by Abby Ayles
“Possibly,” Lady Byrd replied. “But you would lose her as a friend eventually either way, if she is that way inclined. Perhaps you would rarely see her for fear of meeting her husband. Perhaps he would break her heart. Perhaps she would resent you for not warning her. In my opinion, if she is a true friend she will not blame you for Mr. Perry's feelings or actions, and you may be able to remain amiable.”
“But I do not want our relationship to change at all,” Antoinette said, fully aware of how childish she sounded.
“It already has,” Lady Byrd replied.
It was too much. Antoinette felt tears beginning to stream down her face. She felt the bed move as her mother sat herself down beside the pillows and, pulling Antoinette into a hug, gently stroked her head.
She had barely got her friend back and already things were different. She understood that in some ways they would have to be. That people changed and grew. But it felt so strange, and so wrong, to leave their childhood behind her. It felt like only yesterday that they had been little girls playing in each other's backyards, reading romantic stories, and daydreaming about their perfect weddings. But now that chapter in her life was coming to a close.
She wept in sorrow for all that she was losing. She wept out of nostalgia for her own childhood. She wept in fear for the future's uncertainties. She wept in joy for all the wonders life had brought her, in the form of such wonderful men as Mr. Perry and Duke Godwin, of her dear friend Lucy, her cousin Mary, and her loving mother.
After crying a while, she felt much better. She felt resolved. She felt strong.
“Is that any easier?” her mother asked softly, still stroking her head.
Antoinette sat upright and accepted the handkerchief her mother passed her.
“Remember, it is not strength to never feel these things. It is strength to carry oneself with dignity and to do the right thing in spite of them,” her mother said. “Crying in one's own room is more than acceptable.”
Antoinette laughed a little. “That is good to know... And mother?”
“Yes?” Lady Byrd asked, handing Antoinette the glass of water from her bedside table.
“If we are to wait and see what is to do with Mr. Perry and the Duchy of Devonshire, then we may need to delay my wedding to Duke Godwin. And to do so as inconspicuously as possible,” she explained.
“Then your sudden recovery is...”
“I was not ill,” Antoinette admitted with a slight blush. “But I need you to continue to persuade Duke Godwin that I am too unwell to continue with the wedding arrangements, at least until I know whether or not Mr. Perry will become a Duke himself.”
“I shall do all I can for you,” she said, hugging Antoinette tenderly. “Now, sit back and I will ensure that you get ample warning before anyone comes to visit.”
“But how can I persuade them I am truly ill?” Antoinette asked warily.
“Just lay there, act as though you were exhausted, and do not wear any makeup,” Lady Byrd said.
“You sound experienced in these matters,” Antoinette said.
Lady Byrd just smiled knowingly. “I shall ask for some tea and sandwiches to be brought to you.”
It was not long before Duke Godwin returned, although to Antoinette, stuck in her bed and not ill enough to nap the entire time, it felt like an eternity. In part, she was immediately grateful when his name was announced. But she also knew that she needed to act disinterested and exhausted, and could not afford to be openly sociable or excitable, lest she ruin her plans.
Duke Godwin despaired slightly as he showed her a few different artificial flowers. “Are you absolutely certain you cannot choose between them?” he asked. “Even narrow it down to a few you like?”
Antoinette shook her head. “I am so tired, and I am not sure I am seeing the colours properly. My head is spinning.”
Duke Godwin frowned and looked at the flowers once more. “Then perhaps we ought to discuss your dress...” he offered hesitantly.
“I am sorry, but I am far too ill to see to that,” Antoinette insisted.
Duke Godwin sat back in the chair and dropped the flowers on the floor. “Antoinette, at this rate we will not be able to marry by Christmas,” he said.
“I am not sure it would be wise to try and stick to a schedule, given that I am ill,” she replied.
