Page 56 of A Duke Makes a Deal
After an entiremonth of living with Silas, his sister and his mother, Clara had concluded that while they all seemed to care for one another, they each had very firm—and very different—ideas of how things should be done. Clara unfortunately, was outnumbered every time.
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the help her new family provided. She had never even imagined that she would find herself running a household so extensive and she was grateful that her mother-in-law was more than willing to coach her in the finer points of running a household. She was a bit less grateful that the lessons included etiquette coaching, as well. In fact, she had been asked to join her sister-in-law in etiquette lessons. Clara had been curious at first, but she found the sheer number of rules and regulations they were supposed to follow was rather daunting. She didn’t wish to insult anyone by not attending, even if she found many of the rules arbitrary and rather silly. Not to mention, many of them didn’t truly apply to her, since she already had a husband and wouldn’t have to worry about how a lady was meant to behave while courting. Still, she was determined to become every inch the duchess Silas deserved.
Married. It had been a month and she had quickly learned what everyone meant about having a peerage marriage. While Silas was obviously attracted to her, as he proved nearly every night, Clara found that their daytime interactions were limited,if not completely nonexistent. He was respectful, courteous and distant when they did happen to cross paths during the day. Clara was often left feeling unsure of herself, until the evenings of course.
At night Silas was like a different man. He seemed to relax tenfold the moment their door closed.Theirdoor, since they had forgone the tradition of sleeping in separate rooms. She returned to her rooms to dress, but she slept in his bed every night so that he could worship her and ravish her. They’d spend hours making love, talking (although never about anything too important) or simply holding one another. They connected in a way Clara had never experienced before. But by the time the sun rose, Silas was back to being his stoic, polite self—a stranger to her until night came again.
Worse than a stranger, really. A stranger would feel obliged to keep his opinions to himself. Silas was frequently openly critical, particularly of her choices as the new duchess.
It’s not his fault, Clara told herself one morning as she reflected on one particular instance the previous week, when she had requested the cook to make clangers.
Clangers were a long, suet crusted pastry that covered two different fillings. On one side was a savory stuffing while the other end contained a sweet center. Clara’s favorite had been a pork and caramelized onion partnered with an apple cinnamon finish. She had loved them as a child and perhaps had been feeling homesick when she’d asked for them for dinner.
The look on her mother-in-law’s face when they were revealed had made Clara’s heart sink.
“What in the world is this?” the dowager duchess had asked.
“They’re clangers,” Clara said, shrinking a bit into her seat.
“Rather a plebian dish, isn’t it?”
Clara saw Violet wedge her fork underneath the edge of the pastry and lift it to examine the interior. Her lip curled up in disgust.
“They’re really quite good,” Clara tried, her gaze going to Silas, hoping for some support. “I thought it would be nice to try.”
Silas had appeared unsure, his own gaze shifting between her and his family. After a moment, he gave her a reserved smile, and took a bite. To his credit, he ate the whole thing, but later commented that it was beneath their cook to prepare working class dishes for the family’s table.
Clara had thought that was a rather snobbish thing to say, but she didn’t want to cause a problem, nor did she wish to offend the kitchens.
That wasn’t the only time that she had noticed the striking difference in Silas while it was daytime. He seemed to behave like a proper peer, all stuffy and tight laced. He even spoke to her as she was a servant who was still learning her position.
It grated her nerves severely.
Still, she hadn’t mentioned it to him, unsure if what she was experiencing genuine slights or if he was wanted to help and was simply inept at explaining himself to her. To be honest, she felt as if she were in some kind of fairytale. Her husband would transform every night into a different person. It left her confused. She wasn’t sure how to broach the topic to Silas and so continued with their arrangement as it unfolded.
She told herself that she should be happy to have this sort of arrangement with him. If he was half as attentive to her during the day as he was at night, she wouldn’t be able to get anything done. All the same, she wished she could see him during the day, if only to spend some time together that didn’t involve sleeping together, the way they had back in London when they were courting. But given how powerful the attraction was betweenthem, she reluctantly admitted that if they did meet during the day, they would probably end up naked somewhere. And that certainly wouldn’t do.
They hadn’t laid together last night, or the previous six nights as Clara had just finished her monthly courses. She had noted the tension in Silas’s shoulders that morning when he left their room and she hoped that her courses would finally finish today.
Sighing, Clara tied the strings to her bonnet as she prepared herself for her second trip to visit the tenants. The first trip had happened during the first week of marriage and she had gone with the dowager duchess. This time, however, she was to ride with Violet.
Silas’s sister had been her oddest acquaintance since arriving to Greystone. Violet never went out of her way to see or speak to Clara, and remained completely indifferent when she did see her, without showing any emotion, like or dislike. It had unnerved Clara at first. She felt rather like she was speaking to a plant most of the time. Whenever Clara had tried to ask her questions or show curiosity in her interests, Violet remained largely apathetic.
Undeterred however, Clara was hoping their outing today would prove beneficial to finally building a friendship.
They left the house at half past nine with twenty baskets all made up with strawberry jams, fabric, bottles of port and the various other odds and ends that each household was in need of. For example, The Farleys’ young daughter had suffered a sprained ankle a few days earlier and Cook had made up a tea blend specially made to help with swelling.
It was a little frightening to be attending to this work without the dowager to supervise, but Clara was determined to rise to the occasion. Violet’s presence was decidedly useful, since she had a sharp memory for names. And by the fifteenth house, her sister-in-law was even showing signs of conversation. Well, perhaps acough wasn’t exactly a plea for conversation, but Clara saw it as an opportunity.
“Are you well, Violet?” she asked as her sister-in-law covered her mouth. “I hope you are not coming down with a cold.”
Violet let out a noncommittal hum.
“It has been unseasonably cool this time of year,” Clara tried again.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t have a chill?”
