Chapter 4

Rey stared for several minutes at the doorway, face flushed, trying to comprehend what had happened, her bemusement only increasing as she contemplated the situation. The Duke, her now husband, had not chosen her for her status, money, or family connections, and yet he refused to touch her as well. So why on earth choose her for a wife? Could he really value a wife he could mold that much? If so, he was soon to find out what a mistake this marriage had been.

Rey wandered over to the vanity, sitting in front of it, lost in thought as she started pulling pins from her hair. She looked around the large room wondering idly how she was ever to feel at home in such a place. The room with adjoining closet was larger than the whole of Mr. Plutt's first floor, Rey was sure. It was beautiful of course, with a large canopy bed in the middle and several chairs off to one side, but was so much more opulent than Rey was used to. She imagined the chairs by the window would be a lovely place to curl up with a book, a luxury she had thus far not had time for while living with Mr. Plutt.

A knock at the door startled Rey out of her reverie.

"Come in," she said, wondering who would be here.

A maid came in and curtsied.

"Your Grace."

Rey blinked at the young woman, startled at being addressed so.

When Rey did not respond, the maid cleared her throat. "I'm Beatrice. I'm to be your lady's maid. His Grace sent me in to prepare you for bed." Rey noticed a slight accent, possibly French.

Rey swallowed and nodded her head shyly. She had never been undressed by another person. Even as a child she could only recall putting on her clothes herself. This was sure to be a strange experience, yet another in a long list of things she supposed she would have to get used to.

"Of course," she replied. "I apologize. I'm afraid this is all rather new for me."

Beatrice nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Of course, ma'am. If you like, I can help finish removing the pins from your hair."

Rey smiled shyly and nodded. "Yes, that would be fine."

Feeling awkward, Rey sat again, watching in the mirror as Beatrice quickly and efficiently removed the pins from her hair. When her hair lay all around her shoulders, Rey stood from the vanity and turned around. Alarm gripped her as she realized had no idea where to go or how to proceed next. Beatrice smiled kindly at her.

"Would you prefer to undress in front of the mirror or perhaps next to the bed, ma'am?" she asked.

Rey let out a breath, and nodded. "Next to the bed would be fine, thank you."

She padded softly on the plush carpet towards the bed, turning her back to the maid so that she could properly unbutton the long row of buttons down Rey's back. Rey stepped out of the dress, relief flooding her once it was off. It was a beautiful dress, but Rey felt like a play actor wearing it. The night shift Beatrice helped her put on, however, was still nicer than most of the clothing Rey was used to wearing. It was cotton, and so soft Rey was worried about it snagging on her rough skin.

"Would you prefer I brush your hair, ma'am?" Beatrice asked.

"Oh," Rey said, not having thought of it. She looked at her maid, unsure what proper ladies did. "Is that usual?" she asked.

Beatrice smiled. "It depends on the lady, ma'am."

Rey swallowed and smiled tentatively back at her. "If it's alright, then, I'll do the task myself."

Beatrice nodded her head. "As you wish, ma'am. Do you require further assistance?"

Rey shook her head, feeling very much out of her element. "No, thank you. I…I'll just go to bed."

Beatrice curtsied before taking Rey's wedding dress with her out the door.

Once she was alone again, Rey sat on the bed, her thoughts jumbled. She still felt the sting of humiliation at her husband's slight, but also relief that she wasn't to suffer through the process Rose had described. She glanced over to the closed door on the other side of the room. Just beyond it was the Duke's own room. Rey got up and walked over to the door. Seeing a key in the lock, she reached her hand out, pausing once she touched the key. Was she allowed to lock the door? Was it his right to enter her rooms as he pleased? Rey swallowed, not dwelling on the answer to that as she turned the lock and set the key on her vanity.

Rey slept little that night, her racing mind keeping sleep at bay well into the early morning hours. When she did sleep she dreamt of a little girl crying as Mr. Plutt dragged her away from the front window. When she awoke, the sun had just risen, the early morning light filtering in through the window. Knowing she would be unlikely to return to sleep, Rey pushed her blankets away and got out of bed. She stared around the room, unsure what to do or where to go. She knew there were clothing protocols for ladies in the peerage, but as she had never before been a lady, nor worked for one, she had little idea what the protocols were.

