Copyright to VedaPettigrew
Henry watched his beloved wife entrance their guests with her exquisite playing. He could not believe his luck in his choice of wife - she was utterly perfect – and sent up a prayer of thanks to the God that contained their lives in his hands. It was something he seemed to be doing a lot of since his wedding day.
To hear her play, one would think they were listening to the angels themselves. How she had kept this a secret for so many years was astounding. But then, he thought so little of her parents that their stupidity should never surprise him.
Plots to ruin them swirled through his brain, night and day. He had begun a plan that would see them poor and disgraced and living on the hand-outs that his wife would provide. They would have to come begging to her and it would be her decision to help them or not.
He smiled, darkly amused at the thought.
Looking at her, he knew without a doubt she would help them. She was kind and generous, far more than he. Her activities the last few months had shown him nothing less. She had thrown herself into working at the poor houses and with the orphans in the orphanage so fully that it was never a surprise to see her come home muddied, hair askew and exhausted.
The first few times he had berated her for treating herself so carelessly and she smiled and nodded and then did exactly the same thing the next time she went.
He shook his head. Minx.
All the gentlemen at the club had mocked him for his choice in marrying so young but every day he revelled in how wrong they were. The younger set balked at the idea of giving up their freedom and the white haired gents playfully told him of what his days would be like once married. Full of misery and arguments. "You'll be white-haired too within the year!" they had said.
Fools, the lot of them. His wife brought nothing but good into his life. The only misery he had was discovering her past, her terrible childhood, her awful parents. The only serious argument was when he had tried to save her feelings by not bedding her when he discovered she would be unable to bear his children.
Though that blow had caused them both some misery, he meant what he told her; even knowing the truth, he would pick her again.
The maestro had been a surprise. Gio. The more he discovered of their relationship the more aware of how indebted he was to the man who had saved his wife through love and time. Showing her that she was worthy of attention and kindness.
Rosie had blossomed even more with Gio around which made him even more determined that the man would forever have a home with them. Especially considering what a thoughtful member of the house he was; never spending too much time with them or away from them.
Her delightful sense of impish humour had come out, her determination to be a good duchess was written in every action she took, her confidence growing more each day. His family had a lot to do with it as well, teaching and encouraging her at every step.
Yes he was a fortunate man indeed.
He just needed to discover why she watched him so carefully among other women. She denied it of course but it was strangely obvious. She was not being jealous, or petty. Just curious, as though there was a secret to discover.
Her piece finished to rapturous applause and she stood to curtsey with a blush and skipped back to his side once more, encouraging Lady Albright to perform with a wave of her hand. Of course his beautiful Rosie would not understand that nobody wanted to follow her performance. Her heart was too kind to see that she outstripped their own talents and that they would be embarrassed at their deficiency. Neither would she see their deficiency, she would merely accept them and praise them the way they were.
He stood as she approached and offered her a slight bow, kissing her hand before she sat. Once she was comfortable, he joined her on the sofa once more. The way they flouted convention to be with each other was still gossiped about, but he could not give a whit. She was his favourite person and would never tire of having her close. Also, he knew she felt braver and stronger when he was by her side, so until she no longer needed him, it was where he belonged.
Wiston was carelessly loafing in the back of the room, flirting with Lady Enderly. She was beautiful, he could not deny, but he still could not fathom the attraction. She was all points and angles, body, mind and soul. He much preferred the softness of Rosie. To each his own though, he would not suspend any pleasure his friend might court.
Except when he flirted with his wife, which seemed to be his favourite pastime.
Rosie softly rebuked him for getting needlessly jealous but he could not help it. She told him repeatedly that the only reason that Wiston did it was to get a rise out of him, but it seemed to matter not. His temper was not so easily assuaged.
Fortunately, his wife never flirted back, often rolling her eyes at Wiston's antics, maybe laughing at his jokes. But she never went too far. Never hurt him with her actions.
Conversation started up when nobody approached the piano.
"So Foxleigh, are you having a shooting party this year?" his friend Lord John Fordham asked.
"Yes, apparently we are overrun with birds at Amblethorpe this year," he pronounced. "Jenkins said to make sure we had plenty of guests. I believe the Duchess will be getting the invitations out this week."
Rosie was chatting with the Marchioness of Clayton but they had already discussed at length the type of entertaining they would be doing on the estate: who, when, how long. Fortunately they were of the same determination that there would be pockets of time without guests. He would prefer to not invite anybody for Rosie looked so tired. This season had taken it out of her: being newly married, dealing with jealous debutants, becoming a Duchess, taking on new roles in society, as well as her charitable endeavours.
