Forgotten & Remembered - The Duke's Late Wife

  Without a word, the housekeeper, a mildly sour expression drawing down her eyebrows, helped her undress and slip into her nightgown. The saying Silent as the graves echoed in Rosabel’s mind, and a shiver ran down her back. The room felt like a tomb, and the moment the maid took her leave and closed the door behind her, Rosabel’s hand went to her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

  Sinking into one of the armchairs, Rosabel closed her eyes, focusing all her thoughts on drawing the life-sustaining air into her lunges. How had she ended up in this place? How had her life changed so drastically in a mere fortnight?

  As her gaze fell on the bed, Rosabel instantly looked away, her hands shaking. When would he come to her? Glancing at the door that connected their two bedchambers, Rosabel rose to her feet and, before her nerves could dissuade her, tiptoed across the room, pressing an ear to the door. Everything was quiet on the other side. Her husband was probably still in his study, avoiding her. Should she get under the covers? Should she sit down to read while waiting for him? How much time would he give her before he made his way upstairs? Her aunt’s instructions had not been that detailed, and Rosabel was at a loss.

  After wandering the room, here and there picking up decorative artefacts, turning them in her hands and putting them back down, Rosabel sat down at her vanity, combing out her hair. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman she saw. In a way, her old self had disappeared the second her lips had uttered the words ‘I do.’ Who was this woman who now looked back at her? A stranger? What would her life be like?

  As time ticked by, Rosabel’s mind was tormented by all sorts of questions, and before long, a headache started pounding behind her temples. Placing a wet cloth on her forehead, she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. The thought that her husband might object to finding her this way crossed her mind, but was instantly pushed aside by the tiny spark once more igniting within her. If he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have kept her waiting this long!

  Eyes still closed, Rosabel heard the grandfather clock in the hall chime. Counting the strokes, she found that it was midnight already. What was he doing?

  Annoyed, she snuggled closer into the covers, trying to relax, and before long was fast asleep.

  ***

  Opening the door connecting his chamber to his wife’s, Graham stopped in the door frame when he saw her curled up under the covers. For a moment, he stood there, eyes focused on the sleeping woman upon the bed. Gone was the sour disposition he’d held on to all day. He felt drained, his eyes heavy, not with sleep though.

  All day he had spent fighting the memories that lurked on the horizon. Doing his best to keep them locked up had taken all his concentration, and most of what had passed before his eyes had eluded him.

  Seeing her now, lying there, sleeping peacefully, Graham took a deep breath, fighting down a sense of guilt and betrayal. Her mere presence in this house felt wrong. She ought not to be here.

  Silently taking a step into the room, he looked at her face, dark hair spilling over the pillow. Slowly, Graham unclenched his hands. There was no resemblance. He had chosen well. His new wife would not be a constant reminder of what he had lost. At least he very much hoped so.

  Returning to his own room, he closed the door and retired.

 

  Chapter Five − A Journey Is Announced

  As she never drew the curtains, come morning the warm rays of the early sun touched her face, warming her, and Rosabel awakened with a smile. Her headache was gone, and she rubbed a hand over her face, smoothing back her hair.

  There had been a moment of unaware bliss before her mind reminded her where she was. Looking about the room as though searching for something, Rosabel saw no sign of her husband, concluding that he had never come to her bed. Though grateful beyond expression, she couldn’t help but wonder why. Did he not want an heir? If that hadn’t been the reason for marrying her, then what had? More questions rose, questions to which the answers eluded her.

  Shortly after, a knock on the door sounded, and Rosabel bid them come in in a shaky voice. Relieved, she saw a young woman in a maid’s uniform enter. She curtsied, a warm smile on her face. “Good morning, Your Grace. May I assist you with dressing?”

  Rosabel nodded and slid out of bed. “Thank you. What is your name?”

  “Bridget, Your Grace.” Opening Rosabel’s trunk, standing by the foot of the bed still unpacked, she retrieved a lovely, purple gown, that highlighted Rosabel’s dark hair and fair skin, matching the violet sparks in her hazel eyes perfectly. “I am to accompany you on your journey.”

