Page 42 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Thank you,” she mumbled, and once again silence settled between them. Charles was the first to rise to his feet, looking at the grandfather clock in the corner as he did so.
“It is getting late,” he said now. “I… I shall show you to your sleeping quarters. You will have a lady’s maid to attend to you in the morning before breakfast. Mrs. Morgan will arrange for it to be served.”
Abigail nodded slowly and she rose to her feet, allowing him to lead her to her bedchamber. The manor, she realized as she followed him up the stairs, was even larger than the one she grew up in.
They walked in uncomfortable silence. His mention of an heir and a spare remained in her mind and her cheeks grew hot. Would he expect her to have children soon? No. No, she was certain he would give her time to get used to the idea. She thought of Graham and how she'd felt a rush of love when she looked down at him, how satisfied and overjoyed both Harriet and Hugh had been… but she shook her head at the thought.
She was not ready to be a mother — not even nearly so. In fact, the thought of motherhood terrified her.
“Here we are,” Charles's voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up at him, suddenly worried that he'd be able to read her thoughts in her eyes.
“Well…” Charles seemed just as uncomfortable as she was and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Sleep well.”
“Thank you,” Abigail managed to mutter before entering her bedchamber. She hardly noticed the room, merely changing into her nightdress before crawling into the bed.
It was odd to sleep in a strange bed, she could not help but think as she stared at the shadows playing upon the roof. Even more odd was the stark realization that she now had a husband. A man who would share his home and his life with her.
Abigail hardly thought she would ever be able to get used to the idea. She sighed before blowing out the lantern and closing her eyes. She was married now — and as difficult as it was, she'd have to get used to it.
Despite her doubts about being able to sleep well in the strangeness of a new house and life, Abigail fell asleep quite easily — only waking when the sun was already up and a soft knock reverberated through her chamber.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” a young woman said softly as she entered the room and Abigail looked around, confused for a second, before realizing that she was the one the girl had spoken to. Her face flushed at this.
“Morning,” she muttered, suppressing the desire to tell the girl to simply use her name. She was a duchess now and she needed to act like it.
“I am Maria,” the girl said with a bright grin. “And I am to be your lady’s maid.”
“Thank you, Maria,” Abigail said as she carefully climbed out of bed and looked at the girl.
“I suppose,” she said slowly as she became aware of Maria's gaze on her, “I suppose I ought to dress for breakfast.”
Maria smiled at her and nodded. “Of course, Your Grace,” she said quickly. “I think the green would look lovely with your hair and coloring.”
Abigail nodded simply and moved, allowing Maria to help her dress before the other woman gently guided her to the dresser.
“If you'll sit, Your Grace, I'll do your hair.”
With a simple nod, Abigail sat down and a frown settled between her brows as Maria turned her hair into a chignon. This was not something Charles or Hugh ever taught her, she realized. Having a lady's maid to do nearly everything for her was certainly something she would have to get used to.
As soon as the girl was done, she stood back and Abigail rose to her feet. “When… Charles… I mean, His Grace, mentioned that breakfast…”
Maria smiled at her gently. “Breakfast will be served as soon as you are both ready, Your Grace,” she said and Abigail nodded. Though a part of her wanted nothing more than to hide in her bedchamber until being duchess no longer felt so foreign, she realized that she quite wanted to see her husband — he was the closest thing to familiarity she had here.
“I will have breakfast now,” she announced. “If His Grace is ready.”
Maria nodded at this. “I'll take word to the kitchen,” she announced before making her way out of the bedchamber. Abigail breathed deeply before slowly walking downstairs to the dining hall — ready to meet her husband for breakfast.
CHAPTER22
Charles was already seated at the breakfast table when his wife came downstairs and he looked at her with a hesitant smile.
“Morning,” he said, rising as she approached the table and she looked at him shyly. “Morning, Charles,” she returned his greeting and he waited for her to take a seat before reclaiming his own. For a few moments, the pair ate in silence. It was Charles who cleared his throat after a few minutes of this.
“I thought perhaps I could give you a tour of the manor and grounds today,” he offered. “If you'd like.”
Abigail's eyes lit up at this and she nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes! I would like that very much, thank you.”
“Very well,” Charles nodded. “Shall we begin after breakfast?”
