English Rose Ch. 07

"You're the Duchess of Radcliff now," Mae said gently.

Sabrina turned to Douglas blinking in surprise.

"She's correct," Douglas said and offered his wife his hand.

"The same goes for you, young man," Mae said, as he helped her from the carriage. "Your father would have wanted you to step into the title with pride."

Douglas stared down to where his aunt stood on his left, Sabrina on his right. "I know you're right but he left such big shoes to fill."

"Don't try," was Mae advice. "Be your own man and make of it what you will. Whatever you do will make him proud."

Douglas nodded and together the three of them mounted the steps of the Duke and Duchess of Radcliff's London townhouse.

****

Marcus let himself in. It was late although considerably early for him. It had become harder and harder to stay away from his wife. He found his thoughts turning to her throughout the day and felt anticipation grow as the day turned into night. Surprisingly, he had found himself literally counting down the hours until he could return to her, anxious to find her in her bed.

Leaning back against the closed door behind him, Marcus wondered at himself, at what was happening to him. In the weeks since his wedding, Marcus had faithfully drunk, gamed and gambled his way into oblivion hoping to push back the demons and keep the darkness at bay. Only it wasn't the booze that brought him his greatest relief, it was the slender arms of one pixie like woman that brought him peace. There was only one problem, that was the same path his father had chosen and look where that had gotten the late Lord Edington.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Marcus pushed away from the door when a light from the back of the house caught his attention.

Frowning, Marcus started towards the source. It was late for any of the servants to be above stairs unless called and all of them new better then to leave a light burning unattended. Expecting to find a wayward servant up to no good, Marcus was surprised to find his bride sound asleep in his mother's former sitting room.

A quick look around proved that Joan had been using the room for sometime and had made herself comfortable. Furious and feeling slightly nauseas at having to enter the room, Marcus nevertheless strode purposefully across the room and gave the bell pull a fierce yank.

Fists clenched at his sides, Marcus waited for several minutes watching his wife as she continued to sleep unaware.

"My lady, you...my lord!" Mary came to an abrupt halt at the sight of her obviously angry master.

"What is she doing here?" Marcus ground out.

"Marcus?" Joan called sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he ground out not bothering to turn around. "I asked you a question," he snapped, his eyes locked on his housekeeper's face.

"I'm sorry, my lord. Her ladyship ordered the room opened and her things brought down." Mary twisted the skirts of her hastily thrown on dress in her hands.

A sick fury drove Marcus as he said, "You will pack up her things, move them back upstairs and lock up the room."

"Yes, my lord." Mary started to leave the room.

"You will not." Joan said. "Mary, take yourself back to bed. I will deal with his lordship."

"Trust me, wife, when I say you do not want to deal with me at this moment," Marcus said. "Mary, do as ordered. Now."

Eyes wide, Mary looked from her master to her mistress. "I am sorry, my lady," she said and went to find a footman.

Joan felt her shoulders slump as she watched the housekeeper hurry from the room. All of the progress she'd made over the past few weeks destroyed in a matter of moments. Furious, she turned to her husband. "I have no idea what has come over you or what your problem is but I refuse to stay locked away like some unfortunate relative. I am your wife, not your servant, and I intent to live as such."

Joan spoke with a quiet, unexpected fury. "You can move me out of this room and tomorrow I'll find another and another and another until I find some place in this godforsaken house for myself. The only thing you may need a wife for is to warm your bed but I need more than that. Now, if you'll excuse me I think I'll retire for the evening."

Marcus watched as his wife stalked from the room, her steps clipped in anger. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his racing heart. His fury at finding her in his mother's sitting room had yet to subside, the memories of this place making him break out in a sick sweat. With a curse he strode from the room closing the door behind him.

"Leave it, for now," he told Mary as he passed her on his way to his rooms.

Entering the master suites, Marcus crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. It didn't escape his notice that it was his first of the evening. More and more he passed up the booze and instead turned to his wife, their evenings together holding off the darkness unlike anything before. Tonight had been a stark reminder that in that way lay ruin - for them both.