  “My journey?” Seeing her face in the mirror shift into a frown, Rosabel glanced down as Bridget placed her shoes before her. “What journey?”

  Looking up, Bridget’s eyes narrowed. “The journey to−”

  In that instant, the door flew open and the housekeeper, Mary, rushed into the room. “Make haste!” she called to Bridget, before quickly curtsying to Rosabel, and ushered the maid out the door. Then she turned back, eyes quickly assessing Rosabel’s appearance, and with a hint of disapproval in her expression, said, “Let me escort you to the dining room, Your Grace.”

  Once again, Rosabel followed the sour-looking woman down the stairs to the back of the house towards the gardens. Not even by daylight did her new home look appealing to her. Dark corners remained, and, longing for the company of someone familiar, Rosabel felt her loneliness acutely. This was her first day as Duchess of Kensington, how would she be able to live like this for the rest of her life if she was even now ready to give up?

  A footman opened the door and bowed to her as she entered. Feeling more than just a little uncomfortable at such a treatment, Rosabel gave him a quick smile and stepped toward the long table. Her hands still trembled as she did not see her husband sitting at its head. Nor was there a table setting laid out for him. She spotted only one at the downward end to which the housekeeper beckoned her.

  Taking her seat, Rosabel looked about. “Will His Grace not be joining me?”

  The housekeeper shook her head, gesturing to one of the maids to bring in Rosabel’s breakfast. “His Grace eats at the break of dawn.” After watching the maid’s every move like a hawk, she turned back to Rosabel. “But he requested to see you after you have eaten.”

  Then she left, and Rosabel was left in a room with a maid who barely glanced at her, let alone spoke a word. From the slight tremble in her hands, Rosabel guessed that this was a new position for her as well.

  Forcing every bite down her throat, Rosabel felt her heart hammering in her chest. Would this ever stop? Would she ever feel safe again? Content? Happy even?

  When she finally decided she could not eat another bite without knowing what the duke wished to talk to her about, Rosabel rose from the table. Instantly, the maid approached. “Will you show me to His Grace’s study?”

  The maid paled. “Your Grace, I…I do not know…I mean, I−”

  A smile on her face, Rosabel lifted her hand. “Do not worry yourself. I am sure I will find it,” she said with more confidence than she felt. In a way, she felt better seeing that she was not the only one forced into a new situation that made her hands tremble and the breath catch in her throat.

  Stepping out into the hall, she turned back to the west of the building until she came upon the entry hall where only last night she had said goodbye to her family. Remembering that the duke had walked away toward the west end of the house, she followed his example. As Rosabel set one step before the other, the confidence she had felt only moments before seemed to evaporate into thin air. Her nerves got the better of her again, and by the time she found herself outside a heavy oak door that she suspected led to her husband’s study, her hands were shaking, and the cold of the morning air raised goose bumps on her skin.

  Her knock sounded weak, even to her own ears, and when his voice called for her to enter, Rosabel was ready to bolt. Instead, she took a deep breath and entered, a part of her curious to final
ly exchange words with the man she was married to.

  The Duke of Kensington sat behind a massive oak desk, but stood upon her entering. Bowing slightly, he indicated the chair opposite him and took his own again after she had seated herself. “I bid you a good morning, my lady,” he forced out through slightly clenched teeth, and Rosabel felt reminded of a lion ready to attack.

  “Good morning, my lord,” she replied, her voice wavering.

  His dark blue eyes seemed guarded as he opened his mouth to speak. “My lady, I will be frank. I intend for you to travel to Westmore Manor tomorrow morning. The carriage will depart an hour past daybreak. Ready your things accordingly.”

  Rosabel’s eyes widened. The journey. That’s what Bridget had been talking about. He meant to send her away? But why?

  “Westmore Manor?” she all but whispered.

  “My main residence,” he explained, eyes now focused on her. “About a two-day journey north.”

  Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Rosabel averted her eyes before gathering her courage and lifting her chin again. “Why do you wish for me to go there, my lord?”

  His eyes still fixed on her, he leaned back in his leather armchair, placed his elbows on the armrests, fingers touching as though in deep thought. “Since I am detained by business and shall be for the foreseeable future, I intend for you to act as Lady Georgiana’s guide in every way that she requires.”

  Rosabel’s face settled into a frown. “Lady Georgiana?”

  Staring at her as though trying to read her thoughts, the duke simply said, “My daughter.”

  To Rosabel, his words were like a slap in the face. Her eyes flew open and she stared most unbecomingly back at him. Had this been the reason he’d married her? So she would take care of his child?

  “I expect you to treat her with as much respect and kindness as you bestowed on your cousins.”

  Had he been watching her? Rosabel wondered, feeling her mind zone in and out, trying to focus on something tangible. If he needed someone to take care of his daughter, surely he could have hired a governess. “How long am I to remain at Westmore Manor?” she asked, knowing the answer full well, but needing to hear it nonetheless.

  He shrugged as though she ought to know. “Permanently.”

  ***

  Retreating to her room, though temporary it was, Rosabel once more sank into the armchair under the bay windows. How many more surprises would she have to handle? Would she continue to be moved across the chess board like a pawn? Would it ever be her turn to decide on a move?

  His daughter. He had a daughter. He had been married before. What had happened to his wife?

  Entangled beyond hope, Rosabel’s thoughts raced through her mind, setting the world a-spin. Her eyes closed, hoping to regain some sort of quiet, of balance. But it wouldn’t do. She hadn’t even thought to ask her husband how old the girl was. Was she almost grown up? Or still a child? A babe even? Had her mother died in childbirth? How long ago had it happened? Was this the reason for his cold eyes? Was he grieving?

  Rosabel shook her head. There would be time for all these question later, and hopefully at some point, she would receive some answers. But today, today she had to go see her family. Fortunately, her husband had not denied her this last shred of comfort. If she was to leave the county for good, she had to at least say goodbye.

  The thought of never seeing Ellie again, her friend and confidant, brought fresh tears to her eyes. How was she to go on all by herself? No! Rosabel commanded herself. She would not cry, not now. Now she had to make herself presentable or she would lose the only chance she had of saying her goodbyes and confiding in her friend one last time.

  ***

  As the carriage stopped in front of her uncle’s house, Rosabel could almost imagine that all had been a mere dream. A nightmare from which she had finally awoken.

  Upon entering the front hall, her little cousins flew into her arms, showering her with hugs and kisses. Smiling at them, Rosabel blinked away tears, brushing her hand over their little heads, trying desperately to memorize their faces.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Her aunt strode into the hall, eyes scanning the scene before her. “What are you doing here? Is there a problem?”

  From the tone in her voice Rosabel could tell that her aunt was more concerned for herself and the effect any scandal would have on her family’s reputation than for her niece’s well-being.

  Rising to her feet, Rosabel faced her aunt. “Do not worry yourself. I am only here to bid you goodbye.” Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “My husband sends me to his estate up north. I do not know when I will be returning.” If at all.

  Her aunt nodded. “I see. Well then, have a safe trip.” A curt smile came to her features, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “I am sure you wish to see Elsbeth. She is in the gardens.”

  Rosabel nodded her thanks and strode outside in search of her cousin.

  As expected, she found her sitting in the pavilion, their pavilion, their hiding place, the place where they had spent many hours in their childhood and beyond, sharing secrets and talking about their dreams and fears. These carefree days seemed to have been a lifetime ago.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” Rosabel said as she approached.

  At her cousin’s voice, Ellie lifted her head, and Rosabel saw her eyes were red-rimmed. She had been crying. Worried, she hastened over, putting an arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “Is something wrong? Why are you crying?”

