Marriage by Proxy

by Cathy Duke

  Chapter 6

  Brightmore Manor, 1830

  Two days later Amy was finally up and dressed and ready to take a tour of the house with Millie and Mrs. Tanner, the housekeeper. Mrs. Tanner was a nice middle-aged lady that had the strength and character to run this huge house with all the servants to direct. She had a huge ring of keys hanging from her waist that jingled noisily to announce her presence. She could open any cabinet or door in the house. Closets that contained the silver were locked and she explained that the silver was counted once a month. She took Millie and Amy through all three floors of the house showing them beautifully decorated bedrooms for guests and introduced them to servants that scurried about doing their jobs polishing and dusting like well-trained soldiers. The house gleamed with bees wax and cleaning detergents. Some of the servants were cleaning silver, others on ladders wiping away non-existent spider webs from tall ceilings and lamps.

  Arden had introduced the servants to her before the tour and then Mrs. Tanner took them both under her wing to show what all these servants did. She told Amy that she would look to her to approve the menus for meals and schedules for certain cleaning jobs. It was so much to take in all at once, but Amy let Mrs. Tanner know that she would look for guidance from the experienced woman and that brought a broad smile of admiration from Mrs. Tanner. Then they were taken through the kitchen where cook was baking some of His Grace's favorite dishes. It was obviously a well-run house. Finally as they came to one of the receiving rooms, Mrs. Tanner stopped and ushered them into a beautiful room with heavy brocade drapes of pink and white roses, dainty Victorian chairs upholstered in different velvets of pink, green and burgundy some with pattern of roses and some plain. Vases of red, pink and white roses from the garden adorned the marble side tables. The Persian rug was flowered giving the room a very feminine touch.

  “Your Grace and Miss Balston, please be seated. This room is the ladies receiving room. I shall have tea brought in with some little pastries that are a favorite of His Grace. You both must be tired from our tour. It is after all, a large house.” Mrs. Tanner bowed to Amy and left the room to them.”

  “Oh, Amy. It is so grand,” Millie gushed as she looked around and admired the beautifully decorated room. They both sat and smiled at each other like they were still in school together. “His Grace is so handsome and nice,” Mille cooed. “He thanked me for taking care of you. That was so thoughtful. Are you not glad you are married to such a fine man, Amy?” Millie eagerly asked with her usual energy and happiness.

  “I am fortunate, indeed. A ladies maid of my own…that is a new experience,” Amy said in agreement. “I am happy you also had a maid to aid you and I know that it was a generous gesture of His Grace,” she added smiling at her friend.

  “We both had serviceable gowns we could easily handle ourselves all these years or ask each other for help. What a nice luxury this had been for me, an orphan. It is a bit overwhelming,” Millie added.

  A maid came in with a tray of tea and special cakes. She set the tea service down on a table between them.

  “I shall act the duchess and pour. How do you take your tea, Millie? With drinking coffee all these years…I don't know your preferences.” They giggled like school girls.

  ****

  A maid gave Amy a message one morning as she was dressing. She was putting on one of her sturdy muslin dresses, part of her very sensible wardrobe. She was told that His Grace wanted to see her in his library as soon as she dressed. What could he want to discuss? They still hadn't had their wedding night, but surely he wouldn't want to discuss that, would he? That would be uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't find her desirable. Maybe she was just the “dying wish” that he agreed to fulfill. But she had been agreeable to an annulment and he had refused. She was still learning about Arden. He was busy most days and she would see him at dinner with Millie and Eva. That wasn't much time to get to know a person. She had to admit she wanted to see more of Arden. He made her feel warm and sometimes her blood felt like it could boil with thoughts of him. She wanted to know things like what makes him laugh, what is his favorite fruit, who he admires and why. At the same time there was an overall tension in her body each time she was around him.

  Eva had finally been properly introduced to Amy as Her Grace. Eva had looked up at her father with such big sorrowful eyes and asked if Amy was to be her Mama. Before Amy could speak, Arden had said that it would be a private discussion between His Grace and Her Grace soon. Maybe that was what he wanted to discuss. But that seemed such a trivial thing to discuss. Why couldn't he simply allow the child to call her mama? It was a simple matter, after all. He was still so much of a mystery to her.

  Amy's young maid, Daisy, dressed her hair simply and she was ready to face her husband. She could find no fault in her appearance, although perhaps she should have worn her Sunday church gown which was nicer than her worn practical muslin. But she mustn't keep His Grace waiting. She hurried down two flights of stairs to the library to find Arden behind his desk studying ledgers.

  He looked up to see her at the door and stood. She came in and stood in front of his desk. Arden filled a room with his presence. Besides being tall and muscled, his bearing was that of power. She noticed how his dark hair curled just above his white collar, not quite fashionable, but appealing and somehow right for him. She found herself blushing just being in the same room with him. He was so masculine and there was a presence that caused her stomach to turn over.

  “You asked to see me, Your Grace?” She was out of breath and her words came out husky and not quite her own voice.

