by Abby Ayles
She did not particularly feel like braving the cold floor and wrapped herself in a coverlet before gingerly dropping her feet onto the floorboards. As expected, they were cold. She darted to the letter and rushed back into bed again, drawing the coverlet tightly around her as she inspected the letter.
It was from Duke Godwin. Addressed to her personally. And yet... she could not bring herself to open it. She wanted so very much to see him again, to talk to him again, to make sure he knew that she valued him and intended to marry him. And it was for that reason that she could not possibly see him. After all, if she did she was sure to break her promise to Cecilia.
And if she opened that letter... then she was sure to want to see him again.
She wondered if her mother had seen the letter, but then concluded that, as it was unopened, she could not have. Lady Byrd would not let Antoinette see such news without her there to keep an eye on affairs.
Another knock at the door caused her to scramble, shoving the letter beneath her pillows for safekeeping. She would read it with a clearer head later. “Yes?” she asked.
“Mr. Perry is visiting,” her mother's cheerful voice rang. “Please make sure that you are dressed promptly, as he will be here in but an hour.”
“I am not feeling well,” Antoinette lied.
“Oh, honey, a little socializing won't hurt, surely? You looked fine last night,” her mother insisted.
“It's not that, I have an awful headache. I would like to stay in my room for today and get some rest,” Antoinette replied.
She heard a frustrated huff at the other side of the door. “Very well, I suppose we can make an exception.”
Antoinette waited until her mother's footsteps had disappeared before getting up and finding her hairbrush. She returned to her warm bed to comb her hair, rather than sit at the dresser. She knew she ought to make an effort. At least to see these men and speak to them. She knew that, at the end of the day, she would have to marry someone. But, for now, she could not bear to face a suitor. All her romantic hopes had been shattered like glass. And, although she clung firmly to her belief that her sister was exaggerating, she had to acknowledge that the fairy tales and her own dreams were exaggerated also.
She needed to stop and to think. To work out exactly where the truth could be found. Until then, the prospect of marriage was ludicrous. How could she commit so strongly to something she didn't even understand?
A knock came at the door again. “Your hot water, Mistress. And there was another letter for you,” the maid said.
“Come in,” Antoinette replied grudgingly. Were it not for the hot water, she would have asked for the letter to be slid under the door again. But she was nowhere near as melancholy as Cecilia, and had no intention of giving up her invigorating morning wash.
The maid walked in, put down the jug of water, and handed Antoinette the letter before she went to task mixing some hot soapy water in the basin.
Antoinette knew with a glance at the envelope that it was from Lucy. That handwriting was unmistakable. She tore the letter open and began reading:
“My dearest Antoinette,
I was so sorry to hear your sister was not well, and I trust that at the time of receiving this she is much better and you are happily at home once again. I hope that your suitors are understanding of your family circumstances, especially Duke Godwin. I have always believed it to be the mark of a good woman that she puts family high in her priorities, only after God, and I pray that these men see the same sense. And if they do not? Then they are probably not prepared to marry.
I shall be returning in the next week, and cannot wait to talk with you about all that has happened in my absence. I hope my parents make choices on my behalf that are as excellent as the choices your parents are making for you.
Your friend always,
L.F.”
Reading the letter brightened her day a little, and gave her an idea. She would talk things out with her friend and her cousin. They would surely be able to reassure her of the goodness of marriage and how wonderful it would be to marry Duke Godwin. Her sister may be disillusioned, but her friend's naïve optimism and Mary's happiness would surely ease her fears and inspire her to seek the best marriage arrangements possible.
Chapter 13
Mary looked tired, but otherwise happy. She was finally back in Duke Godwin's manor again, and happy to see Antoinette and catch up. She and Duke Haskett had been travelling around the country, visiting relatives and attending balls and soirées, the entire time Antoinette had been away. Antoinette was not quite sure how her cousin did it.
“Sleeping in a coach or an inn even three nights leaves me utterly exhausted,” Antoinette remarked. “I cannot imagine how it must feel not to sleep in your own bed for over two weeks in a row.”
Mary shook her head a little. “It is tiring, but I'm getting used to it. I suppose this is what happens when you marry a Duke. He's frightfully popular.”
“That is along the lines of what I wanted to ask you, actually,” Antoinette began. “After talking to my sister I have some... slight... little nagging doubts about... marriage.”
Mary just stared a few seconds. “Doubts?”
Antoinette nodded sternly. “Yes... It sounds so daft, but... Well, Cecilia warned me about marriage. Said it would not be a good idea. And even though I do not think she is right that all marriages are bad, I know that it cannot be the case that all marriages are good either.”
“Well, marriage is not what they say in fairy tales, that is for sure. But it is not as bad as Cecilia would have you believe,” Mary replied. “For instance, had I not married Duke Haskett, I would not be so utterly exhausted today. I would not have quite so many duties come Christmas. But these are small sacrifices compared to what I gain. I have a loving husband, a place in society, the means to live well, and...”
“And?” asked Antoinette.
Mary leaned in with a slight conspiratorial smile. “And a baby on the way.”
