Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess (18 page)

Honesty nodded in agreement.

“I recognized your excellent character, the first night we met. I cannot imagine a better match than you for Greyson. We are just doubly blessed that you shall be able to handle the position of duchess so easily.”

“But, grandmother, I shan't handle it well. I am going to do something truly embarrassing and all of you will hate me.” Honesty blurted out. “I don’t know how to be a duchess.”

“Then I shall teach you after the wedding.”

“No, teach me now.” Honesty begged of the older woman. “Please teach me now.”

SarahBeth regarded the young girl. “If that is what you want.”

Honesty remembered these were the exact words used by Grey last before. It hadn’t been what she wanted last night and it was not what she wanted now, but it was what she needed to do. “Yes, please, grandmother.”

♣♣♣

Greyson arrived late for dinner that night. He had not seen Honesty all day because of several small crisis that he had to handle immediately. He bowed next to her chair and placed a chaise kiss on her gloved hand, before taking his seat.

“I trust you slept well.” Greyson tone was polite, but his eyes held a wicked glint.

Honesty bowed her head and did not answer, the color high in her cheeks.

Greyson chuckled and picked up his fork.

The dowager duchess made an announcement. “Gregory and his family and Timothy and his family should be coming any day.”

“Why are they coming so early, grandmother?” Greyson wanted to know.

“Dear, some of our family is coming from as far away as Scotland and France. They must travel in the good weather. And not chance arriving late.”

“And,” added Robert, “they must not miss the chance to sop from your table for as long as politely possible.”

Teresa’s gaze scolded her husband of four years. “Tis family.”

Robert laughed and raised his glass, “Yes, family, any reason to sit at a duke’s table and imbibe in good port.”

“Doesn’t Timothy have that gaggle of insistently twittering girls.” Greyson frowned.

“Yes, and all shall be at the table for they are of marriageable age now,” groaned Robert. Teresa slapped him on the arm with her fan.

“Please do make sure they are seated next to you, grandmother.” Greyson waved down the table at the dowager duchess. “I am sure they need more time with their grandmatron. And away from me, if you please.”

SarahBeth piped up, “Of course, Your Grace, but that will put Gregory and his wife on your end.”

Robert, Teresa, and Greyson groaned in unison. Honesty looked at each of them in speculation.

“Can we not sit them in the formal dining hall, and we will continue to eat in here?” suggested Robert hopefully.

“They are family, Robert,” reminded the dowager duchess, “and it is not so bad, Henry and Ester do not arrive until next week.”

The group groaned again.

“Well, you know what they say, two places you should never invite family to – weddings and funerals.”

“Why would you say that, Robert?”

Robert smiled, “Because at no other time, will people who have been fueding for years agree to come together under the same roof for an extended period of time. Ester cannot stand Gregory’s wife, Wanda.”

“Timothy and Henry have not talked to each other since our wedding,” added Teresa.

“And all these people will be here for the next two months?”

“Oh, yes and many more. The castle has forty bedrooms and all of them shall be filled shortly.”

Honesty paled. “How will they all be feed, with so many?”

“Do not worry,” SarahBeth explained, “all of the near relatives have been instructed to bring every servant they employ. And more will be sent from London. Our only worry is that the fall rains come early and make traveling difficult.”

Robert chuckled, “that shall not distress our family, they will just have an excuse to stay longer and drink more of Greyson’s excellent port.”

After dinner, Greyson escorted his grandmother to her suites and returned to find the group in the grand music room. Greyson turned the pages of music for Honesty as Teresa played the harp.

The dinner bell rang, and Greyson collected Honesty from the group of twittering girls that seemed to surround her at any given minute. Greyson knew he would not mind the gaggle as much if he would not so concerned with Honesty’s open tender heart. He was afraid that Honesty accepted their friendship as genuine; whereas, he knew the signs of status seeking in a least half of the young girls - all his relatives in one form or another. Greyson had gently tried on several occasions to point out the friendships were not all they seemed, but Honesty would not hear anything against her new friends. She only accused him of being cynical. He had admitted this to be true because of experience and let the topic drop. Greyson accompanied Honesty to the dining hall and sat her at his right hand. His grandmother signaled and the first course was served. Greyson watched Honesty as the soup was served. He could tell that she still was not sleeping well. She had tried to explain the emptiness that she called homesickness. The need to see the children. It dimmed the light in her eyes and dampened her happiness even now. His grandmother had said that time would ease the longing in her soul, but he didn’t see that happening. He could well imagine he would feel the same way if Honesty were to leave him. He could not imagine getting over that lose quickly. These feelings made him uneasy, he had never felt this overwhelming need for another person in his life. Not since his Nanny Morgan had died  when he was fifteen. And to know that he was the cause of Honesty’s unhappiness was a guilt that he lived with every day. He also recognized his resentment that Honesty did not feel the same way toward him. He knew that she liked him and was growing fond of him, but given the choice she would return to her children in a heartbeat. He felt guilty about forcing her hand to marry him. Now he realized that she would never have freely chosen to leave the children. He frowned at his plate.

