Page 51 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Charles, darling,” Vivian beamed when he entered and he nodded at her stiffly before taking a seat.
“I was wondering… how things were going with Abigail,” he said at once and Vivian let out a deep sigh.
“As well as can be expected I suppose,” she said, her tone clipped. “She is… trying, but there is much work to be done.”
Charles frowned at this and he opened his mouth to tell his mother thathislessons with Abigail had been quite effective. “What do you mean?” he asked instead and his mother waved a hand dismissively.
“Oh, you know,” she said with an elaborate sigh. “Her manners need refining, her knowledge of society is woefully lacking and do not even let me get started on her manner of speaking. Really, one cannot believe her brother is a duke…”
A flicker of irritation coursed through him. “I am certain she is doing her best,” he said coldly, and Vivian smiled sweetly.
“Of course,” she insisted now. “She is trying, the poor girl, but it will take quite some time before she is ready to host a dinner party.”
“She will learn,” Charles said firmly. “I find her to be exceedingly clever and I would not have married her had I thought that the duties of a duchess were beyond her.”
“It will take time,” Vivian insisted and Charles nodded, though a frown furrowed his brow. He hoped his wife would not change too much. Before he could verbalize this thought, however, his mother gracefully rose to her feet.
“Now, if you shall excuse me, I have some urgent correspondence to attend to. Goodnight, darling.”
With that, she left the parlor and Charles leaned back in his seat. Of course, growing up as the son of the Duke of Grouton, he learned even as a child how to find out exactly what was amiss in the household.
No matter what happened, one thing always ran absolutely true. The servants knew everything.
Charles was quick to put his plan into action. The next morning, he was up before the rest of the household, silently trailing through the manor. His early rise only paid off once he made his way to the breakfast table, when hushed voices drifted from an alcove.
“...never seen Her Grace look so tired,” one was saying. “It's not right, I tell you.”
“She’s changed,” another voice agreed. “She is miserable, the poor woman.”
“Hush,” a third voice insisted urgently. “It is not our place to gossip. If the dowager duchess heard us now…”
His frown deepened when he took a seat at the breakfast table. Again, Abigail was far quieter than he was used to — she merely picked at her food and kept her eyes downcast.
Though he tried to speak to her, she often rushed away whenever he approached, and to Charles's utter frustration, this continued for days. It took all of his self-control to quietly wait for opportunities to eavesdrop on the servants as opposed to completely going against all propriety and asking them about it.
The hints and whispers about his wife's unhappiness continued for nearly a week — with Charles growing more and more concerned with his wife's worsening appearance.
“Abigail,” he said one evening when he had had enough and made his way to her bedchamber. “I can see that you are miserable.”
She was skin and bones, he realized with a shock. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and her witty banter had faded to nothingness.
“Please… if this does not make you happy, there is another way, but…”
“No,” she insisted, her voice monotonous and soft. “I wish to continue the lessons. Please.”
She sounded quite certain — and it was with a sigh that Charles agreed to leave her be. However, this did not last. The very next day, he made his way to the parlor where he knew Abigail and his mother had taken to spending their days.
As he approached, he heard his mother's voice rise in frustration. “No, no, no! How many times must we go over this, Abigail? A duchess does not slouch, she does not mumble, and she does not question her betters!”
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Abigail's voice was barely audible. “I'll try harder.”
“See that you do,” Vivian snapped. “Heaven knows, you need all the help you can get. Really, it is a wonder Charles chose you at all. Not that he had much of a choice, given your way of catching…”
Having heard enough, Charles pushed the door open, a deep frown between his brows. “That's enough, mother,” he challenged. Vivian's surprise quickly morphed into a placid smile.
“Charles, darling…”
It took merely a single glance in Abigail's direction to fuel his determination.