  Arden swept his arm to indicate a chair and to be seated. She nodded her head slightly to indicate her acknowledgement of his direction and sat in front of his desk, straightening her skirts and sitting up straight as she was taught in school. His strong masculine carriage was over whelming and made it difficult for her mind not to wander with thoughts of him holding her close to his body. No wonder she had a problem with focus. His presence alone made her brain mush.

  “Good morning Amy. I trust you slept well.” She nodded and smiled as she felt some discomfort at the direction of his greeting. He sat back in his leather chair behind his massive desk. The aged leather made a crinkle sound as he settled watching her face the entire time. “There are some things we need to discuss. By now I hope you've become acquainted with your new home.”

  Her chin came up in a sign of strength and stubbornness in her effort to prepare herself for what might be coming. He was all business it seemed.

  “You have money at your disposal, and I hope you understand that you are empowered to use it…if there are things you need or want, that is, we are wealthy. I want you to understand that you need not want for anything.”

  “You have been very generous, Your Grace,” she offered tentatively, not certain where this conversation was going. For goodness sakes, she lived in a huge mansion. Of course, she knew he was rich.

  “Please, call me Arden…when we are in private.” She nodded as he took a breath of air and let it out slowly gazing at her. Then he looked down at his ledgers as if they held the answer to his next thoughts. It was uncomfortably quiet.

  Amy wasn't certain what to say or how to read him. Then he slowly lifted his eyes and met her glaze. It was intense, so intense that she wanted to shake loose from the dual stare they shared and yet did not want to be the one to break contact. She was stubborn after all. His eyes seemed to burl deep into her soul and see things no one had imaged before. It was definitely uncomfortable. Please, God, she thought, let this be over so I can breathe naturally.

  “I thought perhaps we would have a small informal wedding ceremony. The church in the village of my tenants would be quaint. You could have your friend Miss Balston as your witness.” He still held her gaze and then she broke contact, flushing. What on earth was he thinking?

  “But we are married, are we not?” she whispered so low that she didn't know if he heard her. Goodness, if she could just stop h
er pounding heart and relax. She was even jumpy. She hated her lack of control.

  “Are we?” he said just as softly. She didn't answer. She took a breath, and felt faint. She never fainted but this must be what it felt like. A little dizzy…hard to breathe. Her color washed out from her face and she felt perspiration on her upper lip. He stood and came around the desk to where she sat and took her hand. She was pale and stunned.

  “Your pulse is racing, sweeting,” he said quietly as he held her hand a moment. Her hand was sweaty and she was nervous. “It occurred to me that you might…not feel married. Marriage by proxy is not very personal, don't you agree?” he said as he laid her hand back in her lap and sat down in a chair next to her turning it slightly to face her. He leaned forward until she could feel his breath on her face. “We shall marry with a small intimate ceremony next Sunday. It will be simple and yet help you adjust to the idea of marriage to me. I know it is important to women to have a ceremony.”

  She had been staring at her hands snuggled tightly in her lap, but now glanced up at him to see what expression had been settled on his face. His face was so beautiful, sculptured and angular but kind and sensitive too. Oh, my, but he was good to her. Yet, why did he make her so uncomfortable? Her heart was racing simply by his nearness.

  “That would be nice, I think,” she offered as her only thoughts to him. She was terrified really because this meant he was waiting until the ceremony to make her his wife. It was a thoughtful gesture, really. “Perhaps Eva could take part in the ceremony…”

  “She would like that, very much. With that, I guess it is time to ask you about your feelings in being her mother in every sense…”

  “You know I do not object to having her call me mama.” She said a bit defensively. He looked surprised at the bit of outburst so out of character for her. She had wondered why this simple gesture had become so complicated.

  “I thought it appropriate to discuss it privately first. With her in the room, I worried that you might be cornered on the subject. That is all. I wanted to hear about your feelings on the matter,” he said as he watched for her reaction. “It must have been a shock, after all, to find out I had a child.”

  “I would be pleased for her to call me ‘mama'.”

  He nodded and then it was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. He was relieved there was no problem with his daughter and taking her place in their family.

  “One of London's most acclaimed dressmakers will be here this afternoon and she will stay several days to create a wardrobe for you. She will start with a simple and yet quaint wedding gown. While you were recovering I took the liberty of sizing up your wardrobe. You will need some gowns suitable for your station.” Arden rose and walked to the window looking out a moment before walking around his desk to sit again across from Amy.

  “I…I want to ask if…that is if it suits you…,” she stuttered nervously folding her skirt into pleats as she tried to find the words. God, what a fool she was around him.

  “Please do not be afraid to ask me anything…anything at all,” he offered with reassurance. “I am not an ogre, after all.” He glanced at her face and couldn't help settling his gaze on her lips noting the slight tremble. How he wanted to kiss the uncertainly out of her expression. Assure her that she may speak of anything with him. Damn it, he wanted her to trust him.

  “Millie, can I not offer her a new gown or two for the position she holds as my companion? Her wardrobe is even more stark than mine. At least I had a father who bought me gowns. She has had no one but herself to see to her needs.”