  Brushing away her tears, Ellie tried to smile. “Do not worry, dear cousin. It is nothing. I was only sitting here, remembering all the many days we spent here.” Her eyes swept over their surroundings as Rosabel’s had only a moment before. Then she turned to look at her. “I am going to miss you. I’m going to miss seeing you every day.” Ellie took a deep breath, her smile growing deeper. “I’m being silly. You still live only a moment away. You did not move to the end of the world.”

  At her cousin’s words, Rosabel’s expression turned grave, and she looked away.

  “What’s the matter?” Ellie’s eyes narrowed as she searched Rosabel’s face.

  Taking a deep breath, Rosabel lifted her gaze off the ground. “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but…,” she hesitated until Ellie’s eyes urged her on, “My husband is sending me away.”

  “Sending you away?”

  Rosabel nodded. “To his estate up north.”

  Ellie scooted away a little, facing her cousin with a confused frown on her features. “Why? Is he not going with you? Why would he take up Camden Hall and send you away? That does not make sense!”

  Rosabel shrugged. “Honestly, I understand his motives in this regard as little as I understand his motives in marrying me.” Brushing imaginary lint off her dress, Rosabel continued, “All I know is that he is sending me to his estate because he wants me to…take care of his daughter.”

  The last words flew out of Rosabel’s mouth, and it took Ellie a moment to comprehend them. Then her eyes bulged. “What? He has a daughter?”

  Rosabel nodded, not knowing what else to say.

  “He was married before?” Ellie mumbled as though to herself. “Did you know this?”

  Vehemently, Rosabel shook her head. “I had no idea. But I am guessing that his wife died not too long ago and that his remarrying so soon after her death is only for the sake of his daughter. That is the only thing that would explain why he married me, even though he can’t stand being in the same room with me.”

  “Unbelievable!” Ellie muttered. “Although I feel for him, he is not being fair to you. What are you going to do?”

  A short laugh escaped Rosabel. “What can I do but do as he says? He is my husband now, whether I like it or not. I cannot disobey him.”

  Staring at her friend, Ellie’s eyes once more filled with tears. “So you’re leaving? When?”

  “At daybreak tomorrow.” Sniffing herself, Rosabel brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes. “I do not know
when I will be back. From what he said, I believe I shall never return.” And with that she threw herself into her cousin’s arms, clinging to her as much as Ellie held on herself. Their shared sobs mingled with the joyful chirping of birds and crickets.

  When they drew apart again, dabbing at her eyes, Ellie wondered, “Why would he be so secretive about everything? Why did he not talk to you before his proposal?”

  Rosabel shrugged. “He does not seem to be the kind of man who shares his thoughts with others. He has every right to act this way, and I have no right to question his decisions.”

  “I never thought things would turn out like this,” Ellie said, placing her hand on her cousin’s. “I am still hoping that one day you’ll be happy in this marriage.”

  Rosabel shook her head. “I doubt it.” She forced a smile on her face. “But at least I get to be a mother.”

  “How old is the girl?”

  “I didn’t think to ask.”

  For a second, Ellie’s face remained grave until it suddenly split into a grin. “No matter how old she is before long you will have children of your own. Surely, that is something to look forward to.”

  Feeling herself blush, Rosabel looked down at her hands. “We’ll see,” was all she could mumble.

  “Was your wedding night not to your liking?” Ellie wondered, trying to glimpse at her face. “I hear it is not all that pleasurable for women, but it is our duty and it makes us mothers.”

  Glancing at her cousin, Rosabel didn’t know what to say, wringing her hands to keep busy.

  Ellie shook her head. “Do not say a word if you do not wish to.”

  Grateful, Rosabel smiled at her. She didn’t know what to say, much less want to. While she had been relieved that her husband had chosen not to visit her bridal chamber, this decision, like many others, only brought more questions, more complications. Sure enough, Rosabel was married. But would the only good thing that a woman could hope for in a marriage be denied to her? Would she ever be a mother?

 

  Chapter Six − A New Home

  The carriage seemed to sway in tune with the fields of grass, tall stalks dancing to the symphony of a calm breeze. Everywhere colours grew in intensity as autumn approached on fast heels, painting the world in reds and browns.