Antoinette blinked, then let out a slight squeal which she muffled behind her hand. She took a deep breath before daring to remove her hand. “A baby? Are you sure?”
“Most positive,” Mary said, beaming.
“Congratulations. Does anyone else know yet?” Antoinette felt a wave of excitement wash over her. This was wonderful news. The Duke and Duchess of York would be having a child, their first child...
“No, only yourself,” Mary replied.
“And Duke Haskett?” Antoinette suggested.
Mary giggled a little. “Not even he. I intended on telling him tonight but... I could not help but tell you. Especially given your crisis. This baby is a huge part of my point. I may be busy, and tired, and a little nauseous. But the baby will bring me joy in the long term. Indeed, it is already bringing me joy and it is not yet here. And marriage is a little bit like that.”
“There are downsides, but the upsides make up for them?” Antoinette asked hesitantly.
Mary nodded. “Exactly. It is not all sunshine and roses. But it is so good.”
Antoinette paused. “And what of Cecilia? She does not feel her positives outweigh her negatives.”
“I cannot say for sure, as I have not seen her myself. But it is entirely possible that she is overlooking the positives due to her present state of mind,” Mary replied.
“I have seen her. They are in financial ruin, and their children are staying with John Campbell's aunt, who can afford a nanny,” Antoinette replied with her head down.
“They still have one another, and they have two beautiful children,” Mary replied. “She may be miserable, but she had great reasons not to be. And you will have great reasons not to be miserable too.
“But what if I do end up like Cecilia?” Antoinette replied in a hoarse whisper. “What if that is my destiny?”
“It is nobody's destiny to be miserable, it is a choice,” Duke Haskett replied as he walked in through the door.
Antoinette blushed. “How long have you
been there?” she asked.
“But a moment,” Duke Haskett said. “Are you not going to call me 'Your Grace'?”
“Do you want me to?” Antoinette asked.
“Heavens no,” he said, “but everyone seems to call me by my title around the holidays, so I would not like you to miss out if you do not wish to.” He sat down beside Mary. “What exactly were you ladies discussing?” he asked.
“Maybe it was a private conversation,” Antoinette replied.
“Maybe you ought to close doors for private conversation,” Duke Haskett countered.
“We were simply talking about the trouble my sister Cecilia is having in her marriage,” Antoinette explained. “She is becoming disillusioned in it.”
“Then that is her choice,” replied Duke Haskett. “There is no doubt many women in worse circumstances than Lady Campbell, who are still grateful for their lives.”
“I suppose so...” Antoinette conceded. “I just fear I may find myself in a similar predicament if I do not choose wisely.”
Mary reached over and held her cousin's hand. “Then make sure that you choose wisely.”
On her way home, Antoinette was still not sure what to think, or feel about the situation. But she knew that she had no choice regarding marriage. Unless she were to become a nun... She dismissed the idea shortly after having it. If she was considered to be too rebellious and loud to be a good wife, then how could she possibly be a good nun?
She had to marry. That was how she would remain dignified, lead a good life, and, hopefully, protect her family against any future circumstances such as those suffered by her sister. She could not afford to be a source of further trouble. She had now confirmed what she had known all along. She had to marry, but she also had to try and remain calm and collected about her marriage prospects, so as to make a wise decision.
She did not like this at all. It was not in her nature to try and be so cold and logical about things. And she had never in all her books heard of a heroine who was guided by calculus instead of her heart. But it was what she needed to do, to protect herself and her family from ending up like Cecilia.
When she got home the house was a flurry of activity. A coach awaited outside the door, as inside servants raced back and forth preparing coats, taking curry combs out to brush the horses, and ensuring that everything was neat and tidy.
Her parents were standing in the front room, dressed to go out. Her father turned and smiled at her. “Ah, we were wondering when you would return.”
“As you requested, we have found you another few suitors,” her mother began. “And one of them, a very eligible man by the name of Sir Dodge, whom we will be visiting today.”
Antoinette nodded. “I suppose I ought to get changed, then,” she remarked, looking down at her fairly plain day dress.
“Please do,” her father replied, “and be quick.”
Antoinette rushed upstairs to find a more suitable dress, and braced herself for the evening ahead. It all felt so suddenly thrust upon her. She wondered whether this was on purpose, to test her willingness to court and marry, or whether Sir Dodge truly was such a remarkable prospect that he was worth the sudden change in schedule.
She was dressed faster than she had ever managed to get dressed before, and was soon accompanying her parents out the door. “What is this Sir Dodge like?” she asked.
“Do you not recall?” her mother asked. “We spoke of him when we were discussing the different potential suitors you could have.”
“But we spoke of so many,” Antoinette replied.
Her mother let out a slight sigh as they got into the coach. “Sir Dodge is a local knight, not like Sir Elridge who inherited his title, but a man actively knighted himself. He is not currently of great wealth or status, but he is the last of his line and therefore stands to inherit a great fortune from his parents and uncles.”
Antoinette nodded. She wanted to know more about him. His eye colour, his taste in music, his views on travel and adventure... But that was for novels, not for real life. In real life, what mattered was not who he was, but what he would be able to do for her and for her parents.