She was exhausted but argued against his desire to be alone the entire time.
"We cannot, Henry. What would be said of us? Of Me? Plus I long to show off my new home to my friends. Your family are a must of course, as well as Lord John and Lady Hannah. We ought to invite..." and then she had reeled off a list of people he could do without.
Lord John was not one of them however. It was fortunate indeed that he was married to one of Rosie's friends, it made life more pleasant to have a man he could stand alongside some of the pompous asses he knew were married to others of her friends and acquaintances.
"You are first on the list Fordham," he assured him. "After my mother and siblings of course." And Wiston he added silently, begrudging the fact that his flirtatious friend would be with them throughout most of the country season. Maybe he could get Rosie a guard dog and train it to hate the chap.
Smiling inwardly at the thought, he turned his attention back to the conversation.
"Of course," Lord Fordham agreed. "Lady Hannah and I were saying just last eve that we were longing for the country already. The weather has become uncommonly hot and stuffy, London is practically unbearable."
"I agree. The Duchess and I will be travelling at the end of the week. I have been closing any affairs that cannot go with me and then we shall have a glorious month of freedom before becoming shackled with you lot," he jested light-heartedly.
Fordham chuckled, "Balderdash to you. Maybe we will stay away."
"We both know you speak nonsense. You would come even were I to insult you daily."
"That I cannot deny. Amblethorpe is one of my favourite places to be as well as the new home of one of the Countess' closest friend. Lady Hannah would not be happy if I told her we were not coming."
Henry laughed, "Well then, it seems we will be stuck with each other."
"Is that Amblethorpe you are talking of?" Lady Enderly's sharp voice interrupted their peaceful camaraderie. He felt Rosie flinch beside him, for some reason the woman made her uncomfortable, something which aided his growing dislike of her.
"Yes," he replied shortly. "We were discussing a hunting party." He hoped that would be enough to dissuade her from further enquiry. Hunting parties did not usually include single females.
Unfortunately, she was not to be put off. "I shall enjoy visiting Amblethorpe once more. I've been there so much it is like my second home."
Henry caught the look that she shot towards his beloved and stiffened alongside her. How dare this woman behave this way. "Yes, Lord Enderly was a regular visitor," he said stiffly, feeling Rosie relax a little as he deliberately rerouted Lady Enderly's misdirection. He wished he could cut the wretched woman, but she had not done quite enough to deserve it so he held his tongue. She did not need to be told she was not invited, she would discover it herself soon enough.
He would ask Wiston how serious the flirtation was. Hopefully it had not developed into anything serious and would never do so.
"When will you be heading to Abbeyford?" Rosie imperceptibly leant into him as she addressed his friend.
"We cannot go early, much to Lady Hannah's distain," Lord John laughed. "We shall leave London at the first of the month, then onto Talston to pay regards to my parents for a week or two, then back home to Abbeyford until we come to you," he grinned. "We look forward to our invitation Duchess."
Rosie laughed lightly, "And you shall have it, but I am glad to know when you cannot attend, I would not wish to upset your dear parents."
"Are you and Lady Hannah having guests as well this year," Lady Enderly asked eagerly.
"I expect so, but we will not be writing our invitations until we are at the estate. Will you be heading up to Feldham?"
"Lord no!" the lady exclaimed, a vision of disgust upon her countenance. "I spent too many months there in mourning. It is a drab place, Mark will probably get rid of it when he is of age. I shall be glad to be shot of it."
Mark was her son, he must be around three by now but Henry had no idea where he was.
"Does he reside there now?" he asked. "Or is he in London with you?"
"Neither. I directed Nanny to take him to the coast for a few months," she said carelessly. Henry could not imagine being so with his own child. Rosie tensed beside him as she always did when the subject of children was discussed.
It was dashed unfair that someone as wonderful as Rosie could not have children, when careless women like Lady Enderly could, but neglected their God given gift. He sent up a silent plea yet again, begging for a chance for a family, but his heart was empty. He did not believe it would be so, he should give up all hope.
He felt his wife's feather-light touch as she nudged her foot to his. Seeking comfort in public without making a scene. He discretely moved his leg so it rubbed against hers as he scooped up her hand and put it firmly in the crook of his arm.
Seated or not, it was perfectly reasonable to be touching in such a way, even though a few raised eyebrows did not agree.
