He was gone. Ginelle knew the moment her eyes opened that he was gone, and with his absence, an immediate pang of emptiness. Her eyes fluttered wide, brimmed with tears as she stared blankly up at the wide, ivory ceiling, her heart sinking heavily as a deep void of hollowness spread within her chest.
She sat upright and pulled the coverlets to her chest, inhaling deeply of his masculine scent. She shifted and than spotted the white lily resting against his pillow.
Her heart accelerated as she studied the beautiful flower, the tender gesture flaring hopes anew. As she reached for the lily, she couldn’t help but feel a bit foolish for acting very much the lamented widow but somehow she feared the day of his return would never come.
She cradled the delicate flower, her thumbs gently caressing its milk-white petals. Her tears slipped uncontrollably as the night before embraced in his arms surfaced to mind.
A sudden, unexpected knock came to the door and Ginelle quickly brushed her tears away as Lucile entered, lugging a silver tray fraught with an assorted breakfast. The aromas struck her senses with a ferocity that suddenly churned her stomach. She felt her face grow pale and immediately pressed a hand to her suddenly unsettling belly.
“You have slept well unto midday, mademoiselle.” Lucile’s voice was stern and her dark eyes inquisitive and for a moment, Ginelle feared the older woman would question her afflicted disposition.
She was relieved when the housekeeper said naught, and preceded about the room. She jerked the drapes wide and immediate sunlight poured into the darkened room, emitting effulgent light amongst the masculine furniture.
Ginelle’s fingers curled around the white lily as Lucile crossed back to the tray and removed the silver platters. “Cook has prepared a hearty breakfast I expect a good portion of it to be eaten.”
The older woman turned and her severity wavered but she refrained from saying anything but her dark eyes beheld a deep empathy.
Clearing her throat she motioned towards the tray, “Once you’ve finished your morning meal, you are to get dressed for you are expecting a visitor today.”
Ginelle stilled to awareness, her eyes averting from the flower to Lucile’s face. “A visitor?”
Lucile nodded, “A missive arrived early this morning from the Duchess of Hadley. She asked if you would join her for tea later this evening but considering the circumstances, we informed her that you were feeling a bit under the weather, so we asked if she would come to Ashford instead and she gladly obliged.”
She frowned, “Circumstances?”
“Monsieur Dorian gave adamant orders that you were not to venture far from Ashford while he is away.”
Pierino. Of course. She thought suddenly, her heart budding with affection for though Dorian was at sea and at greater risk than she, he still thought of her wellbeing and that notion brought comfort.
After Lucile left the room, Ginelle arose from bed, her hand still cradling the beautiful small flower symbolizing Dorian’s absence, and for a time she kept that flower in her palm as she stared out the window.
Belle appeared a short time later and assisted Ginelle with her bath. She donned a beautiful gown of peach, the dress emphasizing the tininess of her waist and the fullness of her breasts with a white sash along her midriff and adorning lace sleeves.
Belle situated her blond tresses at the nape of her neck, binding the silver mane with a matching peach ribbon.
She peered at her reflection and found that the lovely image did not reflect the saddened heart within. She could only hope that Lady Ellison could somewhat appease her melancholy.
It was a short time later when a servant informed Ginelle that the Duchess had arrived. As she ascended the stairs, she was taken aback by the sudden nauseated ache within her stomach and the thought of food seemed to deepen her nausea.
Inhaling deeply to abide her queasy belly, she made her way outside to greet Lady Ellison. For a moment she felt slightly nervous at seeing the Duchess again but remembering how much she had seemingly enjoyed her company at the banquet, a bit of her discomfort eased.
The coachman assisted Lady Ellison from the carriage and immediately the sun encompassed her flowing, black hair. She had chosen a vibrant gown of green, very much in striking resemblance to her startling green eyes as they glinted with mirth as they settled on Ginelle.
The two women grasped each other’s extended hands and pressed a kiss on each adorning cheek. “I heard you were not feeling well?” The Duchess asked softly, her green eyes moving genuinely over Ginelle’s pale face.
She nodded with a soft smile, “It is nothing, I promise. I pray that it is not much of an inconvenience, your grace?”
The Duchess laughed sweetly, “Nonsense!” her green eyes glinted with a smile, “And please, call me Ellison. We are friends are we not?”
Despite her unhappiness, she smiled wholeheartedly. She had not many friends so having a companion in Lady Ellison was greatly appreciative. “Would you care for some tea in the garden?”
Ellison nodded eagerly, “That would be lovely.”
The midday sun accentuated the exceptional day, shimmering beautifully along the flourishing garden of kaleidoscopic colors. A brisk autumn breeze caressed the hair at her nape and despite the high sun; she shivered at the sudden cool air skimming lightly along her skin.