Drinking deeply, Marcus considered the door to his wife's rooms. As the liquor blazed a trail down the back of his throat he found himself considering her words to him. Had he been treating her like a servant? In truth, he hadn't given it much thought - hadn't given her much thought since their marriage. He had never wondered, never asked how she spent her day. Too busy burying himself in her willing flesh, he'd assumed she found whatever ways to entertain herself that all young woman...

Marcus swore. Only she was no longer a young woman. She was his wife. Too late he realized that once she'd married him she'd lost what little freedom she'd had. Until she was formerly introduced into society as his wife any appearance by her alone would be considered scandolous. Given the rush with which they were married, anything short of proper behavior from Joan would be questioned.

He'd screwed up. Joan had every reason to be upset with him and his behavior this evening had only made things worse. While it was the first time he knew it wouldn't be the last. He owed her an apology - for tonight, for all the days since she'd come to live with him as his wife and for all the days still to come. Chances were it wouldn't get any better, would only get worse the longer she stayed. He didn't just owe her an apology - he owed her her freedom.

Determined, for once, to do the right thing, Marcus set down his drink and went to let himself into his wife's rooms.

Joan ignored the knock at her door. Eyeing the keys sitting on the bedside table, she closed her eyes knowing that short of breaking down the door Marcus was barred from getting in.

****

"It really is hideous," Sabrina said eyeing herself in the mirror. The black mourning dress had been delivered early that morning. The color actually seemed to go well with her dark hair, green eyes and olive skin. But the sight of all that black combined with the black draped across the windows and mirrors left her feeling morbid and depressed.

"Charles would have hated it," Mae said from her spot on the couch. "He would have hated seeing you in it even more."

Sabrina caught sight of Mae's reflection in the mirror. "I always thought of the Duke as a stickler for etiquette."

Mae shrugged. "In some ways, but in others - not so much."

Sabrina caught the small smile and the touch of remembered humor as Mae got swept up in the memory of her brother. "He used to drive me crazy when we were young. Like most young men he had two sets of rules, one for him and one for his sister. I never told him but I'm sure he knew that a fair number of my youthful escapades were nothing more than an attempt to rile his temper."

"He adored you, Mae." Sabrina said without turning from the mirror.

"That he did," Mae agreed. "Though he blamed himself for me being a widow at such a young age."

"How so?" Sabrina asked. She knew very little about Mae's husband, just that their's had been a love match and that he'd died at a young age.

"Charles encouraged me to marry young. Our parents had died and he was new to the title. He felt pressure to see me cared for as well as to find a wife and settle down himself. He arranged for us to marry and bestowed a generous dowry. It was more money then my husband had ever managed before and he went a little bit wild. Nothing more then any young man of a similar age but it was during one of his wilder evenings that he was thrown from his horse and killed. Charles thought that if it wasn't for the money Henry would have been home with me."

"Surely you don't believe that?" Sabrina asked.

Mae looked up with a sad smile. "No, I know better. Henry loved life, lived it to the fullest no matter how empty his pockets. I think he was always fated to die young."

Motion at the door drew the ladies attention. "Douglas," Sabrina said and smiled. "How did it go?"

Douglas had spent the day with the solicitor working out the details of his new estate. A sizeable portion of it had been passed on to him years before when his father legally recognized him. However, the bulk of the estate was titled and came only upon his father's death. "Fine," Douglas said and frowned. "That's a horrible color."

"Douglas!" Mae exclaimed.

Sabrina laughed. "It's alright, Mae, he's right."

"Take the damn thing off and burn it," Douglas ordered. "My father would have hated it and I won't see you wearing it around the house."

"Douglas," Sabrina said softly. "Your father was a duke as are you. As much as I hate to admit it, Mae was right. We have to get used to it and for now that means adhering to the protocols of mourning."

"Very well," Douglas said, "but only when you leave the house or receive guests. Otherwise, you wear what is comfortable. Wear the green dress, it was my father's favorite."

****

"Are you always up so bloody early?"

Joan's head snapped up to find her husband standing in the doorway looking extremely disgruntle. The fury from last night seemed to have passed, his frown due more to the early hour of the morning. "There's no need to curse," was all Joan could think to say.

