Page 65 of His Illegitimate Duchess

P art of Duke Colin Talbot’s new routine was waking up at dawn in his wife’s old room (he’d taken to sleeping in the once blood-stained bed as a penance of sort for himself), and sending for the cook almost immediately to make sure (to Mrs. Clark’s great annoyance) that the breakfast pastries would be to the duchess’s liking.

Elizabeth took her breakfast in her room these days, and Colin usually didn’t see her until after.

After he was done getting ready (with Stevenson’s help, naturally), he would look over that day’s selection of sweetmeats (he had arranged for a reputable confectionery shop to deliver a box of their best products to his residence daily), and, with the box in hand, Talbot would make his way downstairs, patiently counting down the minutes until he could look in on his wife.

It had been three days since Elizabeth had woken up, which meant there had been three separate breakfasts, three boxes of sweetmeats, three evenings he’d spent reading to her and sitting by her bedside after dinner, and not one single word from her mouth spoken directly to him since her initial request for Mary.

That did not stop Colin from trying to say something , to explain, to apologise to her again, but his wife was either never alone (and he suspected that this was by her design), or she would close her eyes and pretend to sleep whenever she felt he might start talking to her.

Not even Colin was monster enough to wake up and torment a sick person, let alone accuse them of faking sleep, so he would remain seated by her bed for hours, sometimes talking quietly, more to himself than to her, sometimes combing her hair, and sometimes just staring at her peaceful face.

Today’s delivery was different from all the others, however, and was, in Talbot’s mind, certainly going to soften his wife’s heart.

“Good morning,” he said when he entered her room.

“Good morning,” Lizzie’s mother replied, then anxiously glanced at her daughter, who didn’t acknowledge the newcomer in any way.

“How are you feeling today?” Colin asked gently, ready to be rejected again.

“Doesn’t she look much better today, Your Grace?” Catherine interjected, attempting (in vain) to rescue all three of them from the palpable tension in the room. “Her colour has returned, as has her appetite.”

She glanced at his empty hands, her widening eyes betraying her surprise.

“Today’s gift is… sweet in a different way,” Colin said and headed to the door.

When he opened it, a very tall dog with drooping ears and a wrinkled brow ran into the room, and Catherine cried out.

“What is this?!”

Lizzie looked like she was about to burst out laughing as she offered her hand to the dog, who sniffed and licked it excitedly. Talbot had given the breeder some of Elizabeth’s hair ribbons weeks ago, so Thunder was already familiar with her scent.

“This is Thunder,” Colin said proudly, expecting Lizzie to laugh upon hearing the name, but her face remained impassive.

“Pardon?” Catherine was still on her feet, hiding behind her armchair, like she’d done when she first saw the mastiff.

“I’ve purchased this dog for my wife, and his name is Thunder. He is an English mastiff, and he is almost one year old.”

“Is he… where is he going to live? He’s so big,” Catherine inquired, clearly horrified at the idea of sharing a home with the slobbering giant.

Talbot wanted to laugh as he thought of what Miss Williams would say if he told her that Thunder hadn’t finished growing, but then decided to answer her question.

“His breed is most suitable for hunting or guarding property, so when we’re not in Norwich, he will spend his days outside in the garden. ”

That seemed to mollify Catherine a bit.

“Do you like him, Lizzie?” she asked her daughter, who nodded wordlessly, which for Colin was the highlight of his day.

Lizzie was gently stroking the dog’s head, and Colin found himself jealous of an animal.

There truly is a first time for everything, he thought.

“Can you ring for Mrs White?” Elizabeth told her mother, and Colin’s skin erupted in gooseflesh upon hearing her voice.

“What for, my dear?”

“I want my things moved back to my room. And I shall like a bath,” she replied.

“Don’t forget, your brother is coming to see you today,” Colin reminded her, pretending he was part of the conversation.

“How lovely, I haven’t seen Nicholas in ages,” Catherine said, since Lizzie didn’t look up from Thunder.

“Well,” Colin said, patting his knee as he stood up, “I shall see you both later then. I will be in my study if you need me.”

Talbot had never been as happy to see Hawkins as that day, since his presence allowed him a legitimate excuse to see his wife three times in one day.

“How is she?” Nicholas asked after the pleasantries were out of the way.

“Her health is improving,” Talbot said. “But she hasn’t spoken a word to me in three days.”