The evening trotted on pleasantly enough but he was glad when it was time to depart. "I have a surprise for you," he murmured once she was tucked into his arms in the carriage yawning delicately.
She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye that belied the purple smudges underneath. "What is it?"
"I shall be visiting St Luke's with you in the morning." It was high time he discovered what she did at the orphanage and the workhouse. "I've cleared my schedule."
She clapped her hands in delight. "How marvellous," she leant up to peck him on the lips. "I should lov..." the rest was engulfed in a much deeper kiss that he stole from her. How dare she think a small kiss would ever suffice?
The next morning he became acutely aware of how his wife came home so bedraggled, when the first thing she did upon entering St Luke's was sink to the floor as children ran up to her calling "Chessie" with great excitement and then crawled all over her as she greeted each by name. Every time she did, he saw a light brighten their gaze and he was astounded at the difference a name could make.
She accepted gifts of odd looking stones and random pieces of chalk and string as if each thing were the most precious thing in the universe, placing each one gently in her hand as she looked and exclaimed upon it before reverently putting it in her reticule.
"She gives them far too much attention," Mrs Green, the head of the orphanage spoke beside him in a snappish voice. "I am sure you must agree how inappropriate her behaviour is. But she will not be told."
"I should think not," he returned coldly. "Duchesses do not 'get told'."
The tall thin woman bought herself up stiffly, obviously flustered that she had misread the situation. Henry supposed the haughty and disapproving look that sat naturally upon his face had misled her. It was not intentional, but his regular countenance was intimidating to most and he took advantage of that by rarely smiling. As he had been watching his Rosie, she must have believed he was aiming it at her. Foolish woman.
"Sorry your Grace," Mrs Green bobbed another curtsey. "I... I..." she floundered, there was really no excuse she could give.
He was not about to let her off lightly. She held the lives of countless children in her hand, children that had been through enough in their short lives and needed the hand of a nurturer, not harridan. He would watch her closely and decide whether she would keep her job.
He stalked forward to where Rosie was still on the floor. All the children suddenly became aware of his presence looming above and shrunk down, some pressing into Rosie as she tried to calm their fears.
"Do not worry, for though he is tall and very scary," Rosie looked around dramatically as she whispered secretively. "He is the loveliest man you should ever meet."
A few small eyes peered up at him sceptically. He lifted his eyebrows conspiratorially and offered a small smile as she continued.
"He once helped me pick flowers," she whispered. "He also sings and dances. He holds my hand when I am scared and chases monsters away. He also loves reading, and he might even read to you today."
More grubby faces turned up towards him and he could not help the smile that broke free.
"Chessie?" a small voice asked and Rosie looked fondly at the speaker. "Is he the brave knight?"
Rosie nodded proudly, "Yes."
Hands clapped over their mouths in glee as they looked up to him. "Dookie?" they whispered.
"Yes," Rosie agreed before he could say anything.
At that, several children bounded towards his legs and wrapped themselves around him like vines. He bent down to pat each head and frowned at the flinches that came when his hand moved.
Another strike for Mrs Green.
He ignored it for now, it was not the time. Right now he wanted to know exactly what his wife had told the children about him that put such hero worship in their eyes.
They spent the morning touring the buildings, meeting more children and popping into the school. The orphanage had been founded by St Luke's church and survived on donations. By the state of the place he could tell they were not enough and suddenly knew the present he would be giving Rosie this year for her birthday.
He snorted internally. One of the presents anyway.
He would organise work to start immediately, the children would not live in squalor any longer than was necessary.
After a morning he enjoyed more than he imagined he would, he came away fully understanding why his wife had ignored his dictates. He himself was looking scruffy and would not have it any other way.
"Why Dookie and Chessie?" he asked once they left.
She smiled softly, "Some of the little ones could not say duchess. I preferred the shortening and allowed it to be used by all, which then morphed into Chessie. Dookie is the nickname for Duke obviously, I used it when telling the children about you, who you were, what you do."
She blushed, "I may have embellished some."
"Yes, but I like being a brave knight, so feel free to carry on."
She scrunched her nose in glee and placed her hand over his heart, "You are nothing less than that to me."
He inhaled deeply, she never failed to make him feel like a giant. "Vixen," he mouthed, delighting in the short gasp she emitted. She knew as well as he did where this was heading and was as excited about that as he. What a treasure she was.
"Gray," she breathed out and he held back no longer. He swooped. His mouth was on hers and within seconds she felt her fingers grasping his hair and pulling him closer. A place he was always happy to be.
Marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to him.