"Trust me, being up this early is every reason to curse." Marcus pushed off from the doorframe and went to join his wife at the breakfast table. Last night having found her door locked to him, Marcus had ordered his man to wake him as soon as Lady Edington rose for the day.

He had retired with every intention of setting her free. He would introduce her to society and then set her up in her own home, a home without the painful memories, a home without him. He'd thought it the perfect plan - right up until the moment he'd walked in to see her sitting alone, breakfasting and reading the morning edition.

Her presence transformed the room. This one room was light and bright, the shadows striped away to create a spot of warmth in a house long gone cold. In that moment he'd know that, for better or worse, she was here to stay.

"My lord?"

"I'll have what the lady is having," Marcus said.

Joan waited while the footman went to fetch Marcus his breakfast. The silence wasn't exactly comfortable and she found herself at an unusual loss for words. "Did you sleep well?" she finally asked.

"No," Marcus said. "But then I never do." Sitting back, Marcus eyed the plate of eggs, toast and breakfast meat as it was placed before him. There was noticably more on his plate then that of his wife. "Is that all you're having for breakfast?"

Joan stared down at her toast and single egg and nodded. "It's just a little something to start the day."

Marcus didn't respond and the two passed the next several minutes eating in silence. A short time later Marcus set aside his fork and considered his wife. "I find that I do not care for the feeling of being barred from your rooms."

"I'm familiar with the feeling," Joan said without looking up from her plate. "It's rather unpleasant."

Marcus sat back with a frown. "My intent wasn't to lock you out but to lock myself in."

Joan's eyes flew to her husband's face. "Good heavens, why?"

Marcus shook his head and bend back over his plate. He hadn't meant to confront her on the locked door or confess his reasons for the same. For some reason he didn't want her thinking that it was a rejection of her.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence. Finished, Marcus pushed his plate away and stood. "I have work to do."

"You'll be leaving then?" Joan asked quietly.

Marcus slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and stared at his wife. "No, I thought to work from home today."

Joan recognized an olive branch and offered up the same. "Perhaps you'd care to join me later for tea?"

"I'd like that," Marcus said, surprised to find it the truth. With a nod he turned and left the breakfast room. Closing himself in his study he he bypassed the correspondence on his desk in favor of the sideboard, poured himself a generous dose of brandy and stared into the fireplace. The logs had yet to be lit and the room held a distinctive chill. Marcus didn't mind. The room with its cold shadows and dark secrets matched his mood. He was a selfish bastard, always had been and never before felt the need to apologize for it. Until now. He knew what the future held for Joan - what he'd just condemned her to - and could do nothing to stop it.

Joan waited until Marcus left before gathering her forgotten paper and walking towards the back of the house. Hands shaking, she opened the door and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd be holding. Her things were as she had left them.

****

"Oh dear," Sabrina muttered and turned the page of the letter she'd been reading over breakfast.

"What is it, my dear?" Mae added more jam to her toast. Taking a bite, she enjoyed the moment of being back in London among the hustle and bustle of the city. While in mourning they were prevented from going out but close friends and family had started calling shortly after their arrival three weeks ago.

Sabrina set aside her letter and considered Douglas. Her husband sat at the head of the table his head hidden behind the morning paper. "Douglas?"

"Hmmm?" Douglas didn't look out from behind the financials. His father's estates had come with a complicated set of financials that he was still getting familiar with.

"I was wondering if you would mind terribly if I made a call this afternoon?" Sabrina was wondering how long it would take her husband to realize that she was being evasive.

Having been altered by the hesitancy in his wife's voice, Douglas finally looked out from behind his paper. "No."

"Douglas..."

"I don't care what manner of trouble Edington has gotten himself into you are not to go see him." Douglas snapped his paper back into place pointedly ignoring both his wife's look of stubborn determination and Mae's hum of warning.

Sabrina bit back on the automatic response to Douglas' high handedness. Understanding its cause, she worked to achieve a reasonable tone. "Douglas, I do not wish to call on Lord Edington."

"No?" Douglas asked in some surprise. "Then who?" Sabrina was careful to observe the strict dictates of society which meant no social calls while still in deep mourning. That fact made her willingness to break with tradition extremely unexpected.

"Lady Edington," Sabrina said.