Duke Godwin nodded in agreement, then sighed. “I suppose I was getting a little ahead of myself. It is only that... I had all but given up on marriage. So few women seemed to meet my standards, and those that did were not interested in me, for their own reasons. And you appeared and... you gave me hope.”
Antoinette smiled, but felt intensely guilty. It was not Duke Godwin's fault that he loved his impression of her any more than it was Lucy's fault she loved her own impression of Mr. Perry. But, unlike with Lucy and Mr. Perry where Antoinette was pretty certain they simply did not know one another very well, she knew she had been misleading Duke Godwin. And she knew that, were Mr. Perry to never become a Duke, then she would have to continue to mislead him.
And she could not. She could not spend her entire life pretending to be the woman Duke Godwin desired. If Mr. Perry would never become a Duke then... they would just have to elope in secret, and move to live somewhere where they would never be found again.
Chapter 36
As the days rolled by, Antoinette found pretending to be ill incredibly tedious. She knew it was what she needed to do, but deception really was not her favourite pass time, and, now she had decided that either way she would not marry Duke Godwin, she could not see the point in it. It had simply become a matter of turning almost every guest away at the door, and then whiling away the hours in her room, waiting for Mr. Perry to make his announcement.
At first he had visited, just as he had promised. But she refused to see him in her room, and continued to insist that she was ill, a statement which her mother defended and her father believed. So after a while she heard less and less from him, until a week later, nearly at Christmas, when her only remaining visitors were her parents and Mary. Duke Godwin had retreated to continue hosting Christmas parties and planning the wedding. Mr. Perry had accepted that until the news she would not see him. And everyone else was too busy with their own matters to bother with Antoinette. She had probably not even crossed their minds.
It took her by surprise, therefore, when her mother told her that Lucy was demanding to see her. Antoinette felt a sense of trepidation as she agreed to see her friend. Without any more context, she could not be sure what Lucy knew, or believed she knew. All she could do was prepare herself for an argument should one take place.
Lucy's sweet smile alleviated some of Antoinette's concerns. She seemed a little sad, a little distressed, but not angry, or suspicious. She sat down on the edge of Antoinette's bed. “You do look unwell,” Lucy said, “I brought some flowers, a maid is putting them in water for you.”
Antoinette smiled in agreement. “My mother said you were distressed.”
Lucy sighed. “I would like for you to keep it in strictest confidence,” she said, “but I really need your advice.”
“I will do whatever I can to help you, you know that,” Antoinette said as reassuringly as she could, despite knowing full well what this would be about.
“Mr. Perry has grown a little distant lately,” Lucy said with a sigh. “I thought perhaps it was just some stress, or the holidays, but... he isn't even going to be here with us for Christmas,” she explained. “I know he had nowhere else he intended to go, so I don't know what has changed, or if he is losing interest in me.”
“That could be the case,” Antoinette replied. “I mean... you two did not get to know one another all that well.” She felt bad using this moment of weakness in Lucy to raise the issue. But she tried to observe the situation the way she would even if she were not interested in Mr. Perry herself. And if Lucy had approached her with the same questions concerning a near identical suitor, then the obvious thing would be to warn her tha
t the man was not interested.
She still felt dirty for doing it, but at least it was not coming purely from a place of self-interest.
“I know, and I know I ought to get to know a man better before falling in love with him but... I thought Mr. Perry and I had something fantastic. Something like in romance stories,” Lucy insisted. “And call me crazy, but at one point I believed he was about to propose.”
Antoinette shook her head. “Men... Men do strange things when courting. I suppose many of the things we do appear strange to them too. But nevertheless, perhaps he simply is not as interested as you had believed?”
Lucy scowled. “Well, my gut was telling me he was right,” she insisted again.
Antoinette knew this was not a battle she could win. Lucy had not matured as much as Antoinette had. Lucy was still inexperienced, naïve, and full of hope. And although Antoinette knew her friend would eventually have to grow up and see that relationships were not the way they were presented in books... she did not want to be the person to break that illusion.