Fannie appeared moments later, bracing a tray heavy with tea and crumpets. Ginelle groaned inwardly, her stomach rolling with distaste for the unsweetened bread. She imagined she truly was ill for the nauseated feeling lingered.
“How is the Duke?” she asked, focusing her attention on Ellison. “He is well I hope?”
Ellison chuckled softly, “He is thriving and as vigorous as ever, my beguiling husband.”
Ginelle smiled with amusement at the admiring affection in Ellison’s bright, green eyes. She took a tentative sip from her tea, hoping the aromatic beverage would settle her stomach.
“I heard of your illness recently after the banquet?” Ellison expressed, her face suddenly sympathetic, “I pray there were no lasting effects?” she inquired.
Ginelle set her tea aside and smiled reassuringly, “Not at all. I’m a bit under the weather today but nothing to be concerned over.”
“Tell me-“ Ellison began, “-did any of the suitors at the banquet appeal to you?”
Ginelle stiffened, remembering that night as vividly as if it were yesterday. She felt her face turn crimson with embarrassment at the recollection of Nathaniel Sharp and than the terrifying memory of Pierino.
Sensing her sudden detachment, Ellison felt regret. “Forgive me that was very untoward of me. I have no right to pry.”
Ginelle smiled, quickly composing her thoughts. “No need to apologize.” She said, “Many are curious to know for not much has been said on the matter. I’m afraid none of the men were of interest to me.” she paused and than quickly added, “Do you think me vain?”
Ellison laughed, “Gracious no! I believe every woman has a preference when it comes to choosing a husband.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, suddenly intrigued.
Ellison smiled unto herself, “Well, the Duke and I didn’t quite see eye to eye when we married; in fact, I was quite against our betrothal.”
Ginelle gasped, utterly surprised.
Ellison chuckled with laughter, “It is hard to believe now but at that time it was quite evident that my husband-to-be was anything but appealing to me.”
“But you love him?”
Her green eyes lightened with heartfelt compassion. “Most ardently.”
Her eyes met Ginelle’s from across the table with a knowing expression. “Love is blind, Ginelle. Sometimes it is just beneath the surface.”
Ginelle’s thoughts turned inward, instinctively towards the man who had stolen her heart, against all her objections and distrust of him, she had fallen hopelessly in love with him.
“He loves you, you know.”
Ginelle’s head jerked up, startled by Ellison’s declaration. “Pardon?”
“Dorian.” She said, “He loves you, with a fire that may be grander than your own.”
Ginelle wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the notion was, but found she could not find any humor in it. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I know that your heart cries.” Ellison said softly, “I see it in your eyes and you wonder if he loves you too.” She fell silent, smiling as she added. “I have never seen Dorian so enamored by a woman. The way he looks at you and follows you with his eyes, the very way his demeanor alters completely whenever you are near. The evident signs of enrapture are there, Ginelle.”
Could enrapture be mistaken for lust? She wondered.
“I am being untoward again.” Ellison said and yet, Ginelle did not detect sincere remorse. As she studied Ellison’s expression, there was a keen sense of awareness glinting beautifully in her green eyes, a longing to ease another’s discomfort.
Was Ellison right? Did Dorian truly love her?
They continued the afternoon with a livelier, flowing conversation of theatrical events and latest fashions. She believed Ellison knew of her distress and wished not to upset her, so they avoided the discussion of Dorian.
When the time came for Ellison to leave, Ginelle immediately felt that heaviness in her chest, realizing Ellison had been a wonderful distraction, slightly easing some of her doubts.
“I had a wonderful time.” Ellison said, grasping Ginelle’s hand in her own. “Mayhap we could do this again, soon?” she inquired.
Ginelle smiled and squeezed her hands lightly, “Yes I would like that very much.”
Ellison’s smile widened, “Do not hesitate to call upon me if you need me. I have not many friends that I trust and you will find a worthy ally in me.”
Ginelle felt a great deal of comfort in knowing that she had a worthy companion in Ellison. “Thank you.” She said gently.
With that said between them, Ginelle watched as the coachman assisted Ellison into the carriage and as it strolled down the winding path leading away from Ashford, Ellison waved out the window her goodbye.
**********
A sennight had passed and some of her relief she had felt with Ellison’s reassurance seemed to diminish with each passing day. She had not received word from Dorian on his whereabouts and she could detect nothing from town that usually teemed with gossip.
She immersed herself with books and music and domesticated labor but found that even the tedious house work could do little to cease her thoughts, or the rising fears.
She called upon Ellison frequently, comforted by her presence and warm manner. She visited often, sipping tea and dining of late. They soon became inseparable and Ginelle found it easier to cope with Dorian’s absence so as long Ellison was there to keep her troubled thoughts at bay.
