X. Home

The travelling had been broken up by bouts of riding in the mornings, stopping for tea shortly after noon, and resting in the carriage until suitable accommodations could be found. It had been about a week’s worth of travel from London; Martis was just coming into view, or, at least, the walled property line was.

What Lecia had seen of the duchy was quite impressive. Everything was maintained well and the people had looked on their procession with pride and admiration. It appeared to her that Vaughan really was a generous lord who had earned enormous respect from his people. She suddenly felt reassured that he would follow through with her request to become more charitable, though she hadn’t realized that there had been any lingering apprehension about it.

It was midday as they rode through the gates. The actual estate was fenced with dry stone and hidden by the growth of trees along the walls. They trotted down the palace road, carefully planted pines lining the way until the cobbled path widened and split to allow extensive traffic. With the trees gone, the vast green fields and pastures came into view. At the center of the roundabout was an ornate fountain that seemed to be turned off, though the golden fish living in it were very much alive. There was so much to see and Lecia wasn’t sure where to look, but the growing palace was becoming impossible to ignore.

Martis was the most impressive thing she had ever seen. Buckingham and Windsor were both remarkable structures, but Martis’ sheer size and inescapable beauty—perhaps enhanced by the natural splendor surrounding it—were so breathtaking Lecia had to pull Wick to a halt. They were still at least half a mile away from the entrance, but she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Not only was she in awe of the architecture, even from the distance, but also she was suddenly incredulous that this would be her home.

“We haven’t even arrived yet,” Vaughan said after a moment of stillness. “Come on,” he called as he rode off.

Lecia marched forward, taking in the quiet landscape of the park, and then preparing herself to see the palace up close. When they finally reached the wrought iron front gate, it was already open; it was nestled in the center of shrubbery fencing that sectioned off the great court of the palace from the rest of the property. She briefly wondered why the roundabout was necessary since the space could easily accommodate a large number of guests’ carriages. As they rode through the center, she viewed craftsmen in the right court and bustling maids in the left; the left wing of the palace was to lodge the staff, and the right wing was for the livestock. In the center, though, was the heart of the palace.

When they stopped and dismounted, grooms were immediately prepared to take their horses. Behind great, white columns, a two-story door was opened and a line of servants filed out and down the steps to welcome their master home. Lecia stood, captivated by the pageant, with Vaughan’s arm tucked into hers. As their carriage pulled in behind them, some maids rushed to unload the luggage while the rest formed a track for their Duke and his new wife to pass through. Vaughan led Lecia forward and she curiously peered at some of the people on staff; their heads were bowed, but she would learn their faces some day.

An older man and a middle-aged woman waited at the top of the steps. Vaughan stopped Lecia and smiled at the two strangers.

“My dear,” he said to Lecia, “this is Bartholomew Grosschalk, our Steward, and Orpha McManus, the Housekeeper. If you’re ever in need of something, don’t hesitate to call either of them and they’ll be sure to take care of it for you. Bart, Orpha, this is Lecia, our new Duchess.”

She was met with a “Your Grace” and a bow from each of them. When she was upright again, Orpha called for one of the girls in line and she came quickly to join them.

“My Lady, this is Izzy; she’s the most qualified to serve as your Lady’s Maid until such a time you hire your own, but I’d be happy to serve Your Grace as well,” Orpha said.

Lecia took in the sight of Izzy, a small girl who’d likely been a slave to the Dowager a time or two. She would certainly be fine; Lecia had never been very particular about having maids anyway. The Baroness, Zora, and Lecia had all shared Nettie, after all. Besides, having this many servants was already extremely overwhelming.

“I’m sure Izzy and I will get along quite nicely, thank you,” Lecia said. They all blinked at her as Vaughan hid a grin. For being as fierce as she was, Lecia was by far the kindest Duchess of Cambria and Martisine that the staff had ever seen simply because she thanked them.

“Of course, My Lady,” Orpha bowed her head.

“Well, I think we better take a tour of the grounds,” said Vaughan. “Have Cook prepare supper for the usual time, Bart.”

When they stepped through the door, Lecia could not believe her eyes.

“This is the Great Hall,” Vaughan told her. “It’s the primary location of dancing when we have parties, but it’s really quite boring in the grand scheme of things. I know you’re tired, so I’ll only show you the most important parts now. The rest will come with time; this place is a labyrinth.”

He showed her to the sitting room with the best view of the property that would be ideal for her painting, and then to the Grand Saloon where they would receive most of their guests. He took her to the doorway that led to the stables, and then the one to the kitchens. Next he took her by his room, and then to his office. Lastly, he brought her to the library.