She wanted Lucy to work this out on her own, in her own time, in her own way. Had Antoinette been warned of this when she first began courting she would not have believed it. Her own sister's warnings had been over the top, but there had been some truth to them. Duke Godwin had been inappropriate. Sir Dodge had been dangerous. And neither of them could hold a candle to the man she truly loved. But it took her own journey to discover this.
Antoinette bowed her head. “All I want is for you to bear in mind that people are complicated,” she said.
Lucy smiled. “I will try.”
The next morning, Antoinette felt Mr. Perry's absence acutely. She knew that in the next few days Duke Godwin would again bring up the small matter of the wedding. And she needed to know what she would be doing. Other than rejecting him. She knew that much.
She had contemplated asking her mother for advice again, but something told her that this particular line of thought was one she had to handle on her own. Supportive though her parents may be, they expected her to make the proper, civilized decision and live with Duke Godwin for the rest of her life. But she could not. It would be too painful for her. She knew she needed to speak to Mr. Perry, and soon. She needed to find him and tell him of her intentions. She needed him to agree to run away with her.
Although she knew he loved her, the slight fear persisted that perhaps he would turn her down. Perhaps, if he were not to become a Duke, he would see it as more valuable to enter a marriage with Lucy than to be with the woman he loved. And perhaps... perhaps, however much he loved her, he did not love her that much. Perhaps he would not be prepared to do what she wished to do. She needed to see him.
She asked her mother to send a servant to locate him urgently, but finding Mr. Perry was easier said than done. He was nowhere he had claimed to be, nobody had seen him recently, and everyone was too busy to help find him. And, unable to leave and seek him herself, she was forced to rely on servants helping her find him. Which left her anxious and tired.
But being home alone all day had its advantages. As night fell, the servants returned home, and nobody knew where Mr. Perry was, Antoinette had a brain wave. He couldn't be away from home. Not all the time. He had been seen in town, so he would be returning to his house that evening. Long after the servants would be done for the day, and long after her mother would usually let her see a man... but her parents' permission had never stopped her before.
She knew what she needed to do.
Waiting until the voices downstairs stopped talking, the servants stopped walking the halls, and the lights from under each door were extinguished, Antoinette got dressed, made sure her makeup was impeccable, and prepared her lamp, coat, and shoes. She looked out the window, impatient to leave her room for the first time in weeks.
Snow had just begun to fall, dancing lightly in the light cast by her lamp on the window sill, slowly building up. There would be a blizzard overnight, and she knew that it would be a white Christmas, just like she used to love when she was little. She also knew that it would be cold and treacherous to walk to Mr. Perry's house as the snow and ice built up and up.
But she needed to go.
She extinguished her lamp and pocketed some matches before sneaking downstairs, her heart beating hard and fast. She would not be caught if she were careful enough.
Opening the door she felt the icy wind bite her cheeks and quickly stepped outside and closed the door, to avoid any draught from waking up the servants. She had committed now. There was no turning back. With a determined step, she followed the path as best she could and crossed the fields, making her way to Mr. Perry's house. At one point she believed she was genuinely lost, and could only breathe a sigh of relief when she spied smoke and light in the distance.
Sneaking down to his house, her heart skipped when she saw the familiar bright light in the window. The snow swirling around her reflected the glow of the warm fire inside, and she hurried to the door to knock. There was silence in the house. She knocked again. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it was only his servant. Perhaps...
The door swung open, and there stood Mr. Perry. He was still wearing his travelling clothes, which were damp at the shoulders from snow, and he looked tired and hungry. He had been somewhere all day. He stared at her as though she were a mirage.
“Antoinette, I...” He looked behind her, as though making sure she did not have company. “Come in,” he said.
She did not need to be invited again. Feeling a chill run down her spine, she stepped indoors and swiftly closed the door behind her. Mr. Perry helped her with her coat and took her hand, walking her to his office, where the fire was burning hotly. His hands were as cold as hers, but nevertheless she held on and followed.
