Duke of Thorns
Page 11
However, she kept her temper under control. “Well, I would not know about the fashions women of the older generation would wear myself,” Cecilia said in an even tone. “However, I will take your word for it.” Well, perhaps it was completely under control.
The woman only narrowed her eyes slightly, but that was enough for Cecilia to see she had, yet again, pricked the woman’s aplomb. It was quite satisfying, if Cecilia was completely honest with herself.
To make matters worse, Benjamin did nothing to curtail his mother’s harsh words. Instead, he sat in sullen silence. The only time he felt deigned to contribute to any conversation was when he was asked a question directly, and even then he gave only one or two-word responses as a way to answer.
When the day came for the Dowager Duchess to leave, Cecilia made a point of being there to see the woman off. She personally brought down one of the woman’s bags, and the deed did not go unnoticed. Although the woman made no comment, her thinned lips and the tension around her eyes was enough response for Cecilia to understand her disapproval.
As soon as her mother-in-law was gone, Benjamin went straight to his study and closed the door behind him, leaving Cecilia to stare after him. He had not said a single word to her all morning, and she was so furious with him, she had no cause to follow him. If she had, he would have received such a tongue-lashing that, had she used a switch rather than her tongue, he would not have been able to sit for a week.
The following day she made an attempt to speak to him, but he kept his tone cool and his words scalding.
“I cannot believe how rudely you behaved with my mother during her visit with us,” he said in a thin voice.
“I?” she demanded. “The woman had not a single word of affability for me the entire time she was here. Not to mention the way she treated you. Are you so blind as not to see that her words cause not only me pain, but you as well?”
He leaned in, his face threateningly close to hers. “You will not speak of my mother in such a contemptuous manner. She is Duchess Dowager of Thornbrook and demands your respect.”
“And what of me?” Cecilia demanded in a tone as hard as his. “Is my being the current Duchess of Thornbrook not mean anything? Has my title no bearing in this house?” She glared at him when he did not respond. “Apparently not.” And with that, she had left the room.
That had been two days earlier, and now Cecilia sat in front of the mirror as Angie styled her hair for dinner. Cecilia had spent most of her time either in the garden or in her rooms in an attempt to avoid Benjamin. She refused to allow him any other opportunities to make her feel less than she was. Not because she was now a Duchess but because she had never been made to be less than human and she would not allow anyone to do so now. If he wished to allow his mother to trample him like a field full of oxen, then so be it, but she would not give the woman that kind of power over her.
Her mind wandered back to the night when the Dowager Duchess had made mention of Cecilia’s wardrobe, and an idea came to her.
“Angie?” she said, looking at the woman’s reflection in the mirror.
“Yes?”
“How do you feel about going on an outing with me tomorrow?” she asked. “Do you think you can spare a few hours’ time from your work?”
“I suppose I can,” Angie replied. “I’ve some mending to do and your dresses need pressin’, but I guess I can do that anytime.”
Cecilia smiled. “Good. I believe it is time for me to get some new clothes and you are going to help me.”
Angie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “New clothes?” She shot a glance at the wardrobe and smiled. “Well, I have been thinking that your dresses need to be more fashionable, but I’m not one who can make those kinds of comments.”
“Oh, Angie, you know you can say anything you would like to me,” Cecilia said in reply. “If you believe I need newer fashions, then it must be so.”
Angie laughed, though it was a bit nervous. “I say nothing of the sort, Miss,” she said. “I just mean that I agree that you could…that is…oh, I guess I am saying just that.”
Her face turned a deep crimson and Cecilia realized she had gone too far. “I am sorry, Angie. I did not mean to put you in such a position. As I said, you can tell me anything. However, I can see where you commenting on my dresses could be seen as a bit out of line.” She laughed when Angie winced. “No, do not worry. You have done nothing wrong. This is on me.”
Then she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “Or it will be on him,” she said under her breath.
***
Cecilia and Angie spent hours moving from shop to shop, sometimes simply perusing the items available. However, when she did purchase anything, she made sure the bills went under Benjamin’s name. Cecilia had never had so much freedom with money before, but though there was some satisfaction in buying whatever her heart desired, she did not revel in it. As a matter of fact, she found herself questioning why she was even bothering.
When she left the village, she had ordered five new dress, two gowns, and three pairs of shoes and had purchased three sets of gloves, and two sets of various pieces of small clothes, the latter items now packed away in their boxes and tied onto the back of the carriage. However, she had not stopped with clothing alone. The Dowager Duchess had mentioned jewelry, as did Benjamin, so she had stopped off at the jewelers and purchased a necklace with matching earrings and bracelet with deep-blue sapphires that would go wonderfully with the blue dress Benjamin had bought her for the Drameda party.
