The carriage slowed. Though the journey was long, the time seemed shorter with the good company by his side. The vibrant conversation, and sentiments of promising friendship, filled the atmosphere with great satisfaction.
It is interesting how he has not seen his lady wife in years. Yet they can converse like old friends as if they have never been apart. Much was learned about her on this trip, by listening to what was said and unsaid. He found out his wife is industrious, generous of her time and money, compassionate of heart, well studied (not that he didn't already know that), rather witty when need be, can take a joke, musical, talented, level-headed, strong. He can agree with her father. She does have a sensitive heart though it is surrounded by a moat and walls of overgrown thorns. But she cleared a path for him and that is all he needs.
There was also a discovery of dismay about her. She has been cast aside and ill-treated, left to believe she is unimportant and worthless. Her pretty mouth never confessed that. However, he is a good reader of people and their intentions. He cannot explain it but feels down to his bones that she views herself as unsuitable. Her attractive eyes, smile, and heart hold secrets and tears and pain. It makes his own heart sick for her.
As his eyes focused on his sleeping beauty, he inhaled her sweet scent. Roses, vanilla, and something fruity. It arouses his senses, almost as much as their conversation. A beautiful conversation with a beautiful mind owning a beautiful heart in a beautiful lady. He played with a piece of her hair, which had come undone from her pinned curls.
The carriage entered Suffolk. Over the next hill will be his home, their home. He lightly nestled her to wake, as she had been sleeping in the crook of his arm. He is pretty sure she has no clue she would end up that way once her eyes closed, on the other side of the carriage. But she had turned and he found himself with her head on him. This is fine as it allowed him to hold her, which is also strange.
The desire of wanting to simply hold a lady has never fallen over him. Not even once, but he does her. Among all the feelings she stirs, the feeling of protectiveness is one of the strongest. Before he was a Duke, he was the king's bodyguard. He knows protection. Protector and defender of the crown. But who has protected his wife? Who has shielded her from all the things that make her sad? Who has saved her from arrows of loneliness or swords of inferiority?
Her long eyelashes fluttered on her eyes until they opened. "Mary, we're almost at the journey's end. Over the next horizon is Westhrope Hall. You have a direct view out the window on your side of the carriage. I thought you might like to see it," he spoke with a soft voice.
She sat up feeling embarrassed her head had been laying on his side. There is nothing she could do about that now. Her hands went to her hair and being putting strays behind her ears. After smoothing out her gown, her eyes turned to glance out the side window. It was still twilight time.
Gazing out the window she took in her surroundings. There is not much to see, yet. A bunch of woods, but then the view changed. Her new home came into her line of sight. It made her heart speed up and her stomach twine itself again. Even though they were far away, she could see it clearly.
The structure is nothing short of magnificent. A true masterpiece. Tall towers, sweeping vines, oversized windows to match the considerable shrubbery, and sporadic sculptures lined along the dirt road. She has lived in a rundown old castle, but her husband lives in a stately manor home with a huge expanse of land surrounding it. To put it bluntly, it's nice and she can see herself living a comfortable life here.
Turning back to him, she gathered her wits about her. The upkeep of the estate is entangling her mind with the knots in her stomach. Nonetheless, "Your home is truly impressive. I promise to devote my time to its care." Her words are true.
He expected she would say nothing less. "Thank you," he stated. In an effort to hold her hand, he slid his pinky finger to where hers is resting on the seat. He looked at her face and saw her bashful but beautiful smile. Then he slid himself over, took her hand into his own, and began pointing different things out on the road in. He is proud of his home, even if he did not appreciate it when it was first given to him.
With her hand in his, his breath on her neck, and his silky voice in her ear, the air started to change. It began to hum again with charged energy. Her heart sped up and something heady sparked in her belly and grew to life. Something she has never felt before. It invigorated her awareness of him and ignited a fire in her feelings.
She had never been so happy for a carriage to stop. If she had to stay in the confined space with this charming man any longer, her mind and her judgment might be lost. Once it pulled to a full stop, her husband got out and came around to help her do the same. His hand extended and she took it with ease to step down.
A pack of hunting dogs greeted them. Charles petted everyone. She knew not what to think about the dogs, as she has never had one for herself. Regardless there happened to be a cute brown spaniel that wormed its way to her feet. It looked up at her with its sad dog eyes as if begging her to pet it. In a show of emotion, she bent down and petted the creature. It then licked her face and nudged its head under her hand to be stroked again. Despite the ill-mannered lick, she gave the animal her attention a final time.
"He likes you. He's the youngest of the group, not nearly a year old," Charles remarked. He had thought he might have to shoo the dog away, especially after it licked her. But he did not and was happy to see she doted on him again. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat animals because they are likely to do the same with people. This is another instance of her true character showing.