Honesty reached forward and gently squeezed his hand. His eyes met hers. After a long conversation a couple of weeks before, he had explained that she was not to take his expression as his displease in something she had said or done. He had promised to tell her immediately if she did something he did not like. Since the discussion, Honesty had accepted his dark looks and closed countenance as the mask that it was and gave gentle encouragement when he fretted and worried. Greyson returned her gesture.

“What are your plans for the coming season?” questioned his cousin’s wife.

“We have no plans to attend the season this year,” Greyson commented in his usual flat tone.

“Oh, but you must. You cannot keep your new duchess buried in the country especially her first winter. Everyone will be looking forward to you presenting her to the ton. It is the thing, you know.”

“I am not marrying to provide the ton with entertainment. I am marrying to please myself and no others. I care not what others expect, and never have. I don’t see why I should start now.” Greyson’s tone was still dry and expressionless. A slight color touched Honesty’s cheeks. Honesty’s eyes did not lift from her concentration on her plate.

“But you must present her this winter. It is expected to introduce her to the ton before she cannot attend again,” Cousin Wanda interjected.

“What do you mean, madam?” asked Greyson in a distracted voice.

“Why, before she tends to be increasing with an heir.”

Greyson glared at the woman. First the group waited in bated breath to see if Honesty was increasing even now so that they could hold her in contempt, but at the same time expected that she should produce his heir the second they were wed. Greyson gritted his teeth; Honesty was not a brood mare, and he resented her being treated as such.

The dark edge entered his voice, the tone that told others of his wrath to come. “I would request that the lot of you stop speaking as though Honesty were not in the room. I find it very disrespectful.” The room fall silent as his words travel loud and clear down the length of the table.

“Oh, of course, Your Grace.” Wanda tittered, “No, disregard intended, dear,” she addressed herself to Honesty.

Greyson watched Honesty nodded in acceptance of the apology without lifting her head. He squeezed her hand again.

As the last course was served Honesty gently disengaged her hand from his and pulled herself up. Conversation on their end of the table was muted after his command. Greyson scowled. He remembered his grandmother’s remark that any intelligent lady would not want to be a duchess. He had taken her away from her children and given her only his status-minded family in return. He had taken away her happiness and given her position and heartache. He frowned and there was nothing he could do about the situation until September when she would be declared his duchess publically; six more week of this hell. Neither of them would make it if something did not happen to lessen the burden of the situation. He wished there was some way to have her as his wife without to duchess part. He smiled ruefully as he escorted Honesty from the dining room. He had been told his whole life that any girl would be blessed to be his duchess, but now he knew the truth. He guessed his family had not expected him to be wise enough to marry someone smart enough to recognize the situation for what it was - a burden to be endured.

Greyson collected Teresa and led Honesty on a walk in the night garden. Away from his family and the problems that watched their every move.

♣♣♣

The next day, Greyson sent a message to his grandmother requesting her presence in his study. After she arrived and was seated, Greyson had a hard time starting.

Greyson stared down at his desktop. SarahBeth waited patiently for him to pull his thoughts together.

“Honesty is not happy.” Greyson waved a hand.

“She will come around.”

“That is not the point, grandmother. She is not happy. Being married to me has not given her anything but sadness. I should not have forced her into this position that she told me repeatedly that she did not want.”

“She is trying.” The dowager duchess gave to appease.

“She is trying too hard, she should not be expected to change who she is to become my duchess. She should not be expected to give up everything she is to become someone accepted by other people.”

“She is not doing it for them. She is determined to do it for you, Greyson. She demands each day that I show her what is expected of a duchess. She is dedicated to learning to be your duchess.”

“But she is not happy. She doesn’t truly wish to be a duchess or my wife for that matter. You and I know that she would gladly return home if I allowed.” Greyson raked his hand through his hair.

SarahBeth eyed her grandson and drew in a deep breath. “Greyson, I will try to explain something to you. When I met your grandfather, Greyson William the second, as he called himself, I was immediately drawn to him. Many call it love at first sight. It is not you know. I saw something in him, your grandfather that I needed. Something that when I was with him completed me, filled a large hole in my life. And that feeling of wholeness was something I needed. Something I could not live without. Your grandfather made me feel secure, like I belonged. I latched on to that and refused to accept that we would not be married. You have heard the story many times I am sure.”

Greyson nodded.

“I had to discover what your grandfather needed from me before I could convince him that he wanted to marry me. He needed me to distract him from the burdens of his position. He needed me to be someone he could be himself with- the good and the bad. And someone he could play with… the reason I am telling you this is because I see you in the same situation. You fell in love with Honesty at first sight. What drew you to her?”

