Page 32 of Denying a Rakish Duke
“Yes, Your Grace, he was last seen yesterday afternoon for a change of clothing, and then, he went out yet again,” the man said simply and without elaboration.
What in the world is he doing?Vanessa thought to herself. He was avoiding her, that much was obvious. After her talk with her mother, she had decided to attempt to patch things up between them, to smooth the situation over to the best of her ability. She had not yet come up with the method to employ to accomplish it, but she knew that she needed to try.
Except Joseph was avoiding her. He seemed to have vacated his home entirely in fact, without a word to her. Certainly, being his wife did not entitle her to know his whereabouts every moment of the day, but something would have been nice. Since they fought, Joseph had not said a word to her, had not come into her chamber at night, nothing. She had wanted space, just not this much of it.
“Very well, thank you,” Vanessa said to the butler, who bowed and went about his business. Vanessa could play that game, she could spend her nights away, and she could devote all of her time to her riding and hobbies. It was not as if he would notice if she were suddenly missing as he did not seem to care one way or the other.
Another servant lingered, a robust woman who Vanessa recognized as Abigail, one of the ones who gathered the sheets and linens from the chambers. She had a very kind face, the sort that made Vanessa feel at ease around her. “Your Grace, there is something else … if it is not too bold of me to say,” Abigail said softly, not wishing to be overheard by the butler lest she get herself into trouble.
“Of course, what is it?” Vanessa asked.
“There has been talk … I should not say anything, but there have been rumors regarding your family, and I thought that you ought to know if you did not. You have been nothing but kind to me since your arrival here, and I do not like the idea of people speaking poorly about your loved ones.”
“Thank you for your kind words, Abigail; please speak freely.”
“There have been whispers as to your family’s fortune and the methods in which three of the daughters have been paired with Dukes. I am certain that these nasty lies have been borne out of jealousy for your family’s good fortune. I do not listen to such nonsense, but there are others who claim that there will be significant difficulty in producing a proper dowry for your youngest sister, given the scandals that seem to flock to the Farbridge family.”
Fire boiled under Vanessa’s skin. The poor thing in front of her seemed nearly ready to shake apart as she relayed the message that she had overheard. “I see,” Vanessa said simply, “and where have you heard such things?”
Vanessa did not actually need her to confirm the rumors. She had certainly heard more than enough whispers pointed in her direction. She understood the fact that she had been disinvited from certain social functions under the guise of allowing her to enjoy being a newly married woman. It was not as if she actually wished to go anyway. Not unless it would not provide her with a way to speak with her sister.
“The servants speak, Your Grace, and then there was this—” She patted down her apron and then produced a folded pamphlet from her pocket. “I confiscated this from the scullery maid.” She held it out into the space between them. “I caution you to, perhaps, be seated when you read it?”
It was clearly a gossip paper, but it was one that she did not recognize at first glance. She did not usually occupy her time with rumors or things being said; she liked to pretend that she was above such things, but her curiosity was going to win. Most of all as this clearly concerned her family. She glanced at the insignia scrawled at the top, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Thank you, Abigail; I appreciate you bringing this to my attention.”
It was exactly the sort of thing that Petunia did not need to trouble herself with at a time like this, not with everything else that her mother was presently dealing with.
Vanessa took the pamphlet into the drawing room and sat. She had been intending to have afternoon tea, but now she had lost her appetite. Nevertheless, she had only just unfolded the thing properly and started to read it when the Dowager Duchess strolled into the room accompanied by a maid pushing a trolley with tea and biscuits.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace; have tea with me.” The Dowager did not phrase it as a request but rather as a command. Without a good excuse as to why she could not, Vanessa was forced to agree. “What is that in your hand, Girl? Do not tell me that you are inclined to those sorts of publications? As entertaining as I find rumors, they are the fastest way to rot your brain.” She gave Vanessa a pointed look, and Vanessa tucked the pamphlet under her leg.
“To what do I owe the gift of your company this afternoon? You are normally so busy,” Vanessa asked in as kind a voice as she could.
“Yes, attending to the Estate— generally doing the things that you are supposed to do when you are Duchess. Things thatyoushould be attending to.” Embarrassment darkened Vanessa’s cheeks, and she focused on the tea being poured into the small ornate cups.
“I did not wish to step on any toes, Your Grace.” she explained, feeling foolish for having suggested such a thing in the first place. Given that she was still residing with them, Vanessa had refrained from taking over too many duties because she had not wanted the Dowager to feel out of place or as if Vanessa were taking too much from her.
“You might not think that an old woman such as myself would have better things to do with my time, but I have more than enough to keep me occupied without having to do your duties as well— one of which would be keeping my grandson happy. I shall not pretend to know what has happened between you to estrange the boy so, but given that he lacks all forms of common sense, I have to conclude there was an altercation of some sort. Have a biscuit; you are so thin.” The Dowager pushed a plate of iced biscuits toward Vanessa, who reluctantly accepted one and placed it on her plate. “I put my neck out for you, Girl, and I have regretted that choice ever since. I had thought that you possessed fire— I thought that youlikedmy grandson. Was I mistaken?”
Vanessa waivered; she was unsure if the statement was rhetorical or not.
“I am not in the habit of repeating myself, Girl, and I am also not in the habit of being wrong about these sorts of things. Your actions are leading me to believe that I have somehow cornered you into a marriage that you did not want and only agreed to in order to spare your sister reproach?”
Vanessa’s face warmed, and she shifted anxiously in her seat. “I do apologize, but I do not find such topics easy to converse about—” She could not meet the Dowager’s eye. The Dowager clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth; it was not the answer that she was looking for.
“So that is to say that you believe that I have condemned you to a marriage without promise?”
“I would not say that,” Vanessa started, only to be spoken over.
“Is there something disagreeable about my grandson?” the Dowager paused, reconsidering, for she knew that there was a great deal of disagreeable things about her grandson that she did not dare to give a voice to presently. “Certainly, you cannot be forcing him off the Estate simply because he has a mistress or two?”
Vanessa bristled, her shoulders stiffened, and the tea sloshed in her cup.
“Ah, so that is what it is,” the Dowager smiled, the corner of her lips tilting upward. “You do not like the idea of him entertaining another woman, or is it ego that you simply do not wish to have a woman in your place, doing yet another thing that you are supposed to be doing? Are you simply inadequate, Child? Do you expect to be catered to? Do you really think that a man with a reputation such as the one that my grandson has will simply ‘see the light’ and become faithful to a wife who spurns him?”
Vanessa did not care for the terms being used. She was far from a child. Her eyes narrowed, and she forwent any pretense of enjoying her tea before she spoke again. This time her tone was absent any forced friendly airs or politeness. “I wonder, do you make many friends this way? Insulting people that you do not know anything about in hopes that they will rush to their own defense and offer up additional information that you have not earned? I have even less reason to take you into my confidence now than before, and yet you still seem inclined to press me?” Vanessa’s brow pinched, and she set the tea down on the table. “I will not take the blame for the follies of my husband. I do not care how fashionable men have made it to take more than one lover, but I am not that way, something that my husband is very well aware of. Perhaps you should look to him— ask him why he is incapable of satisfying his wife? Certainly, you must have interrogated him in the same fashion as this? What answers did he provide you with? Hm?”
“Careful where you point that barbarous tongue, Girl. I am not your enemy,” the Dowager warned, all civility gone from her stern features.
