Page 24 of Her Bear of a Duke

"Do you suppose he is disappointed?" she asked Francine as they made their way to the dining room.

"The Duke?" she asked. "No, I would not have said so. He would not have married you if he did not want to, after all."

But Dorothy knew better. He had to marry her after what they had done, as there was always the chance that they had been seen in the gardens. It had been his duty to take her as his wife, even if he had not already agreed to. Even so, she smiled gratefully at her lady's maid and entered the dining room, taking her place at the table.

It was a formal place setting, and her husband would be at the other end of a very long table. Dorothy tried not to mind; they would be able to speak, at least.

But then a servant began serving her meal.

"Stop!" she gasped, and the servant froze.

"Do you not enjoy tomatoes, Your Grace?" he asked, confusion etched in his brow.

"I do, but should my husband not be here?"

The servant shifted from one foot to the other, not quite able to meet her eye. She knew at once what he was about to say.

"He will not be coming," he explained. "He prefers to eat alone."

Dorothy nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. She motioned for him to continue to serve her, and tried not to think about anything at all. Each time she thought of something, it led back to the Duke, and how he had clearly changed his mind. She had to have done something to deserve it, but she could not for the life of her think just what it was, unless it was how she looked. It had always been the thing that her parents had reminded her of, after all. Short and round, soft and plump, not the tall and slim beauties that a duke would usually have his pick of. Even if he had done his duty, that did not mean that he would ever want to see her. If she were him, she knew that she would not.

The following day, after very little sleep, Francine dressed her and she went to breakfast. Once more, she ate alone, and then she went to find Mrs. Herrington, as it was time for her tour. The housekeeper did not seem best pleased to see her, but Dorothy was determined not to let that concern her. If this was her life, then she would do the best that she could with it.

"I am aware that you and your maid have already seen the household, yes?" she asked.

"Indeed, though I will say that I did not ask her any questions. I assumed that she would not have known the answers, not like you shall at least."

"Yes, that would be correct."

They continued through each room, and the most that Dorothy received from Mrs. Herrington was a brief history of the family and which type each room was. There was very little enthusiasm, as though she did not care about her role, and Dorothy almost felt pity for her.

They, of course, missed the west wing.

"When do you suppose that the Duke will tell me about that wing?" she asked as they passed it.

"In his own time. It is where he spends most of his time, but for the time being you are forbidden from going to it, as you know."

"Of course. Are you permitted to see it?"

"Of course I am. It is vital that I go there, several times a day in fact."

Dorothy knew better than to ask her why that was.

"And this," she said as they left the household, "Is the garden. His Grace is very passionate about it, and so I doubt that you will be trusted to spend very much time here."

"Oh, no, I am very much capable of tending to the gardens. It is something that the Duke and I have in common, you see. I am rather knowledgeable about botany, and I will not trample anything."

"Make sure that you do not."

It was beginning to frustrate Dorothy that she was being treated like a child. She was not an overly excited dog, and she knew how to walk in a garden. Yet, her own housekeeper seemed almost suspicious of her. It was as though Mrs. Herrington was waiting for her to trample the land and break every object in sight, and it upset Dorothy greatly.

She did not look like what she thought a duchess should, but she at least hoped that she would appear to act as one. With a sigh, she continued to follow Mrs. Herrington.

The second night, she ate alone again. Fortunately, she found that she was at least hungry that time. She ate in silence, and then left for the library. She found a botany book, and read that before going to her room and having another fitful night's sleep.

When her third day passed in the same way, and she was alone throughout it without even a glimpse of her husband, she resigned to her fate. She would not be happy in her marriage, and that was perfectly acceptable; many ladies were unhappy with their arranged marriages, but they were secure with a stable future and that was precisely what she had. She wanted to be grateful for what she was given, and she tried so hard to be all the time that she spent by herself in the library.

When she was asleep, however, she was no longer able to conceal her true emotion. She wept into her pillow until she fell asleep, and by then she was so exhausted that she did not wake up until late the following morning.

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