Her appetite had not found her yet, so Rey wandered to the window, looking out on the grounds below her. Her room faced the back gardens, which she had to admit appeared very serene. There was a light mist covering the ground as the sun had not yet risen enough to burn it away, giving everything a slightly dreamy appearance. Rey hugged herself, feeling the chill of the morning through the window. She glanced at her fireplace, which had burned down in the night, and looked around for more wood with which to stoke the fire, finding none. Her eyes roamed her room, landing on her closet door. She wandered over, opening the door, supposing she might as well get dressed.

The seamstress had only made twelve dresses in her presence, but as Rey entered the closet she saw many more. He must have used her measurements to create additional gowns, as there were a good deal more than twelve in the enormous closet. Rey stared at them, wondering which ones were for breakfasting. She knew women of wealth changed gowns depending on the time of day, but Rey could not figure out which of the dresses would be a morning dress. They all appeared equally extravagant to her as she had only ever dressed in a gown meant for completing her daily chores and her Sunday dress.

Fingering each dress in turn, she finally settled on a linen dress, as it seemed the least extravagant of the dresses she saw. Pulling it down, Rey walked to the mirror. She put on her stays, having done so herself for years, and pulled the dress on over them. She looked again at her reflection, hardly believing she was looking at herself.

Sitting at her vanity, she brushed her hair, pulling her hair up in a simple bun. She was unsure what the day was to consist of, but figured a bun should be sufficient to start the day. Once her hair was in place she took a deep breath, glancing once at the locked door before walking out her other door into the hallway.

She looked right and left, unsure which way to turn. She had been in such a daze when the Duke had escorted her to her rooms the prior evening that she remembers none of the directions they took to get there. It was also still such an early hour that there were very few servants moving about the house which Rey could ask for directions to the dining room.

Taking a chance, Rey turned left, walking slowly, her eyes drawn to the various paintings and statues that lined the wide hallway. There was surely more money in these works of art than she had ever hoped to see in her lifetime. So caught up was she at the opulence around her that she nearly missed the wide staircase leading down to the first floor. She walked down the curve, her hand gliding along the smooth banister, her neck craned up, admiring the enormous chandelier above her.

Once she had descended the last step, Rey again looked left and right, unsure where to head next. She swallowed, once again looking around her at the enormous house and wondering how she would ever call the place home. Sighing, but determined not to let melancholy take her, she squared her shoulders and turned to the right. As she walked she peeked her head into each open door, hoping to find the dining room.

Finally a servant appeared, walking out of a room and seeming surprised to see her. He looked quickly at her gown and then schooled his face before Rey could discern what his expression meant as he bowed to her. Dread settled in her stomach as she wondered what blunder she was making.

Holding her head high, she addressed the servant. "Would you be so kind as to direct me towards the dining room?"

The servant indicated the room he had just vacated. "It is in here, ma'am."

She nodded at him, feeling very silly as he walked away. She walked into the room and stopped, surprised to see the Duke sitting at the table at such an early hour. Rey felt her cheeks warm as she recalled the humiliation of the night prior. She debated leaving before he noticed her, but her stomach rumbled at that moment and he looked up.

Rey swallowed and curtsied. "Your Grace."

He frowned, setting down his tea to regard her. "You don't address me as Your Grace now," he said.

Rey felt her already warm cheeks grow warmer at her own ignorance. "And how am I to address you then?" she asked, wondering with no little horror if she was to call him by his Christian name. Calling him by his Christian name would denote a familiarity Rey certainly did not have with this man who was now her husband.

His frown intensified as he watched her, and Rey wondered if her horror was displayed across her face.

"Call me Ren," he said finally.

Rey nodded, relief flooding her. "Very well then."

Walking over to the sideboard on the other side of the room, Rey picked up some toast and filled a cup with tea. She could feel her husband watching her every move and bade her nervous hands to stop shaking as she poured the tea.

As she approached the table, he addressed her again. "Are you planning to go somewhere?"

Rey set her tea and toast down and sat, frowning in confusion. "I had not intended to."

Ren cocked his head to the side. "Who dressed you?" he asked.

Rey stared a moment. "I dressed myself," she replied.

"Where was your lady's maid?" His frown turned very severe, and Rey felt dread coiling in the pit of her stomach at his expression.