“You deserve nothing less,” Hawkins said smugly.

“You think she will treat you any better?” Talbot countered, and Hawkins’s face fell.

“I hope she will,” he said after a while.

“Try not to agitate her too much, all right?”

“Don’t tell me how to interact with my own sister,” Hawkins said, and Talbot shrugged.

“Whatever you say.”

“Hello, sister,” Nicholas said cheerfully. “How are you feeling?”

When he received no reply, he glanced at Talbot, who gave him a pointed look, as if to say, See?

“I’ve been most anxious to see you again, because I wanted to apologise to you in person, Elizabeth,” he said in a more serious tone then.

“For what exactly?” Lizzie asked without looking up from her knitting.

It looked like she was making some sort of little garment, something for a baby, perhaps? Colin’s heart contracted painfully.

Had she started it for their child? Had she suspected she was increasing?

Had she been?

“For saying those awful things to you the night the two of you… Got engaged. Talbot has come clean and explained the circumstances to me…”

“That’s not what you should be apologising for.”

Colin had never heard his wife use that tone with anyone, least of all her beloved brother. Her mother’s words about Lizzie’s capacity for holding on to her anger swam to the forefront of his mind, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

“Pardon?”

“That. Is. Not. What. You. Should. Be. Apologizing. For.” Elizabeth repeated slowly and rather unkindly. “You should be apologising for having known me for three years and for never having taken the time to discover who I am or to question your belief that I am of low breeding.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Nicholas sighed, and Talbot wanted to roll his eyes. “When I first met you, I was going through some things in my marriage,” Hawkins faltered, and Elizabeth interrupted him.

“Let me guess,” Lizzie tapped her chin with her index finger as she narrowed her eyes and pretended to think, “does it have something to do with the mistress whose house you set me up in? What an appropriate abode for my mother and me,” she said with disdain.

Nicholas looked at Talbot reproachfully, but the other man was too glad not to be the target of his wife’s venom to care about his friend’s anger.

“Well, yes, but…”

“What about the years that followed? You and your wife seemed all right to me then.”

Nicholas hung his head, clearly trying to think of something to say. What he came up with was, “I tried to do right by you.”

“By throwing money at me? Money that our scoundrel father owed me? I was so stupid,” she spat as she threw the knitting on the floor by the bed, “I so desperately wanted your love and approval and to be accepted by my father’s family, -”

“You were accepted, Elizabeth,” Nicholas protested vehemently.

“Oh, was I? I must have imagined how cold and dismissive Charlotte always was of me, or how everyone always left me out, and don’t even get me started on our insufferable Aunt Isolde, who you saddled me with to safeguard your precious reputation.

Well, I never did anything to hurt it! I only agreed to the marriage mart, hoping to make you less embarrassed of having a bastard sister! ”

Both men winced at her choice of words but were wise enough to remain quiet.

“My brother so wholeheartedly accepted me that he couldn’t even set aside two seconds to listen to me before insulting me.” She slammed her palm down on the pillow next to her as she kept raising her voice. “I didn’t realise…” Nicholas stammered.

“If I was accepted, tell me, would you have treated Charlotte the same way if it had been her in that coat room with Talbot? Would she have had to marry him?”

Nicholas clenched his jaw, and his unspoken answer hung in the air, apparent to all three of them. Elizabeth looked hurt by this, like she had been holding on to a kernel of hope, against her better judgment. She slumped back in bed, drained of all her previous vigour.

“Well, this ill-bred bastard has had enough,” she said in a hoarse voice, and poked the centre of her chest with her index finger as she said it.

The hurt radiated from her in waves strong enough to knock both men over. Colin wanted to take it and inflict it on himself instead. Unlike him, she didn’t deserve it.

“All this time, I worried that Talbot was forced to give me his name, like my father had been. I should have known better than to trust a duke,” she whispered, and both men shifted uneasily. “They always find a way to make you feel like dirt.” This time, she looked directly at her husband.

“You won. I’m too tired to fight what you two think of me. So go, enjoy your relationship with your well-bred, proper, full sister, Your Grace, and leave me to rot here,” she choked on her tears, and Talbot tilted his head at the door to indicate to his friend that it was time to leave.

“And tell Aunt Isolde to leave me alone!”

Nicholas opened his mouth to say something, but Talbot shook his head decisively, and his friend ignored him. It seemed that Nicholas shared that inclination with his sister.