"For the love of..." Douglas said in exasperation. "That's not much better than calling on the man himself."

"Read this," Sabrina said and handed the letter to Douglas.

Douglas glanced at the envelop that accompanied the letter. Recognizing Ellie's name he quickly turned to the passage Sabrina had pointed out to him. A moment later his brow rose in surprise followed by a muttered curse.

"I'm sure Marcus has no idea. He very rarely concerns himself with polite society and given the situation it appears no one has thought to tell Lady Edington." Sabrina took back her letter and set it aside.

"Sabrina," Douglas said in obvious exasperation. "Why do you insist on meddling in the man's affairs?"

"In this case I'm less concerned with Marcus and more worried about his wife," Sabrina said. "She's young and innocent..."

"Not for long," Douglas muttered.

Sabrina ignored her husband. "Lady Edington wasn't out long before that whole incident with Marcus. I'm sure she could use some support."

"And I'm sure that she has friends and family that are more than willing to offer her both," Douglas said.

"With all due respect, Lady Edington's family is not nearly as capable of handling the situation as..." Sabrina trailed off realizing how egotistical she was about to sound.

"As yourself?" Douglas asked.

"Well, yes, though I realize how that sounds." Sabrina flushed slightly. "Please, Douglas. I would be a friend to Lady Edington."

"Do you really think she would welcome your offer of friendship given your history with her husband?" Douglas asked gently. They had come a long way and he was no longer angry over Sabrina's relationship with Edington. However, he doubted very much that the new Lady Edington would welcome overtures of friendship from her husband's former lover. He hated to see Sabrina put herself out there only to face hurt and rejection.

"Maybe not," Sabrina admitted. "But I would offer it and let her make the choice for herself."

Douglas considered his wife's determined expression and silently admitted defeat. He knew better than to stand in her way. "Very well," Douglas said. "You'll take a footman and your maid and I will see you back here for supper."

"Of course," Sabrina said. Standing, she went to press a quick kiss to Douglas' cheek before excusing herself to dress.

****

"Your Grace," Dillon said masking his surprise.

"Hello, Dillon," Sabrina said and stepped into the foyer.

"My apologizes," Dillon said, "Lord Edington is not receiving."

"No worries," Sabrina said. "I've come to see Lady Edington." Sabrina handed a surprised Dillon her card, "Please ask if she is receiving."

"Of course, your grace," Dillon said. As he turned, he added, "If I may be so bold, the entire staff would like to offer you and your family our deepest sympathies."

"Thank you, Dillon," Sabrina said, unsurprised. The entire ton mourned the duke's passing.

"My lady, Lady Radcliff, the Duchess of Spiegel asks if you are receiving," Dillon announced.

Joan looked up from her book in surprise before jumping from her chair. "Of course! Please show her in and ask Mary to bring in tea."

"Yes, ma'am," Dillon said.

Joan waited anxiously until she heard crisp, feminine footsteps coming towards the sitting room. A quick hand over her hair assured her that all was in place.

"Her Grace, the Duchess of Spiegel," Dillon announced bowing deep at the waist as Sabrina stepped into the room.

Joan dipped a deep curtsy, "Your Grace."

"Lady Edington," Sabrina said and offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. Having come she was suddenly unsure of her decision and nervous at her reception. "Thank you for seeing me unannounced."

"Of course," Joan said and indicated two chairs. "Will you sit?"

"Thank you," Sabrina said. Taking a seat she shook out her skirts and watched Lady Edington join her. The young woman was as beautiful as Sabrina remembered with blond hair and blue eyes. Unfortunately, Sabrina didn't miss the slight tightening around those blue eyes or the tinge of quiet sadness that seemed to weigh down on the young woman.

The two sat quietly through the arrival of tea, Joan gracefully pouring for them both. "Milk and sugar?"

"Yes, please." Sabrina accepted her cup and took a fortifying sip.

"I highly recommend the scones, they're my favorite," Joan said and offered Lady Radcliff a plate of the tasty confections.

"Thank you," Sabrina said. "This is a lovely room," she added looking around as Lady Edington took her seat and settled her tea. She had seen very little of Marcus' townhouse and was surprised to find such a warm, sunny room tucked in at the back of the manor.