Sir Dodge seemed like a good man in the way that breakfast at half past noon seemed like a good idea. There was nothing about him which ought to be offensive, but Antoinette could not shake the feeling that something was most definitely wrong.
He was a man of average height and build, and a little younger than most of her suitors, possibly even her same age. His brown hair and blue eyes were plainly English, and truly plain. He spoke with a slightly affected accent, but was nothing but courteous and calm as he greeted them and welcomed them into his home personally.
His house was nowhere near the size of the home where Antoinette's peers lived. It was even smaller than Cecilia and John's house. And yet, it was richly extravagant in every other detail. The door knobs were crystal, the wallpaper was finely detailed, and the curtains were exquisitely velvety. The furniture was heavy and comfortable, and everywhere Antoinette could spy imported ornaments and animal pelts. If a single additional item had been added to the rooms, they would have seemed cluttered, but Sir Dodge was keeping his decoration on the brink of excess and no further.
As they sat down around a large dining table in an oddly warm conservatory, the servants marched in, depositing dish after dish of food. A further two servants stood by the table and began lifting the dishes, presenting them to each guest in turn.
Antoinette was more than impressed. Although she still felt uneasy about him, she had to admit he had everything the romance books said he ought to. He was young and handsome, well-spoken and polite, wealthy and decadent. He checked every box. It was just that somehow all these features came together and left behind a strange aftertaste which Antoinette could not make sense of.
“So, Antoinette, please do tell me a little about yourself,” asked Sir Dodge before raising his wine glass to his lips.
“I am not sure... what would you like to know?” she asked back.
“I suppose we ought to start somewhere... What do you think of the food?” he asked her.
She nodded. “What I have tried is very good.”
He nodded back. “Indeed, I have a French chef who knows exactly what he is doing. What books do you read?”
“A lot of romances and other women's nonsense,” Antoinette replied. “What do you read?”
“Ah, ah, I ask the questions,” Sir Dodge replied. “What do you gain from reading such novels?”
“I suppose it is simply a little fantasy,” she said cautiously.
Antoinette had not encountered a man like this before, not in person or in her books, and she was not exactly sure what to make of him. He was everything he ought to be, and yet nothing like he ought to be. As they spoke over dinner, Antoinette slowly felt drawn towards him. He was not as perfect as Duke Godwin, but he was definitely a man of a similar quality. She felt bad for doubting her parents. Clearly they were thinking about what was best for her, or they would not have succeeded in finding her such a perfect suitor. What was more, although her parents were acting a little oddly, they seemed to like Sir Dodge. And if their judgement ranked him as a good option, then her judgement would too.
As the servants cleared the places, Sir Dodge glanced towards the door. “I don't suppose we could go for a walk, to aid in digestion?” he proposed.
Lord Byrd nodded. “That is a splendid idea. Perhaps we could walk back down to our home, and you could stay for a cup of tea.”
Antoinette felt a little uncertain again as they walked down the lanes towards her home. She couldn't help but wonder why Sir Dodge wanted to do this. She did not mind a walk. But she had never been invited to walk back to her own home after a meal. It felt a little peculiar. But it was at least efficient, as opposed to a walk in the garden followed by a coach ride home. She was in two minds as to whether she liked the idea or not.
But everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. That is, until they got to Ant
oinette's house, at which point the mood shifted slightly. Walking back down the path was Mr. Perry. He smiled and waved slightly at the group as he approached them.
“I was just visiting,” he said, “but I was told you had gone for lunch. I assumed you may be some time, so I was on my way.”
“I am so glad we bumped into you,” Lord Byrd replied. “Please, come in and have a cup of tea with us.”
Mr. Perry glanced at Sir Dodge and shook his head. “No, no, you appear to have company. I would not like to intrude.”
“It is no intrusion at all. Please, do stay for a drink,” Lady Byrd insisted.
“Well... I suppose if you do not mind,” Mr. Perry replied.
“Not at all,” said Lord Byrd, “having a good friend like you with us is always a pleasure.”
Antoinette locked eyes with Mr. Perry as they walked back to the house. He smiled a soft, genuine smile and she felt relaxed. It would be good to be in the company of a nice gentleman, without any pressures to act ladylike or impress him.
Sir Dodge, on the other hand, did not appear to be impressed with Mr. Perry's presence. He went from the chatty, happy man he had been over lunch to a little withdrawn and sullen, watching Mr. Perry out of the corner of his eye, scrutinizing his every movement and word.
Antoinette could not help but notice this, and cast a few smiles towards Sir Dodge, asked him a few questions, anything to draw him back into the conversation. But he responded briefly, and seemed more concerned with analysing the Byrds and Mr. Perry than with making an impression.
Eventually, he stood up and straightened his waistcoat and shirt a little. “I suppose I ought to start my walk back home.”
“Oh no, please do stay a while longer,” Lady Byrd said. “Your company has been most wonderful.”
“Thank you, but I have matters which I must attend to. It has been wonderful to be in your company also, I assure you.” He turned to face Antoinette. “And as for you, Miss Byrd, I would love to see you again, sometime soon. Perhaps this weekend?”