With a smile, she told him "He's a pretty dog." Charles led her inside. She surveyed the entrance and admired the grandeur of the manor. Her father treats his favorites well, which she clearly is not one of. It makes her a little sad to think that.
An older slim lady with salt and pepper hair made her way to the entrance. This must be Lady Ashdown, his beloved keeper of the house. She put on a cloak of friendliness. Of all the people in the house she needs to befriend and gain the trust of, this is the most important one.
"Oh, My Lord. You are home and we are so glad for your return," Lady Ashdown declared. Then she turned to the new lady of the house. Knowing she is the niece of her previous lady, her hawkish eyes studied the girl with caution and wariness. How she has prayed this one would be worthy. "My Lady welcome to Westhrope Hall. We have been looking forward to your arrival."
Charles introduced his wife. "My Lady Wife, this is my housekeeper and former governess Lady Ashdown."
Nodding, Mary addressed her personally. She has noticed the woman's hesitant expressions. "Lady Ashdown it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am humbled to be here and look forward to discussing with you the running of the estate. I hope to learn all about it from you."
Lady Ashdown stood floored and sputtered out "Of course My Lady. I welcome the discussion any time." If her Ladyship's words are true then praise the Lord. And then she observed the Duke's face. His eyes sparkled, his face glowed, and his mouth smiled. He seems content. She has never seen him look at a woman the way he does this one, not even the first lady of the house. It is clear he admires his wife. This makes her old bones happy. How she has worried he would never settle down for good. Now she might be able to worry less.
With an effervescent smile, Charles let Lady Ashdown know of their plans. He explained, tired from the journey, how they are going to have a lie-down. "We will take lunch before we explore the estate. Please make sure Thomas knows, so my horse will be saddled and ready." He turned to his wife. "Do you ride My Lady?" He saw her nod again and told his housekeeper "Have him saddle the black mare. She's gentler."
After that, he took Mary's hand and led her into the heartbeat of the home. Up a set of stairs they went. The stairs split in two directions. He spoke as they walked, "If you go in the opposite direction, it will take you to the other side of the manor. Lady Willoughby stays there. Our side is this way."
Servants and maids lined the halls and greeted them, all anxious to meet their new lady. Mary spoke to each of them on the way to her new quarters. The pair reached their wing and Charles remembered how she wants to share a room. So he led her to the door of his chambers. Before he opened the words "This is my room, our room" came out of his mouth.
As his hand went to turn the knob, she stilled it. "Would you mind if I lied down in the room you had prepared for me?" She saw his expression change, somewhat, and thought to tell him "But only for right now. Tonight I would like to join you."
It would be a lie to say he was not disappointed because he is. But then this might be a good thing in disguise. Having her next to him now, after being so close to her on the journey, would make him want to do certain things that she might not be ready for. "It's fine. Shall I have your things put in my room?"
"Yes, please. But I would like to have my dress trunk in the room with me, for now. I want to change from this dress," she explained. It's much too cumbersome to move about in.
He nodded his agreement and instructed the servants carrying the trunks. Then he saw her to the door and massaged her hand before he placed a kiss on it. They exchanged soft smiles as she entered the room. It left her wanting a real kiss from him and wondering what that would be like. A dreamy expression fixed her face, while she inspected the area. Bright and airy and open. There is also an air of pretension. She assumed it must be leftover from her late aunt.
Opening her trunk, she pulled out a nude floral embroidered tulle dress. At the embroidery she laughed lightly, remembering the conversation with Charles. She did not embroider any of the red flowers on this garment, thank goodness. A maid helped her put it on and take her hair down. Her hair fell in waves. She had the maid put the barrette in the top of it and fluff it out some. She gave her approval and thanks before the maid left. Now she is on her own.
One of the reasons she did not want to lie down with Charles is because her mind is busy. She knew she would be unable to rest. What she really wants is to speak with Lady Ashdown about the house. As she was walking up the stairs, she detected a few things that need tending to. On her surveillance of the room, she saw a small desk off to the side. Hope grew that it would be stocked with paper, quill, and ink.
Pulling out a chair, at the desk, she began opening drawers. In one drawer she found parchment. In another, there is ink and a fine quill. Dipping the quill in the ink, she began making a list. The list grew long and feasibly manageable.
When the last word was written, she returned the quill to the pot and picked up the parchment. Then with care, she left the room and walked down the hall. Now came the task of remembering the way to go. God willing she would not become lost. How awkward that would be. Plus she can see Charles now, laughing.