Sitting down, he poured her a cup of what smelled like warm cider, which she gladly drank. They sat in silence a few minutes as their cold, stiff bodies warmed up and relaxed by the fire.
“I was in Devon today,” Mr. Perry finally began.
Antoinette glanced at him. His expression was still blank. Her heart sank. “Even if you are not a Duke, I still wish to be with you,” she said quietly.
Mr. Perry turned and locked eyes with her. “Is that so?” he asked.
“I... I love you, Mr. Perry. My cousin told me that fate would choose a husband for me, my mother said I needed to do what was right, my sister said I needed to look out for my own wellbeing... And to do all those things, I must marry you.”
“But Duke Godwin would be insulted, would he not?” Mr. Perry asked.
“Let him be. So long as my parents do not condone my actions he will have no reason to harm them. And as for us... we could leave,” she insisted. “My brother in law and brother will surely support my parents, Duke Godwin would remain their friend, and we could be together.”
Mr. Perry chuckled drily. “But if I have nothing... how do you intend on living? You have seen how small this house it, how I only have one permanent member of staff... It may seem like a luxury to some, but for someone of your upbringing surely it is next to poverty.”
Antoinette paused, thinking of how to phrase her thoughts on the matter. “It would be a change, and a loss to me,” she admitted. “And I have no clue how best to run a house, or to live within a budget. But a loss of income could happen to anyone. It happened to my sister, and to Sir Dodge. And I would rather go through that with you than be wealthy and, in my heart, alone.”
Mr. Perry smiled in relief and poured her some more warm cider. “I am glad you think that way... I too would rather live a modest life somewhere else, with you by my side, than a life of luxury without your company.”
Antoinette felt something she was sure she had never felt before. Of course she felt nervous and excited for the future, and deeply loving towards Mr. Perry. She felt sad that she would have to leave so much behind her, and frustrated that life had not quite worked out as she would have wanted it to. But she also felt a deep sense of peace. Something she had n
ever experienced. Her heart beat steadily, her mind was clear, the things which concerned her were tiny drops in the ocean of peace which she was floating in. This was the right thing to do. Come what may, being with Mr. Perry was the right choice.
“But I never said I was not Duke of Devonshire,” he added with a faint smile before sipping his cider.
Antoinette stared at him, not quite sure she had heard his words properly. “I beg your pardon?” she asked softly.
“I am the Duke of Devonshire, I never said I had not inherited the title,” he repeated.
Antoinette could not help herself. She let out a squeal of excitement so shrill that Mr. Perry dropped his glass of cider and spun around in his seat, ready to save her from whatever had caused that sound. Instead, as he turned she was already by his side, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was going to work out in the end. It was all going to come together. “Congratulations!” was all she could say as he gently pushed her back, a slight reminder that they were not yet married.
Blushing, she stood upright and glanced at the fire. But even her own sensation of awkwardness could not silence the music in her heart. It would happen. It would actually happen.
She could have the man she loved, protect her family, and live a dignified and luxurious life, just like her favourite stories had told her. Of course it had not come easy. But it had come to be anyway.
The sound of Mr. Perry standing up and beginning to speak made her turn around on the spot, looking lovingly into his handsome and gentle eyes.
“You need to go home and wait until tomorrow. Then we shall make the announcement to your parents,” he said, sweeping her hair behind her ear and kissing her cheek gently.
Epilogue
Antoinette could not sleep all night. All she could think about was when Duke Perry would reveal his new status to her parents. She lay in bed listening to the wind howl outside and wondering how deep the snow would fall, whether Duke Perry might end up trapped in his house by a snowdrift, forcing her to delay the revelation even further. Or perhaps the cold would mean he'd take ill, or slip on the ice, and then... Then what could she do? She could not bear that.