Cecilia was determined to enjoy the day, thus any misgivings she had for her actions she pushed away. She was a Duchess now and she had every right to live like one. From what she understood, that meant spending exorbitant amounts of money on just those items she had purchased today. Yet, despite having relished in spending Benjamin’s money—her money now, as well—a twinge of guilt continued to plague her. Each time that guilt made attempt to shift to the top of her thoughts, she would argue inwardly and push it back down and out of sight.
By the time she returned to Bantry Estate, she was in a foul mood and even Angie’s attempts to bring her out of it did not good.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Angie asked for the third time as the carriage rumbled up the drive. “You aren’t yourself at all. I figured you’d be happy that you have all these new things.”
Cecilia sighed heavily. “You would think so,” she replied, “but I must admit that I am finding activities like shopping to be a bit lacking in enjoyment. Is this what it means to be a Duchess? To be careless with my husband’s money? To have no other care but for myself?” She shook her head in frustration. “I do not feel like this is the person I am.”
Angie patted Cecilia’s hand. “I haven’t had much experience in these things, but from what I’ve heard from other people who work with people of your station, this is exactly what the ladies do. Some spend so much money, they could easily feed all of the hungry in the country.” She smiled. “And think of it this way. If those in your position didn’t spend their money, the shopkeepers wouldn’t have received your custom. Then, they wouldn’t have the money to pay the people who worked for them or the people they bought from so they could create what they wished to sell. Why, you made it so some sheep farmer in the North can feed his family because you purchased wool socks.”
Cecilia laughed. She appreciated the woman’s advice, though she doubted rather highly that her wool socks put food on some poor farmer’s table. Regardless, by the time the carriage stopped in front of the house, she felt much better than when they had left. Although, she did secretly have to admit that being pampered by the shopkeepers and their staff had been exhilarating, to say the least.
Once they came to a stop, two liveried footmen rushed to the carriage, one to help the women alight and one to begin gathering the many purchases Cecilia had made. Soon, Cecilia was inside removing her cloak and shaking the dust from her dress.
“The Duke?” she asked Dat
on, the butler.
“In his study, Your Grace,” the man replied with a bow.
“Thank you, Daton.” She made her way to the study after sending Angie up to unpack the new items she had purchased. The door was closed, so she stared at it for several moments before entering. What kind of mood would her husband be in today? she wondered. Would his manner return to what it was before his mother had come to visit, or would he continue to mope around like a young child who had not gotten his way?
Finally, she knocked on the door and wait for his invitation to enter.
“There you are,” Benjamin said. No, he was not in very good spirits. Not that Cecilia had expected him to be after how he had been spending his evenings as of late, but she had hoped for the best.
“I just returned from town.”
“Did you?” he asked, though his tone was less than curious. “And what did you do there?”
She shrugged as she pulled off her gloves. “I made a few purchases.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “What kind of purchases?” That seemed to have gotten his attention.
“I realized that, as your mother pointed out, my wardrobe is lacking. So, I went and ordered several new dresses and gowns and a few extra items to go with them.”
“Is that so?” he asked warily. “Do you have the bills?”
She pulled a handful of papers out of her handbag and laid them on his desk. When he looked at them, his eyes went wide in surprise.”
“You spent how much at Martelle's? he shouted. “How many dresses and gowns did you purchase?” Then he shifted the papers and looked at another. “And Keller Jewelers? Why, this is more than I paid for our carriage!”
“Well, it is as your mother said…” she started to say, but he cut her off.
“You, wife, are a hypocrite,” he said in a seething voice as he slammed the papers back onto the desk before him.
Cecilia gave him an indignant look. “Me? How do you arrive at such an opinion?”
He pushed his chair back and stood. “Oh, it is no opinion; it is fact. You tell me how material things hold no interest for you, and yet these,” he picked up the bills once more and threw them across the desk, “show me otherwise. I have never seen such disrespect for my wealth in my life. Perhaps my mother was right about you after all.”
Cecilia felt the tears well up in her eyes, and without a word, she turned and stormed out of the room. How dare the man make such accusations at her!
It was difficult for her to maintain a walk as she made her way to her room, but somehow she kept dignity and kept herself from running. When she arrived, she asked Angie to return later to finish unpacking the purchases. Once the woman was gone, Cecilia threw herself on her bed and allowed the pent-up tears to flow.
This was not how she wished to live the rest of her life. However, when it occurred to her that she had no choice, she cried even harder.
Chapter Fifteen
The anger Benjamin felt did not subside for the remainder of that day nor the following. Cecilia had sent a message down that she had a headache and would not be meeting him for dinner. It was just as well; he had had no desire to see her after the fiasco in the study.
However, sitting before the fire, a glass of brandy in his hand—his fifth if one were to keep count—Benjamin reflected on that conversation, or at least he made an attempt to reflect. Unfortunately, the drink had fogged his brain and what he saw in the images that played in his head were much different than what he thought he remembered. Had he truly called her a hypocrite? No, that had to be a part of the giddiness of the effects of the brandy, for he knew she was not such a person.
