Page 8 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)
Ducking her head to look out of the window at her new home, Hannah was momentarily surprised to see a row of uniformed staff standing in a line at the bottom of the concrete steps. Immediately, she recalled her position – arriving for the first time as the new lady of the household; it was expected the staff should assemble to meet her, however, she had been so preoccupied with her thoughts and disordered feelings about the day that this particular ceremony had slipped her mind.
She felt suddenly panicked that she had not had a moment to compose herself for the formal introductions, but looking down realised that she could not be dressed more formally than in her beautiful silk wedding dress. She ran a preparatory hand over her hair to ensure it was still neat and, satisfied that her curls had stayed as tight as they were that morning, quickly pinched her cheeks to present a vitality that she did not feel.
The carriage doors were being opened and a footman assisted Hannah down the step onto the pavement. A thin woman with grey hair tied back into a neat bun approached, with a tentative smile.
‘Your Grace,’ the lady curtsied, ‘welcome to your new home. It will be our pleasure to serve you. My name is Margaret and I am the Housekeeper of the Montwood family London home.’
Hannah bobbed and smiled, holding out her hand to shake Margaret’s.
‘It is good to meet you, Margaret.’
Margaret turned to gesture toward the line of staff, all of whom took great interest in this new member of the household. Hannah made her way slowly along the line, taking care to look each person in the eye respectfully, as she had been taught growing up.
When she reached the last maid, Lucy appeared at the end of the line, having recently arrived at the house herself. Hannah and Lucy shared a small private smile of solidarity and Hannah looked up at the grand house for the first time – it was at least four storeys high and was decorated with elaborate stone emblems and craftsmanship. Hannah had been accustomed to luxurious houses, but the size of this one posed to intimidate her. She breathed deep and lifted her chest to promote a confidence she did not feel, before Lucy and another maid scurried to assist her with her dress train as she ascended the steps.
The hallway opened up onto marble floors of monochrome tiles and opulent gold banisters and chandeliers. Hannah smiled in appreciation of the beautiful home and tried to maintain that positivity as she saw the Dowager Duchess standing in the hallway next to Emmeline, ready to receive her.
Hannah expected some sort of conversation would ensue, but there was only silence as Caleb’s valet removed his jacket and all the staff followed the couple inside the house and congregated formally in a new line along the expansive hallway. Emmeline sneaked a supportive smile at Hannah, which she appreciated greatly in the charged atmosphere.
Once all staff were reassembled, the Dowager Duchess spoke.
‘You have met the Duke’s bride, her Grace Hannah Exley, the Duchess of Montwood. Note that I am still the Lady of the House and the running of the household will continue under my direction.’
Her voice drawled with authority and entitlement as she looked each staff member pointedly in the eye, almost daring them to dispute her statement.
Hannah immediately noticed the discomfort of the household staff – their eyes shifted warily from the Dowager Duchess, to Hannah, gauging her reaction, to the Duke, almost as though they expected he might step in. Some shifted awkwardly, not knowing how this predicament might evolve.
Hannah looked to Caleb, whose eyes shot daggers at his mother, his jaw flexing tensely. It was clear to Hannah that he was incensed by his mother’s blatant undermining of Hannah’s new position in the household, but knew that he could not cause a scandal by speaking out in front of their assembled staff and risk humiliating his mother. As her husband, he should be her defender and in one sentence, Anne had also stripped him of this faculty. Hannah felt a warm blush creep up her neck and colour her face. She was now the Mistress of these people, but the Dowager Duchess was asserting power over her, to make her look small and reduce the staff’s level of respect for her. The dynamic was cleverly orchestrated by Anne and she smiled manipulatively at Caleb before turning her attention back to Hannah and replacing the smile with a scowl. Hannah knew everybody could see it and – whilst they would all be familiar with the Dowager Duchess’s challenging disposition, it still felt exposing and demeaning.