"I – I don't know," she said, gripping her tea cup harder to hide the nervous tremble of her hand.

Ren stood, walked over to a hanging chord, and pulled it. Rey took a bite of her toast to calm the churning in her stomach, wondering what on earth was going on.

"Am I dressed inappropriately?" She asked timidly, looking down at her dress. "I was unsure which one I was supposed to wear."

Ren didn't answer her as a servant entered.

"Please send Her Grace's ladies maid in," he said to the man.

Rey stood. "Really, it's not her fault. I didn't know how to call her," Rey said. "And it was so early I didn't know if she was awake. If I'm dressed incorrectly, the fault is my own."

Ren turned towards her. "Did she not show you the bell pull?"

Rey stared a moment, nonplussed, and then shook her head. "No."

Ren nodded his head once, as if confirming his suspicions. Beatrice walked in, curtseying to the both of them.

"Why were you not present this morning to attend to Mrs. Solo?" Ren asked, his words clipped in irritation.

Rey walked over to him. "Really, Ren, it is not her fault. I woke early and didn't know to call her. Please don't make a fuss."

Ren ignored her in favor of staring at Beatrice, waiting for her answer.

"I beg your pardon, sir, ma'am. I-I was waiting for Mrs. Solo to ring me." Rey did not like the frightened look on her maid's face.

"And did you inform her where the bell pull was when I sent you in last night?" Ren asked, his expression thunderous.

Rey felt he was making too large a fuss over the situation that was entirely her fault.

Beatrice bowed her head. "No, sir, I did not think to."

"Ren – " Rey began, but was cut off when he continued to berate the maid.

"Did I not tell you of Mrs. Solo's origins?" He asked.

Rey whipped her head towards Ren as Beatrice swallowed. "Yes, sir."

Ren's next question came loudly. "And did you not think she would have no idea how to summon a servant?"

"N-No, sir," Beatrice replied, her head still bowed. "I-It slipped my mind."

"I should have you dismissed for such a blatant lack of regard for your mistress," Ren said, his voice continuing to rise.

At this Rey could keep quiet no longer. "Ren!" she said sharply. He turned towards her, frowning.

"You are making a ridiculous fuss over a simple mistake," she said. That he would so easily dismiss a servant troubled Rey greatly. She gestured toward Beatrice who was looking back at her in shock.

"You need not terrify her in such a manner," she continued, all her embarrassment regarding the situation dissipating in her anger.

As she berated him, Ren's angry expression morphed into surprise and Rey could swear his cheeks turned pink. She was too angry at the moment, however, to consider why. She turned towards her maid.

"You will certainly not be let go for such a simple mistake. You're free to go," she said.

Beatrice looked immensely relieved though she looked to Ren, who gave her a terse nod, before leaving.

When the maid had left, Rey spun back towards Ren. "Why on earth would you make such a fuss?"

Ren cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable. "It is her duty to see that her mistress has all her needs met, and she clearly did not do that."

Rey scoffed and walked back to her tea and toast, dropping into her chair in her irritation. Ren walked slowly back over to his own chair, picking up his tea and taking a sip.

"Do you make it a habit of dismissing your staff over such trivial mishaps?" Rey asked, frowning at him. "It's a wonder you can get anyone to work for you."

Ren frowned at her. "Am I to give congratulations to servants who don't do their job properly?"

Rey sighed in irritation. "Of course not, but neither should you threaten them with dismissal at every mistake." Rey tossed her toast back onto her plate, her appetite now gone.

Ren stood up hastily as Rey stood suddenly. "I find I've lost my appetite," she said. "If you'll excuse me."

Rey all but ran out of the room in her haste to get away from the man. That he show so little regard for those in his employ troubled her greatly. She herself was only just the day before yesterday at the same station in life as they. What kind of treatment was she to expect of him if he shows so little regard for the feelings of those below him? She was not yet a day into her marriage and already wishing she had walked out the door when Mr. Plutt had made the suggestion.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! If you're wondering why Ben asked Rey to call him Ren, apparently wives usually called their husbands by their title. *shrug* Don't worry though, we'll get to that familiarity to call each other by their given names eventually. ;) I'm feeling iffy about how this chapter came out, so please let me know what you think. :)