words. "I do not remember much of the night Father was killed. I only remember what happened afterwards. I remember Alexander and the way he promised to protect me. It was as if he put on a mask to hide himself from the world…"

"I do not know that I will ever see the man beneath the mask." Rose sighed.

If the man even exists.

"Besides, I scarcely see him anyway. I fear he does not care much for my company."

"I find that hard to believe." Olivia smiled kindly. "Who would not enjoy your company?"

Rose blushed. "I have scarcely seen him since our wedding. If I am honest, it had been weeks since I spoke to someone other than a servant."

Something caught Olivia's attention, and Rose turned to see the familiar figure of the Duke striding towards them. He stiffened and so did she.

Olivia looked between them and sighed. "Brother, do you have plans this evening?" she called.

"I have some matters to attend to and will be in my study." The Duke looked as though he would turn away.

"I think not, Brother dearest. Tonight, I expect you to join me and Lady Rose for dinner." Olivia folded her arms across her chest, a defiant look in her eyes.

Rose only just managed to stop herself from gaping in astonishment. The Duke's body seemed to tense up for a moment, and she recoiled, ready for the angry outburst she had been expecting for weeks. Yet, no outburst came.

Instead, he sighed and shook his head. "Fine. I shall see you tonight for dinner."

Then he departed while muttering under his breath.

Rose let out a sigh of relief. She glanced at Olivia, who looked thoroughly pleased with herself.

"This evening will be delightful, just you wait." Olivia took Rose's arm once more. "Come, let us pick something fabulous for you to wear. I brought my own evening wear, of course. This is going to be sublime!"

Rose said nothing, simply nodding. For all Olivia's effusive charm, she was sure the evening would end in disaster.

What have you gotten us into?