“Now,” he said as Lecia tried to hide how stunned she was, “I want to take you around the grounds tomorrow, so don’t go exploring. You’re going to want to once you look out of your windows, but take a bath and go to bed. I promise I’ll show you everything, and then you’ll be ready to be on your own.”

As he ushered her out of the library, he had to remind her that she could visit whenever she liked to. After all, it wasn’t just full of books; it had a piano as well. It had been ages since she’d played and she did miss it a bit.

Vaughan walked her to her rooms; he checked that Izzy was waiting for her.

“I instructed Orpha to leave it fairly plain, though it’s all been replaced since Drothea stayed here. Whatever you need, or whatever changes you’d like to make, just let Orpha know and she will take care of it. Really, anything you want; a new mattress, a porcelain tub, whatever your heart desires, my dear.”

Lecia nodded, but eyed him dangerously.

“That’s really not my favorite pet name,” she admitted.

“Oh,” Vaughan shrugged. “Then what would you prefer? My love? My sweet? Sweetheart?” he laughed. “The staff won’t question our separate living arrangements, but I certainly can’t be indifferent toward you; not that I could be, darling.”

Lecia understood. “I don’t mind, it’s just that my father calls me “my dear,” and hearing you say it is strange.”

“I agree,” he said. He quickly felt indecent for having used the term. “I’ll think on it, but you should get ready for supper.”

Vaughan left her to enter the apartment alone. She watched as he strode down the hall, his riding boots clacking against the checkered black and white marble floor. Everything was just so…luxurious; she felt like Elizabeth Bennet visiting Pemberley.

Izzy was waiting in the sitting room. She curtsied with an accompanying “Your Grace”.

“Please, ‘my lady’ will do just fine when it’s just the two of us here,” Lecia told her. She’d only been a Duchess for two months and already the title was weighing her down.

“Of course, my lady,” the maid complied.

Expectedly, everything was as ornately designed in her chambers as the rest of the palace. Mostly in the Baroque style, she believed. The furniture in her sitting room looked like it had been made to match the house. While it was suitable, it was admittedly rather bland for her tastes. The first Duchess to live there must have been exceptionally uninteresting.

As Lecia was guided through an antechamber, and then through her bedroom, she saw much of the same flat decoration. Certainly new wallpaper and new upholstery would benefit the place, and the artwork she’d gotten at the Exhibition would liven everything up. They went through the closet and entered the bath chamber where the maid promptly began to undress Lecia from her riding habit. The tub had been filled most of the way with water and it steamed, waiting for her to get in.

“Izzy,” Lecia started as she climbed into the bath, “could you let Orpha know that I’ll be needing her assistance redecorating? There’s no rush, but I do think I’d like to make the place my own.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Looking around the bath chamber, Lecia decided that it was satisfactory, aside from the terrible curtains, which she had Izzy open. There was a decent view from the tub, but she mostly desired to feel some semblance of fresh air because she was already suffocating. The sunlight helped, but the steam was fogging up the windows and her lungs.

When her bath was finished, Lecia dressed and joined Vaughan for supper. He employed a brilliant cook, and in her further exploration of the house, he also kept good taste. While traditional things, like the dining room table, were clearly antique, he had replaced furnishings, rugs, and artwork to fit his own comfort. It wasn’t that the changes were drastically out of place and easily noticeable, Lecia just found herself drawn to those things and then realized their juxtaposition.

It had been odd to say good night to Vaughan and then leave for her own bed. She was thankful for it, yes, but it was like when he had gone away to Germany: part of her unwittingly missed him. It was for the best, though. Since she had been bothering herself about why he didn’t want children, she found herself thinking too much about…children. The last two weeks or so had been a torment, to lie at night with him so close worrying if he found her attractive, and also annoyed that he must not since he’d never made an advance.

Lecia was no fool. Although society found it taboo to speak about, a perceptive young woman could easily read between the lines—or a naughty book—and learn exactly what the fuss was about. It was all quite scientific; she’d seen the cats, and mother had spoken to Zora when Henry proposed. Lecia knew exactly what to expect. Besides, she’d been kissed before. Chastely.

It wasn’t that she wanted Vaughan to try anything, but that he hadn’t and didn’t seem likely to. She…felt ugly for the first time in her life. Men were usually tripping over themselves to look at her, but Vaughan… Perhaps she was just being childish. She was still beautiful, surely, and she never really liked kissing anyway.

She folded herself into her covers, burrowed her head into the pillows, and let the feathery mattress carry her into sleep. Alone.