Yet, as he continued to think of that meeting, he came to the realization that perhaps he had been a bit hostile in his handling of the situation. He had more than enough money to cover her purchases, and as a Duchess, she had every right to buy new clothes and whatever necessities she deemed necessary. However, the words his mother had shared still echoed in the back of his mind.
The real question remained. Had Cecilia changed so much that she only saw him as a lid to his coffers? He had begun to care for her over the past few weeks, and he thought her to be a much different person than most of the ton. Could it be that his mother had somehow put it into Cecilia’s mind this idea that she needed all new things, or had it been her plan all along?
He thought about the things his mother had said concerning Cecilia. The woman had overstepped her bounds speaking to his wife in such a manner, but he had said nothing in Cecilia’s defense. It was no wonder Cecilia had not bankrupted him in some fit of anger.
It was certainly known to happen. He remembered a bit of gossip he had heard several years ago of an Earl who married the daughter of a Marquess. He had angered her in some way—the rumors on what he had done exactly varied. One said he had had an affair with an actress for several months and the Countess had found out. Another said he had ordered her horse shot after she had argued with him in front of guests at a party. Yet another said he had said something to her in anger, words few wished to repeat, and she had retaliated by hitting where it hurt the most—his pockets.
Regardless of the reason, all of the rumors said she had gone out and spent his entire fortune on not only an entire wardrobe for herself, but one for her lady’s maid and all-new livery and uniforms for the entire staff of twenty servants. That in itself would not have been overly costly—not inexpensive by any means, but not enough to bankrupt a man—but the woman had seen that every new item was made from the best silk and muslin she could find, making the final bill so exuberant, the Earl had to get a loan on his house in order to make the payments.
No, perhaps he had reacted irrationally. If he were to sit with her, he would be able to explain to her why he had gotten so angry and why it would be important for her to be much more careful the next time she went shopping.
Overall, however, he needed to tell her how much he cared for her. That, above all, needed to finally be stated, for the more he thought on it, the more he realized it was true. He did, indeed, care for her.
So, with great effort, he pulled himself from his chair and stumbled across the room. When he got to the door, he took a deep breath and made an attempt to steady himself. It would do no good to get to her room and trip over a footstool or chair; he needed to be the stately Duke when he explained about her spending and how she needed to keep it under control. Then he needed to be the loving husband when he shared with her his feelings for her.
The journey from the study to Cecilia’s rooms did not go as well as Benjamin had planned. It was already late, so the only light he had to guide him came from a set of large windows above the door. As luck would have it, the moon was in just the right place to guide him to the stairway. How silly of him; he should have brought a candle instead of the glass of brandy he held in his hand. Unless he decided to set the brandy on fire. But no, that was just silly.
“Ah, well,” he said as he stared at the glass and then tossed back the remainder of the drink in one gulp. Then he placed the now empty glass on the banister.
Or at least he made an attempt to do so. Somehow, however, he missed and the glass fell with a great clash, sending shards of glass across the foyer floor.
In no time, Daton was there. “Your Grace, are you all right?”
Benjamin waved an unsteady hand at the butler. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m afraid I broke a glass, though.” Somehow he kept himself from laughing. Apparently, the sound of splintering glass could cause even the most stoic of men to fits of giggles like some young girl.
“I will see to it, Your Grace,” Daton replied. “Would you like me to send for Marlins to help you to bed?”
“No, no, there’s no need for that.” Benjamin’s tongue felt as if it had grown fat and found it difficult to articulate his words. “I must speak with my wife first and then I will get to bed on my own.”
“Are you certain…?”
“I will be fine, Daton. Leave me be.”
“Yes, Mr. Daton,” the girl said with a quick curtsy, and then she was gone.
“Well, my old friend, I’m off.” Benjamin lifted his foot and was pleased when it landed on the next step. Then he did it again and again until he reached the top of the staircase, greatly proud of himself for having made such a wondrous achievement. When he looked down at the bottom of the stairs, he turned away quickly; everything had blurred and it would do no good to take a tumble down the stairs when he had such an important quest to complete.
When he arrived at the door to Cecilia’s rooms, he stared at the wood to collect his thoughts, which were bouncing around his head willy-nilly. Then his eyelids became heavy and he realized that he had to get this discussion completed with Cecilia or he would fall where he stood only to be found by either a servant or Cecilia herself, passed out on the floor in front of her door.
It took several moments for a reply to come after he knocked on the door, but when the door opened, Cecilia stood with a housecoat wrapped tightly around her.
When she saw him, her eyes went wide. “Benjamin?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to speak with you,” he said.
She sniffed. “Well, it seems you said quite enough yesterday, do you not believe so?”
“No, I do not believe so,” he replied. When she frowned at him, he realized that his voice sounded angry. “Please, May I come in?”
She hesitated but then moved aside to allow him to enter.