“I am so glad you could join me for supper.” Ginelle said cheerfully as servants bustled around the room, supplying heaps of cookery.
“As am I.” Ellison replied happily, eyeing the food hungrily. “I’m so sorry that Edmund could not join us, he has been quite occupied lately.”
Ginelle smiled but as soon as her gaze settled on the immense display of food spread before them, her stomach turned.
Startled by this reoccurrence since Dorian’s departure, she tried pondering an explanation for her sudden illness. She couldn’t fathom the sudden nausea that plagued her continuously each morning.
Cook had done an excellent job preparing a hearty meal but found that she could not stomach the boiled beef or the fresh, savory vegetables and buttered bread. Though her stomach groaned with hunger, she knew she would not be able to stomach much of anything so chose a latter option of hot tea and chicken broth.
It wasn’t until both women were alone that Ellison asked, “You are not Dorian’s ward are you?”
Ginelle stiffened, startled by the unexpected question. She peered at Ellison from across the table, noting the sharp glint in her evergreen eyes.
She frowned as she cleared her throat, “What do you ask?”
Ellison lowered her knowing gaze, “London ton is quite loquacious. Your banquet stirred quite a significant amount of curiosity.”
With Ginelle’s prolonged silence, Ellison immediately exclaimed, “I am sorry, Ginelle. I find myself prying without limitation.”
Ginelle smiled, “I understand your curiosity. I am quite a mystery to others but you are my beloved friend, I have no fear in confiding in you.”
Ellison hesitantly continued, knowing something of graveness hid beneath the surface. “How did you come to know Dorian?” she took immediate note to the sudden anguish contorting her beloved friend’s face.
It was a stretch of estranged silence before Ginelle answered. Her eyes focused on her lap where her fingers entwined to still the sudden rush of grief that she had for so long blocked from her mind. “I was orphaned at a very young age.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, “It wasn’t until I met a woman that would change my life forever.”
“Eloise.”
Ginelle met Ellison’s attentive, green eyes and smiled gently, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “She had bestowed such kindness on me when others had turned away for they saw only beggary.” Her eyes jumped to Ellison’s for now the Duchess truly knew her heritage was nothing but meager but she detected nothing but sincere comprehension.
“She took me in when I had no where else to go. If it were not for her, I would have surely died.”
Ginelle was stunned to see that Ellison’s green eyes glinted with tears in the dusk glow of the room. “I could imagine her death was devastating for you?” she asked softly, her voice laced with immense heartache.
Ginelle dropped her head, her shoulders shuddering at the painful memory of Eloise lying lifeless in bed, her brilliant blue eyes growing dim. “She had been everything to me that I had never known; a mother, mentor, a sister and most graciously, a beloved friend. Her death was the most painful thing that until this day, I suffer.”
Tears streamed Ellison’s cheek and she found herself immobile to brush them away. “I’m terribly sorry for you loss. Lady Eloise was the most compassionate woman I had ever met.”
Ginelle met Ellison’s gaze, “Did you know her well?”
She shook her head, her black curls bouncing atop her shoulders. “We had met occasionally during social gatherings but sadly she had spent a majority of her time as an adolescent at a boarding school.” She paused, her eyes relaying a glazed look, “She was the light of the Ashford lineage.” she said, “And Dorian was the dark.”
Ginelle shuddered, knowing just how engrossing Dorian’s pain truly was.
“Eloise was the light in Dorian and with her death; I truly thought it would be his undoing.” She paused and than added, “That is until you.”
Ginelle felt her heart swell against her breast as she met her friend’s glowing stare. “I could never compare to her.”
Ellison smiled gently, “It is not about comparison, my dear friend. Love is a profound, inexplicable phenomenon. You, my dearest companion, have bestowed in Dorian what many other women had failed to do. That light that brightens his tormented soul has returned in the budding form of love, all because of you.”
Ellison smiled than, “This is all from observation of course.”
Ginelle laughed gently, “Simply from observation? Are you certain you are not a scholar on the physics of love?”
Ellison grinned, “Perhaps.”
The mood had changed instantly from cloudy to cheerful with Ellison’s enlightening perspective but as farfetched as her explanation sounded, Ginelle couldn’t help but wonder if she was right? Had she truly sparked such a love in Dorian?
Her doubts immediately settled in the back of her mind to dwell upon later so she continued with the evening meal, conversing happily and Ginelle was greatly relieved to see that Ellison seemed unaffected by her poor, troublesome past.
She smiled inwardly for there was a slight sense of acceptance of herself despite her hardships and heritage; a feeling of belonging.
**********