  He was surprised by her simple request. She seemed to think of others before herself and that was a good quality in a person. First Eva and now her friend. It was as if she could not accept a gift without thinking of the others in her life. “Of course. You can make purchases yourself without consulting me. You are the Duchess Brightmore and may buy gowns for your companion and friend if you so choose.” He smiled at her trying to lift her spirits some. He wanted her to be comfortable asking him things or just talking. Actually he wanted her to feel comfortable and at ease making her own decisions. She needed to gain confidence that she could trust him and that he would back her ideas.

  “May I use your library? I love to read,” she asked him casually. He looked surprised again. How good she was at changing the subject once she felt it was finished. He nearly laughed. He hated that she was so nervous and seemingly afraid of him. It was a quality he had that served him well in business, but he didn't want his wife to be uncomfortable around him.

  “Of course. Anytime you wish to use the library…it is yours to use also.” He smiled warmly at her trying hard to ease her discomfort. You may also want to purchase books to your liking…perhaps Jane Austin would be of interest. His eyes were twinkling with some mischief she didn't understand. Perhaps some inside joke.

  “Do you find me amusing? You seem to find my antics laughable.” A little rebellion caught her fancy and it slipped out before she could think.

  “I find you adorable and vulnerable too. I want to protect you. There are so many serious issues I must face, and you are fresh air for me and being around you makes me feel good,” he told her truthfully.

  “I would like to share your serious issues. Would it not be good to be partners in things? I used to help Papa with his record keeping, even some nursing with his patients. I want to be of some use to you. Being a Duchess with no purpose other than ordering the servants around, entertaining and visiting other people of the ton is not a purpose in life. Besides the servants run your home very efficiently without me.” She was passionate with her little speech and Arden watched her face light up unlike any expression she had shared before. He was impressed with her passion and recognized the same feelings himself when he had become a Duke.

  Arden saw his place in life as duty, certainly nothing he would have chosen. His family never saw him in this position either. But he didn't see this position as just a member of the ton with no purpose. Tenants on his properties depended on him. He made decisions about crops, about business and he was responsible for their homes, fixing their roofs and making certain they did not starve serving him. He also was their doctor although this was not common knowledge. He certainly understood well Amy's point of view, especially since she wasn't born to wealth and position.

  Arden didn't care for the most part what the ton thought of him. He had responsibilities and he discovered with doing a little of the manual work himself he understood better the position these people working his land were in. He made better decisions because of it. He liked talking to them and asking them what they thought. Once in a while he learned something from his efforts. “I am impressed, Amy. We are well suited I think. Perhaps your father had a deeper understanding of us than I gave him credit.”

  Amy was watching the changing expressions on his face with interest. He seemed to be thinking over her words. “I hope that I can be of some use to you, Arden.” And she meant it. She wanted to contribute something to feel like she had some value to him.

  “What do you do with your days, Arden?” she asked him.

  He liked hearing her say his given name. It felt more personal and intimate and she said it with a smooth transition of syllables. She was actually interested in what he did during the day. He figured she liked having time with her friend Millie and staying out of his way was sensitive to his feelings…but maybe she wanted to get to know him too. It would be nice to share with someone his challenges and concerns. Before becoming a Duke, he had thought to have a marriage to someone who was interested in actually sharing his life. But he never dreamed it could happen after all that had changed.

  “I actually do things that would keep the tabloids scandalized and the ton would be thrashing me to bits…if they were to know,” he whispered to her so softly as to imply this was a secret.

  “I love a good scandal and I have never experienced a scandal personally,” she said enthusiastically. “I would help you in you
r scandalous behavior, for I am certain it is for some general good,” she added.

  She surprised him again. “Why do you assume it has some good intention?”

  “I have learned some things about you Arden. You are a good person and my father would not have considered you his son if you were not.”

  Arden was so moved he couldn't speak. Other than John no one had trusted or put any faith in him. He stood up and her eyes followed him as he came around his desk and put his hands on her shoulders and drew her up against him. He turned her chin up with his fingers and slowly bent his head down to hers. His warm lips softly brushed hers in a feather like sweep that made her moan. He pulled away slightly to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips still puckered expecting more of that brief experience. He dipped down again this time more firmly capturing her lips and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she took a breath and opened her lips to his. It was an expression of surprise for her, but that was all he needed for encouragement.

  Arden put his arms around her waist and drew her against his broad chest where she fit perfectly. His tongue swept into her mouth. Her arms reached up and she put her hands on his shoulders and then slipped around his neck. One hand swept through his hair and he found himself moaning in pleasure as she stretched her fingers through his thick unruly hair.

  Amy could feel the butterflies in her stomach and a pleasure so intense that she could die of it. He smelled so good and when he kissed her like this that she found herself losing control. She began emulating the same graceful dance with her tongue following his lead. Now, it was he who groaned. He was aroused. He felt like a young randy school boy out of control of his faculties. A simple kiss and he was undone. Amazing.

  Finally she pulled back, her eyes full of passion, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses. “That was….so…good,” she muttered and closed her eyes as she touched her lips with her fingertips. Such an innocent gesture.