VII. Buckingham

The party had been extravagant. It had appeared that no expense had been spared; Lecia had certainly never eaten better in her life. Lisette had forgiven Lecia for every misgiving, insisting that the splendor of the wedding was more than she could have ever dreamed. Seeing her friend had been the greatest consolation of the day. So much time had passed since they’d last seen each other, and under such horrid circumstances.

Of what Lecia had seen of the palace, she was more than impressed. She’d only seen a small portion of it when she was presented to the Queen. As Vaughan led her to their suite, she admired the construction, but was somewhat overwhelmed by the opulence of it all. Having spent a few hours surrounded by luxury, she was beginning to drown in it.

They finally reached their chambers and she followed Vaughan inside. The stateroom was as overwhelming as the rest of the palace; it seemed to have its own green color scheme developing, however. The Duke took her through an antechamber and into their bedroom. Her trunk had been delivered and was at the foot of the lavishly canopied bed.

“The door on the left is a dressing room, the right is the bath,” he told her.

“How often do you stay here?” Lecia asked. He seemed to know his way around.

“Whenever I’m in town,” he answered, loosening his necktie. “I have the title to Cambrihall, which is close, but the Dowager occupies it year-round; I avoid staying there at all costs. Her Majesty doesn’t mind. This is sometimes referred to as my apartment, but I wouldn’t flatter myself to assume I could live here forever. Besides, Martis is my home. But, if we do come here, this will be where we stay.”

“How long until we can leave?” she sighed, finding a seat on the bed. Vaughan raised an eyebrow.

“Eager to leave already, my dear?” he laughed. Lecia cringed at the pet name.

“Well, I’d like to settle in, but that’s rather impossible when I’m being put up in someone else’s home,” she said.

“We’ll be here a month, I think. We’d be sorely missed if we didn’t attend the Flower Show and the races, I’m afraid. After the exhibition at the Academy we’ll head home.”

Vaughan disappeared into the dressing room. Lecia fell back onto the bed and started up at the obnoxiously patterned canopy. With the feathered mattress under her back she realized how tired she was. The day had dragged on, after all. Her husband reappeared in silk pajamas and slippers, but she only turned her head to see him.

“Did you say the races?” she asked, watching as he buttoned the collar of his shirt.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Last year was a dead heat; exhilarating stuff. Have you ever been?”

“No,” she sighed. “I’d never even been to London before, and I’ve only just come out. Don’t you know anything about me?”

“Not a thing,” he laughed. Lecia sat up and decided that she ought to get ready for bed too.

Bed, she thought, horrified. What if he had just said all of those things to her before so that she would agree to marry him? What if he really did wish to conquer her like men were meant to? Mother had said “close your eyes and think of England,” but Lecia wasn’t ready for that. She looked to Vaughan, the fear plain in her eyes. He sucked in a breath and came toward her, grabbing her shoulders. He smiled kindly at her and took her hands in his.

“Now why are you scared? I was very plain with you,” he said softly. “I do not expect or desire anything to happen between us on this night, or any other. You are my Duchess, you are my wife, but I do not demand you serve me in that way. All right?” He squeezed her hands reassuringly.

If he were going to make a habit of being this sincere and gentle, Lecia supposed the rest of her life wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if she wouldn’t ever have to worry about bearing him children.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Good,” he grinned. “Now, go get ready for bed. You look absolutely exhausted. Poor thing.”

With new confidence, Lecia hurried to the dressing room. Her clothes had all been hung and put away in a wardrobe by one of the palace staff already. She found that her plain nightgowns had been replaced with new, more decorative ones. Her mother must have purchased them to please the Duke. Lecia groaned. She found the simplest one—though it was still quite ornate—and began to slip out of her wedding gown. The pool of white fabric around her feet grew with each layer she peeled away from her skin. There weren’t too many, nor were they very heavy, but, having shed them, she couldn’t help but feel evolved. She stood naked for a moment, taking in a clean breath, before cocooning herself in new silk and lace. Feeling quite embarrassed by her ensemble, she pulled out her dressing gown and wrapped herself in it.

Clothed, she walked back into the bedroom to find the washbasin and splash her face. Vaughan had already climbed under the covers and was reading a book. She peered at herself in the mirror and removed her tiara before pulling out all of the other pins in her hair. Her head was happy, the little crown had weighted her down more than she thought, and without the pins her hair could relax. Sighing, she decided that a quick braid would be the best way to sleep, especially if she had to share the bed with someone. Her fingers worked quickly to twist her long curls into order; it wasn’t the best work she’d ever done, but it didn’t exactly matter.

Lecia made sure that the tiara was safely placed before heading over to the bed. She paused at the vacant side and looked to Vaughan for some guidance. Clearly she was meant to be on this side, but…

He must have noticed her between from the corner of his eye, but finished his page before looking to her. He tossed back the covers from his legs.

“I’m not fond of thin sheets, so I’ll sleep on top and you can sleep underneath. That way there won’t be any unwanted skin contact,” he said teasingly. Lecia didn’t like thin sheets either, but she wasn’t about to say so. “I’ll get the lamps in a moment; you should lie down.”

Quietly, Lecia shed her dressing gown and hung it on a hook by the bed and then climbed in. The sheets were cool as the mattress sunk around her weight. She pulled the sheets and blankets up one at a time over her legs before resting her head on a soft pillow. The bed was quite large, so unless either of them moved an awful lot in the night, they probably wouldn’t touch. As she lie rigid, staring again up at the canopy, this time looking for pictures in the nonsensical pattern, she felt Vaughan grab one of the dozens of pillows and place it between them. She closed her eyes and silently thanked him.

Sleep took her before Vaughan had even finished his chapter.

A/N: Hella short chapter, sorry. BUT AT LEAST I'VE BEEN UPDATING SOMEWHAT REGULARLY. (Knock on wood.)