Greyson frowned, “Her happiness.”

“And now that her happiness is gone, you are questioning your marriage to her?”

“No,” Greyson glared at his grandmother for suggesting such a thing. “I took her happiness away with my selfish actions.”

SarahBeth tilted her head forward, “And what do you give to complete her. What does she need from you in return? “SarahBeth waved a hand at Greyson’s coffee cup. “You can only drink so much from a cup before you must refill it, or the cup becomes useless.”

Greyson sat and contemplated his grandmother’s words long after she was gone. What did Honesty need from him? What did he have to offer that she wanted? He stared at his empty cup. If he needed her happiness, then what did he fill her life with that would allow that joy to return and flow over on him? He thought of the times she had responded in his presence. The times he recounted in his head, each event; to find a pattern. And then he saw it. All the times he had been with her since the beginning. From the masque to the night he had kissed her. They had been alone or only in the presence of the children. And she had responded to him, even when she had been upset, she had still responded.. . because he had been straight forward in his affection. He had not been his customary reserved self when in only her presence. He had showed her his heart and she had responded. Now with this engagement they were both acting in the expected reserved manner. She had no one to show her love- the love she received unguarded from her children, and only from him in private. He remembered her grief when he had withdrawn his attention in private before. When she had decided, he had not wanted to marry her. Her happiness when he discounted that claim. Greyson frowned at this problem. He was not allowed to be alone with her, not that he trusted himself to be alone with her. What to do? The dark lines under her eyes spoke of her lack of sleep. He needed a plan, or they would not make it through the next six weeks without him taking her to bed to prove his devotion. Not that such an action did not have great appeal at the moment, and every moment between now the blasted wedding in September.

♣♣♣

Greyson arrived at the salon just as the dinner gong sounded. He made his way to Honesty’s chair. She was seated in the back of the room with his grandmother on one side and Teresa on the other. Greyson kissed his grandmother on the cheek and when moved to Honesty. She tilted her head to receive his customary peck of greeting. His lips glanced off her cheek and slid to her ear where he placed a real kiss. Honesty jumped in surprised and jerked her head toward him. Their mouths almost touching as Greyson drew back. He smiled a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. Honesty’s eyes met his in question as he stepped back and pulled her to her feet. Her gaze darted to the others in the room. Nobody seemed to have seen the exchange between the two. Greyson pulled her hand through his arm and escorted Honesty to the table. She looked disconcerted. Greyson chuckled silently to himself. This was going to be fun.

Honesty watched Greyson as the meal was served. Something had changed, but what? Honesty was intrigued as the meal progressed and Greyson continued with the sleight of hand looks that no one else seemed to see. Unseen by the others at the table, Greyson held Honesty’s left hand under the cover of the table. His thumb caressed her wrist under the edge of her lace glove. The softly spoken words as he passed the salt.   The gestures were decidedly sensual and intimate.  Greyson was flirting with her. He met her questioning gaze and the corner of his mouth tilted up; a sure sign that he was amused. Otherwise, there was no change in his manner or tone. He was as always the duke of Devonshire, his usual bored and dry self. Honesty was confused by his behavior, and was delighted when after dinner Greyson insisted on a garden walk with Teresa. As soon as they were out of the sight of the others, Honesty tried questioning Greyson, but he shushed her and pulled her along the hedgerows around the back of the house. Both women hurried to keep up with his long strides. When they reached the grand music room, Greyson pulled them inside and lit a lantern.

“Play a waltz, Teresa.” He commanded as he pulled Honesty into his arms tight against his chest and twirled her away into the darkened room.

Teresa bristled at the order but sat down at the harp and began to play.

Greyson breathed in the scent of Honesty’s hair and felt her relax in his arms. “I have waited too long between dances, my love. I apologize. I shall not allow it to happen again.” He kissed the top of her ear and heard her sigh.

“What has happened, Grey?”

“I realized today that I am playing the game by the old rules, even after I promised you that we would make rules to fit the new game we play.”

Honesty tilted her head back and looked up at him in the darkness as they continued to dance to the harp music.

“You were correct, the king and queen can only move in expected patterns, but the goal of the game defines the reason for the moves.”

Honesty shook her head in confusion at his words.

“We have been playing this game as though our wedding date meant nothing and your duchess date is the true reason for our actions.

“Duchess date?”

“Yes, the date, we declare to the world that you are  my duchess.”

Honesty giggled at his definition.

“But that is not the reason, we play the game. The goal is to free us of society’s regard. We are already married, and my heart is already yours.”

They continued to danced for several minutes as Honesty absorbed his words. “I have been playing this game as I would if I were indeed your fiancé in an arranged marriage. And this is not the case at all. I have allowed you to forget that I desire to be married to you above all else.” Greyson pulled her to stop and whispered in her ear the words that he had yet to speak to her out loud. “I love you.”