Page 33 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
Michael shook his head.
“Nothing that I don’t already have here,” he said.
The butler looked at him, perplexed. But he just shook his head, shooing the man away with one hand. Patterson eventually complied, disappearing down the hallway. Michael shut the door to the study, going over to the window. He stared out of it at the afternoon light before him. He had believed that nothing in the world was more important than the vase. But now that he had both the vase and Lydia, he wasn’t sure he had made the right choice.
He lost himself in the lovely spring afternoon until there was a knock on the study door. He jumped, certain that it was his wife back to speak to him again. But when he dared open the door, he saw two wide-eyes maids standing on the other side, holding trays of tea and cakes, waiting to be granted entrance to his study. He stepped aside, gesturing for them to come inside the room. He waited for them to put the trays they carried on his desk, closing the door behind them wordlessly when they exited.
With a heavy sigh, he walked back over to his desk. He could no longer remember why he had requested tea and cakes to be served. He poured himself another, heartier drink, finishing it in two gulps. He sat back down at his desk, staring at the trays before him. He wasn’t sure that he wanted anything he had asked for. But he thought that if there was a chance that he might keep drinking his brandy, he might be grateful for it eventually.
He poured yet another drink, drinking it quickly and trying to combat the dizziness he felt before looking back down at the tray. Despite his lack of appetite, he ate two of the small cakes on the tray. When the room stopped spinning, he sat back in his chair, sighing heavily. He thought again about how Lydia deserved a loving, caring husband. He did care about her, that much was evident by what he was willing to do for her to start up this school of hers that meant so much to her. But the truth of what he had done regarding her hand in marriage and the vase kept him from ever being a proper husband. How could he?
Chapter Nineteen
The following day, Lydia decided that she would take the initiative to spend some quality time with her husband. She realized that, as duchess, Michael might look to her to make such arrangements. It took her a whole day to come up with a good way to show her gratitude to Michael for letting her begin work on the school. But at last, she had the perfect idea. She called for Hester, choosing a deep purple evening gown to dress for the day. She knew by then that Michael would spend all day in his study. So, she was ready for her lady’s maid when she arrived, and Hester dressed her and styled her hair in loose hanging ringlets in no time.
When she was dressed, she hurried downstairs, heading straight for the kitchens. She found the cook preparing lunch for the day, and she gave the robust woman a bright smile.
“I do hate to bother you,” she said. “But I was hoping that you might be able to arrange a picnic for Michael and me for the day.”
The cook curtseyed to her, giving her a very warm smile.
“It is no bother at all, milady duchess,” she said. “I am happy to do that for you. What would you like me to prepare?”
Lydia thought it over for a moment. She had noticed that Michael seemed to enjoy lamb stew and fried pork with potatoes and freshly baked bread. She told the cook as much, adding to the meal a rhubarb pie, to which the woman happily agreed. She thanked the cook, leaving the kitchens in a rush and searching desperately for Patterson. She would need his help if she was to surprise her husband. Not only would the butler know where he was, but he would also be able to give her some advice for luring Michael out of his study.
She found Patterson lingering in the entryway of Strawbridge Manor. She hurried up to him, giving him a kind, nervous smile.
“Good day, Patterson,” she said.
The butler bowed elegantly to her.
“Good day, milady duchess,” he said. “How may I serve?”
Lydia blushed.
“I am planning a surprise lunch for Michael,” she said. “Is he in his study?”
The butler’s expression fell, though he nodded slowly.
“He is,” he said. “However, I believe he is preparing for a meeting later today.”
Lydia’s heart also sank. Why hadn’t he mentioned any such meeting to her? He couldn’t have possibly known that she had any plans for the day, as she herself hadn’t known until that morning. And as a gentleman, he didn’t owe her an explanation for all his business dealings. But why hadn’t he at least let her know in case she had needed him for something?
Determined, she gave the butler a nod.
“Thank you,” she said. “Perhaps, I can get him to take a little time to relax before his meeting.”
The butler bowed, but his eyes filled with doubt. Lydia wanted to ask him what was troubling him, but the man excused himself before she could. Just then, one of the young maids rushed up to her, holding the picnic basket carefully in her hands.
“Milady duchess,” she said, curtseying to her mistress. “Cook just finished this for you.
Lydia's eyes sparkled with renewed hope, grateful that the cook was able to put together the basket so quickly.
“Thank you,” she said to the maid. “Now, I must find the duke.”
She headed straight for the study, reminding herself that Michael was a good man. Surely, she would be able to coax him into joining her for a picnic, if only as she had told the butler for an hour or two. She knocked on the door, opening it slowly when Michael called out for the visitor to enter.
“Good morning, darling,” she sang as she entered the study. She had the carefully arranged picnic basket in her hands, hoping that a reprieve from his work would help them reconnect. Clutching the wicker basket filled with the fresh treats, she winked at her husband. “I've planned a lovely picnic for us. I thought it would be wonderful to enjoy the beautiful weather together.”