Emmeline looked worriedly about at all the key players in this difficult dynamic and decisively pasted on a smile, stepping forward toward Hannah, her arms wide.
‘Sister!’ she grinned and embraced Hannah warmly. ‘Welcome to your new home. We will ensure you are made perfectly happy here!’
Hannah felt so grateful for the levity of Emmeline’s interruption.
‘Come,’ Emmeline took Hannah’s hand, ‘I will show you to your bedchamber. Samson has already deposited your bags in your dressing room…’
With girlish enthusiasm, Emmeline led Hannah deeper into the house.
Barely able to retain his composure, Caleb instructed ‘Staff, dismissed. Thank you for your time.’
The assembled crowd scurried off in different directions to return to various tasks and duties as Caleb turned abruptly to Anne.
‘Mother. A word.’ He assertively strode into a parlour side-room off the hallway. He held the door open for Anne, who followed, rolling her eyes as though she were a child expecting castigation.
Closing the door once she’d entered, Caleb turned to his mother with a fury blazing in his eyes.
‘Mother, what was that performance?’ Caleb demanded.
‘Whatever do you reference?’ Anne feigned ignorance.
‘It is already expected that you would retain the authority over the household staff – your announcement was entirely superfluous. You humiliated my bride in front of an audience of our household staff. It was utterly inappropriate and unnecessary.’
‘On the contrary,’ Anne shrugged ‘it is my belief that your wife has no experience in leading a household. I am merely releasing her from the obligation – she should be thankful.’
‘Mother, no young bride yet has such experience – this is when she will learn to run a household, as did you. I have no doubt that your words were aimed to cause injury and not directed as a favour.’
‘Caleb dear, if you do wish to bathe in a dirty bathroom and receive uncooked meals because your new wife is incompetent at delegating duties as a Duchess must-’
‘My wife is absolutely capable of such tasks! I am perplexed as to why you should make presumptions with regard to her abilities!’ Caleb had raised his voice louder as his frustration with his impossibly mannered mother grew.
In turn, Anne also raised her voice with an agitating shrillness.
‘I beseech you, Caleb, she is not capable. She is not fit to be Duchess of Montwood. Your father was a fool that chose her and I consider you foolish in marking his words with such finality as to execute a marriage based solely on his preposterous impulses!’
‘Mother, you will be quiet!’ Caleb yelled this and then stilled himself, realising the staff may be able to hear their quarrel – or worse still, Hannah. He took a deep breath as his mother watched on, amused by his outburst.
‘Hannah is my bride; my new wife and the right Duchess of Montwood. Whether or not this pleases you, we neither seek nor require your approval. This is an unnerving time for any young bride – perhaps you can take yourself back to a time that this predicament applied to you and find some empathy…’
‘I never struggled…’ Anne shrugged indifferently.
‘Neither shall Hannah, if we afford her the respect and support she deserves.’
‘Hmph,’ Anne disregarded his instruction and made to leave the room.
‘Mother, you will not treat her with such contempt, am I understood?’
Anne turned at the door to say her closing piece.
‘I am merely defending the Montwood legacy, Caleb. Your father was imbecilic and ill-advised, you seem determined to pursue his misguided direction. The girl is not fit to be Duchess of Montwood and I refuse to conform to this impractical facade.’
With that, she opened the door and swiftly exited to the hallway.
Caleb was so enraged that his mother had such determination to make trouble for him, that he kicked out at a waste paper basket and laid his palms flat on a nearby surface, breathing deep into his shoulders with his eyes closed.
Anne wanted to distance him from Hannah; she would humiliate his bride in the hope of casting her in a disappointing, lame role. Caleb resolved that – in the light of this common enemy – he and Hannah may need to pull together more steadfastly to show a solid partnership that his mother could not break down. He reasoned that perhaps a distant arrangement between Hannah and himself may not be advisable – his bride would need his support and, as her husband, it was his responsibility and honour to provide it.