Her feet carried her in the right direction because she came to the split staircase. Going down she met another maid, with red hair, who curtsied to her. Mary asked where she could find Lady Ashdown. The red-haired maid, whose name is Joan, had her follow. Joan took her to the dining room, where she bid her ladyship sit.
Sitting, Mary admired the splendor of the room. It's a lovely room, but yet it's missing something. How she wishes she had the quill. In a flurry of skirts, Lady Ashdown arrived. Mary could sense the woman is flustered.
With nervous tension, she moved to sit at the table with her new lady. The housekeeper spoke. "My Lady, I thought you were lying down after your long journey. Is everything alright?"
Wanting to chuckle, but not doing so, Mary instead gave her a gracious smile. "Lady Ashdown everything is perfectly wonderful. I actually could not sleep and did not want to lie down. My mind is firing away. I took the time to create a list. Do you have a moment to spare to talk with me?"
A list?! Good heavens, what could her new lady have on this list? "Of course, I have the time. You must be parched and hungry. Stay right here. I shall return." Lady Ashdown left in a hurry. Mary did not have time to even think because the woman returned in the same manner as she left—- hurried. A bowl of fruit was set on the table. Then a servant entered carrying a tray, which he set in front of Her Ladyship, along with a goblet of water.
Mary thanked the man and took a sip of the drink. It refreshed her. Taking up her list, she turned again to Lady Ashdown. "Lady Ashdown, may I inquire as to your given name?"
The older lady became curious as to why Her Ladyship wanted to know. "My name is Agnes, My Lady."
With her smile still on her face, Her Grace responded. "Would it be alright, when it's just us two if I addressed you as Agnes? I would do the same with my governess. I would call her Margaret and she would call me Mary. I hope we would be able to do the same. When it's just us, of course." She knew the woman would most likely rather die of shame than do such a thing, but she also hopes they can be friends.
Mary was correct in her assessment. Lady Ashdown knew the importance of manners. She tried to teach them to Charles. However, there is a kindness, a warmth of character in his new wife. Sweetness and sincerity. So she agreed to this. "Alright then, when it's just us we will speak informally. Now Lady Mary, tell me about your list."
Relief flooded her. One hurdle has been crossed. Now for the list. "I wrote down a few things I would like to alter in the house. I hope you will find them acceptable. And please Lady Agnes tell me the truth about them. If they are too frivolous let me know. The first thing that I think would liven up the house is adding fresh flowers in every room." She began going through each item.
As Her Ladyship spoke, Agnes Ashdown felt relief of her own. The house has a true lady living in it. A lady who values the small things that make a house a home, and also makes it appealing. Praise the Lord! She is so happy she could cry.
Her old Ladyship, God rest her soul, was not at all interested in the keeping of the house. She frittered her time away with trivial pursuits and vain purposes. And don't even get her started with the treatment of His Grace. That is another matter entirely. Speaking directly to her new lady, Agnes wondered, "Lady Mary what are your thoughts on the draperies?"
She had not thought on them. Her eyes now took them in. Oh my. Her nose wrinkled. "May I speak frankly?"
"Oh please do," Lady Agnes said. She can tell the girl has the same sentiments as her own.
Standing, she pushed her chair back and went over to the drapes. Mary ran a hand down the length of them. "They are too heavy for this room and the colors make it darker than it should be. Plus they are just... a bit gaudy." There she said it. They are tacky. The valance is all wrong and the tassels are too... tassely.
Lady Agnes stood and made her way to Her Grace. "You and I are going to be fast friends. I agree with you. I tried to tell His Grace's old wife that they were wrong for this room, but she had a mind of her own. Then she put them in every room downstairs."
Oh, Lord. Her aunt did such a thing? As she reflected upon her late aunt, she recalled the dresses she wore and her personality. Yes, her aunt would do such a thing. "We need to add the drapes on the list. Are there other things I should know about?"
Chuckling, Lady Agnes took hold of Mary's arm. "Dear girl there are many things not on your list. Allow me to show you some." The two of them began walking around the manor, stopping every once in a while to look at something or other. Then they made their way out of doors to the back of the house. "And just look at the gardens! What are your thoughts about them?"
Taking the gardens in, Mary cringed. The yard is overgrown with weeds and such. They're sucking the life out of the space. It is obvious it has not been tended to and has seen better days. This will be another project to undertake. "They need to be revamped as well. My, I feel intimidated by all of the tasks the house needs. But with your superior help, I know we can do it. And Lady Dot will be glad to help too." In their walk, she had told Lady Agnes about Lady Dorothy.
But there is one thing further she wants to know. "Lady Agnes would you be so kind as to tell me about His Grace. You have known him since infancy. Are there things he dislikes that I should be aware of? These plans that I have, would he take displeasure in them?"
