Page 53 of Duke of Myste
Something flickered in Richard’s eyes at her words—surprise, perhaps, or concern. Before he could respond, however, a commotion in the entrance hall drew their attention. Mr. Wilson appeared in the doorway, his usual composure replaced with barely concealed urgency.
“Your Grace, forgive the intrusion, but a courier has arrived from London with correspondence marked most urgent. The gentleman waits in the blue drawing room and requires an immediate audience.”
Richard’s entire demeanor shifted, the polite mask slipping to reveal sharp attention. “From whom?”
“Lord Liverpool’s office, Your Grace. The messenger said that the matter concerns parliamentary proceedings requiring your immediate input regarding the upcoming vote on agricultural reform.”
Jane’s heart sank as she watched Richard’s expression transform. Here was yet another reminder that his duties extended far beyond their estate, beyond their marriage, beyond anything that concerned her.
“You need not concern yourself with such matters immediately,” he told her, though his attention was clearly divided. “There is much time to discuss the arrangements at length. I shall attend to this correspondence, and we can continue our discussion later this evening.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Jane replied, the formal address feeling like glass in her mouth. “Duty must always come first.”
Harriet glanced back and forth between them with obvious interest, clearly recognizing the undercurrents flowing beneath their excessively polite exchange.
Richard inclined his head stiffly. “If you excuse me, ladies. I must attend to this matter at once.” He moved toward the door with purposeful strides, pausing only to add, “We shall discuss the assembly arrangements this evening.”
“Well,,” Harriet said after a moment, “shall we have a spot of tea?” she suggested, linking her arm with Jane’s as they walked. “I suspect we have much to discuss in his absence.”
The drawing room felt warmer and more welcoming than the library, the comfortable furniture and cheerful fire creating an atmosphere conducive to relaxation. Pippin bolted from his post by the hearth to greet them with enthusiastic tail-wagging, his joy providing a welcome distraction from the tension between them.
“Now then,” Harriet said as they settled with their tea, “we must discuss the Christmas assembly. Jane, you’ll need to understand the guest list, the menu, the decorations, the entertainment—all the details that make such events memorable, rather than merely enjoyable.”
“I should be grateful for the opportunity to learn,” Jane said quietly. “Though, I confess, the prospect of hosting my first event as Duchess is somewhat daunting.”
“Nonsense,” Harriet declared haughtily. “You have natural grace and excellent judgement – the rest is simply a matter of organization and attention to detail. Besides, Richard will help you when he returns. Won’t he?” she added with a slight edge to her voice that suggested her opinion of her brother’s priorities.
A pang of uncertainty shot through her chest. Would he retreat further behind his wall of polite distance when he returned, or would duty compel him to overcome whatever resistance had driven him to avoid her company?
“I’m certain he will provide whatever guidance is neccecary,” Jane replied diplomatically, though the formality of her own words felt strange on her tongue.
“Of course,” Harriet said, though her tone suggestes she had her doubts. “Then we shall begin tonight, assuming my brother can spare the time. Jane, I trust you understand that hosting this event is both an art and a science, requiring equal measures of creativity and practical planning.”
The conversation continued in this vein for some time, with Harriet providing detailed explanations of guest protocols, menu planning, and the delicate social choreograpjy required for a successful country assembly. Jane found herself genuinely interested in the intricacies, though part of her attention remained focused on the library door, wondering when Richard might emerge from his meeting.
As the evening approached and they got ready for dinner, Jane found herself wondering whether the breakthrough she had hoped for would prove as elusive as the man himself. For every step forward in their relationship, Richard seemed determined to take two steps back, maintaining the careful distance that kept them forever circling each other without ever truly connecting.
The thought that she might spend the rest of her life married to a polite stranger filled her with a desperation she had not expected—a hunger for genuine intimacy that her practical nature had not prepared her to acknowledge, much less pursue.
Yet, as she made her way to her chambers, she caught sight of Richard disappearing into his study once more, and she realized that understanding her new husband might require not patienceand a careful approach, but something far more direct and potentially dangerous.
The real question was whether she possessed the courage to risk the fragile peace they had achieved in pursuit of something deeper—and whether Richard could be persuaded to lower his defenses long enough to discover what they might build together if they dared to try.
The following morning brought with it a lesson that Jane had not anticipated when she agreed to Richard’s instruction on a duchess’s duties. She arrived at the appointed time in what she had come to think of as her classroom—the morning room with its comfortable chairs and excellent light—only to discover that today’s subject matter would prove far more challenging than dancing or deportment.
“Hosting,” Richard began without preamble, his manner businesslike as he consulted the notes he had apparently prepared beforehand, “requires a duchess to master the delicate balance between warmth and authority, intimacy and propriety.”
Jane settled into her customary chair, noting how he had positioned himself across the room rather than at his usual spot. The careful distance felt deliberate, another brick in the ever-growing wall between them.
“How illuminating,” she replied with perhaps more tartness than wisdom. “I had wondered how one might quantify hospitality. Apparently, it can be reduced to mathematical principles like everything else.”
Richard’s eyes flicked to her face, a spark of something—surprise? Irritation?—flickering in their hazel depths. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing of consequence, Your Grace,” Jane said with exaggerated sweetness. “Please, do continue your… instructions.”
For a moment, he looked as though he might challenge her, but then he returned his attention to his notes with the air of a man determined to complete an unpleasant but necessary task.
“The guest list for any event must reflect careful consideration of rank, compatibility, and social obligation. One cannot simply invite whomever one pleases without considering the consequences.”