Her new lady began to endear herself when she took an interest in the running of the house. Now that she inquires as to Charles, well, she has highly esteemed herself. She bid the two of them sit down on a stone bench. Their heart-to-heart began with "His Grace is a handsome man capable of deep love and affection. He has not had the correct lady to draw it out of him." When she emphasized the word correct, her eyes bore into her new mistress of the house. She continued on telling His Grace's mannerisms and likes, as well as dislikes.
Mary sat captivated as she listened to Lady Agnes speak. Everything the woman says she filed away in her mind, to draw upon at later times. And the more the lady said, in regards to her husband, she appreciated.
While the lady of the house was learning and listening, the man of the house rose from his lie in. He washed and dressed, then went to check on his wife. Knocking lightly on the door, he twisted the knob and went inside. Only he did not find her. "Mary," he called. When he got no response he walked down the hall, briefly scanning the way to see if maybe she was in a different room. But she isn't.
Downstairs he came across a maid and asked where he might find his wife. The maid directed him to the gardens. He spied her sitting on a bench talking with Lady Ashdown. Both of them wore smiles on their faces and Mary threw her head back and laughed. It filled him with warmth to see her happy and getting on with the woman who's most like his mother. With interest, he wondered what they were discussing.
His hand went to his hair to smooth it down. Walking outside, Lady Ashdown saw him before Mary did. He put a finger to his mouth asking her to be quiet. He plucked a late-blooming peach-colored rose from a bush and came around the bench to present it to Mary. "A rose for my Tudor rose," he exclaimed.
She took it from him and brought it up to her nose. It smells divine. She expressed her thanks. "Thank you, My Lord." But his mention of her family's flower and symbol gave her an idea. Raising her eyes to Lady Agnes, she commented "We need to ask the royal gardener for cuttings of the Tudor roses. We can plant them in the new gardens."
Charles's eyebrows rose at the words new gardens, while Lady Ashdown stated "Right we should. I will take my leave now. My Lady, I enjoyed our time together and I welcome all of your wonderful ideas. When you think of others let me know. Lunch will be shortly." She stood and bid them a good day.
Sitting beside Mary, Charles asked "How was your rest? I came looking for you, but did not see you."
Inclining her head to him, Mary plucked the thorns off the rose. "I wouldn't know. I actually did not lie down. Instead, I made a list of ideas for the manor. Then found Lady Ashdown to speak with her about them."
So she has been busy while he slept. "Good. And what changes do you want to make?" He hopes it is not drastic. Some of the changes Margaret made were. So much so that it rendered different parts of the home unrecognizable. Plus there is the cost to think about. He doesn't want to waste money on frivolity if it isn't needed. However, he does not think this wife has an ounce of irresponsibility in her.
"Just small changes here and there. Like the adding of fresh-cut flowers in all of the rooms or changing the draperies to make it more light and airy. Nothing too extreme except for the gardens. They need special attention," she disclosed.
His eyes looked out over the grounds. They are suffering and in a state of neglect. Now that he's aware of the problem it shames him. "Alright. Whatever you need let me know and I will acquire it. As for financials, you have my permission to spend what you think is best. I trust you not to spend us into poverty."
He trusts her with his money? She thought she would have to spend her own meager funds on the projects she will undertake. Furthermore, most men give their wives a monthly sum. Does he not want to do that? "You can give me a monthly sum, as most men do. I am sure it will be sufficient enough," she suggested.
Her actions thus far prove she is trustworthy. So, "No. I trust you." His eyes locked with hers. He studied his wife and took her in. She looks comfortable and relaxed, as well as unconscious of her own beauty. He felt prompted to say "Use some of the money for yourself as well. I'm sure you need new dresses and other such things."
She felt lightheaded in his presence. He seems to do that to her and he always catches her off guard. How do you express your thanks to someone somewhere in the middle of love and friendship? She knows not, but decided to scoot herself over to him.
His breath caught in his throat as she slid closer. He wonders what she will do, for he knows what he would like to do. Then his heart skipped a beat as she leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek. He could feel his face flush, as hers did the same. Before she could retreat into herself, behind her moat and high walls, he took his hand and caressed it through her hair. Leaning down he brushed his lips over the spot he wants to kiss on her forehead. He did it in a gentle, tender manner. As soon as his lips planted themselves there, he felt her shiver. He caressed her cheek and pulled back, slowly exhaling a pent-up breath.
Words left unsaid of things they don't know how to express. But they both know a foundation is being laid. They're in the middle of something and Charles knows to rush it would be a painful death. So he stood and offered his hand, with the words "Lunch, then a tour." She took it and walked by his side into the house.