Page 72 of His Illegitimate Duchess
Pamela had managed to hold her attention for a while, but when she was finished with it, she couldn’t help but consider her parents once again.
Had her mother read the book as a young girl?
Had she deluded herself that her story would end the same way, that she’d hold onto her virtue and be rewarded for it?
Her mother never talked about faith or went to church, but could that be because she deemed herself fallen? Soiled and unworthy?
For the first time, Elizabeth realised (not without shame) that her mother had also been a victim of her father. As a child, she had been too young and selfish to worry about anyone else, so she had focused only on her own pain and feelings of abandonment.
And then I spent years fearing that my brother would abandon me like our father had , she thought and then frowned, which, ultimately, he did . And now, in true Hawkins fashion, I am abandoning my niece.
She’d never had any expectations of Charlotte, who’d always been wary and cold.
Charlotte, who had called on her sister only once since her illness.
During that visit, Lizzie just sat there, as cold and detached as Charlotte usually was, for the first time since they had been properly introduced to each other, and let her half-sister scramble to make conversation without coming to her aid once.
She smiled at the memory.
“Ma’am, the Doctor is here,” the maid’s voice roused her from her musings.
“Thank you, Susan, please send him in,” she replied, setting her now-cold cup down on the table and smoothing the skirt of her boring brown dress.
“Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Doctor Cooper, good morning,” Lizzie stood up and greeted her guest with genuine warmth in her voice. “Did Mrs. Cooper accompany you today?”
His eyes brightened at the mention of his wife, as they always did. It probably wasn’t obvious to everyone, but Elizabeth had noticed it early in their acquaintance.
“She does charitable work on Wednesdays, and usually I do, too, but your note sounded urgent.”
“I apologise, I shall not hold you up for long,” Lizzie said anxiously, but he held up his palm and shook his head to indicate she needn’t worry. “Very well, please have a seat.”
After she (politely) offered and he (even more politely) declined refreshments, Elizabeth told him the reason for her note.
“My friend is with child, for the first time in her five years of marriage, and I was wondering whether there was some particular type of help or care she needed during this time.”
“Is she certain this is the first time, and is she certain she is with child now? How many courses has she missed?”
“Let me ring for her, I’m certain she can respond to all of your questions better than I can.”
“Hold on, I would like Mrs. Cooper to examine her, she’s a very skilled midwife. I can bring her by on Friday, and you inform your friend? That way, we can settle everything at once.”
“How convenient!” Lizzie exclaimed, happy that Mary would have a familiar face helping her, and the doctor smiled at her in that kind way he had. “Thank you, Doctor. I don’t want to deprive Mrs. Cooper of your company any longer.”
“I suspect she was more upset at missing the chance to see you than she was at my absence,” he joked good-naturedly.
“And will you both please stay and join us for dinner on Friday?”
“Thank you for the invitation,” he bowed as he stood up, “it will be our pleasure. Now, if you would please excuse me, I have several books on German philosophy in my carriage that I need to leave with your husband’s valet.”
*
Two days later, Jane brought a stack of cards and invitations into the drawing room where Lizzie was knitting another miniature item for Mary’s baby. The older woman stood and tapped her foot impatiently until Lizzie looked up.
“Why haven’t you been going anywhere lately, Miss Lizzie?” She asked with a frown.
“I’m still recovering,” Lizzie prevaricated, hiding her eyes from Jane.
“I can’t keep telling people you’re not home.”
“Just yesterday I entertained Elinor and Louisa!”
“For half an hour. And I saw their faces when they left.” Jane said, wringing her hands.
“Whatever you think you might have imagined on their faces wasn’t real. Our visit was actually a very good one. We’re moving Elinor into the Duke’s townhouse, seeing as he lives here now, and her cousin no longer wants to support her,” Elizabeth said, putting all her energy into appearing animated.
“Don’t try that false cheer on me,” Jane warned. “You’re not behaving like yourself, my child,” she said a moment later in a dejected voice.
Elizabeth stood up and hugged her. She was getting older and slower, but to Lizzie, she still seemed larger and more capable than life.
“I know, Jane, but I shall again, very soon. I promise,” she whispered into her ear.
Elizabeth’s husband walked in and cleared his throat, causing them to break the hug. Jane curtsied to him.
“Jane, would you please go and call my mother down for tea?” Lizzie said, opting for pre-emption, in case her husband wanted to sit alone with her.
Most days, she managed to fill the spaces they were in with additional people – Lady Burnham was a regular guest at dinner, as was Andrew (who had been offered the Norwich living and had enthusiastically accepted it!), and since Mr and Mrs Brandon were in town during Norwich’s slowest months, they also joined them for dinner twice a week.
The Brandons had invited the Talbots to the opera, dances, and pleasure gardens several times, since they were determined to extract as much enjoyment out of what the city had to offer during their visit, but Lizzie couldn’t bear the thought of being looked at or whispered about, so she’d continuously cited her still recovery as a reason not to join them.
It was a draining way to live life – being in an awful, seemingly unresolvable argument with your husband while wanting to keep up a facade of civility and pretence for the people around you; the same people you needed around you in order to avoid being alone with your husband.
These circumstances, coupled with the very real aftermath of her illness, had caused Elizabeth to be perpetually exhausted.
Her husband cleared his throat again, but she refused to look at him.
“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the theatre tonight?” he asked, sounding nervous, which he had good reason to be.
This was perhaps the eighth invitation he’d issued in the last three weeks, separately from the Brandons – he’d asked her to go to the park, for a ride, to an acquaintance’s ball, to the opera – and each time was met with a polite but firm no.
“No, thank you.”
“Elizabeth,” he started saying, and then she did look up, but only to glare at him for taking liberties with her name.
He met her eyes calmly. “I worry about you. You never leave the house any more, nor do you want to be among people.”
“Can you truly not understand why? It was bad enough when everyone judged me for seducing you into marrying beneath you, but now you want me to also subject myself to whispers about your cruel games with me? I think I’d rather not.”
“There won’t be any whispers about that,” he said fervently.
“I am sure your beloved Lady Helena is spending every waking moment spreading the news to whoever will listen. What a shame that you were unable to marry her – she’d be your perfect duchess,” Lizzie said, with more jealousy than she’d intended.
“I already have my perfect duchess,” Talbot said with an arrogantly raised eyebrow, as if she were being preposterous.
She opened her mouth to continue arguing, but heard her mother approach.
“Doctor and Mrs. Cooper are joining us for dinner tonight,” she said instead, her instinct to conceal her private matters, even from her mother, stronger than her anger.
“Ma, there you are,” she said, wanting to irritate Talbot even further with her unrefined ways, but he merely looked amused, like he knew what she was doing and enjoyed it.
“I was just telling His Grace that Doctor and Mrs. Cooper are joining us for dinner tonight.”
“How delightful,” Miss Williams said sincerely, “I like them both very much. Did you know that Mrs. Cooper grew up in Shropshire like I did?” She asked the duke.
“I did not,” he replied.
Lizzie itched to add that there were a multitude of things about her mother she didn’t know but now sort of wished she did.
Jane entered with the tea things.
“Are you joining us for tea?” Catherine asked the duke, who glanced at his wife and opened his mouth to reply, but was most rudely interrupted by her saying, “The duke was just telling me about a most unfortunate estate management crisis he has to deal with before dinner.”
Lizzie lifted both eyebrows at her husband as if daring him to contradict her, almost gloating at her small victory, but upon seeing the joy in his eyes caused by this intimate game that only the two of them were privy to, she deflated and unceremoniously slumped down in one of the chairs next to the embroidery basket.
“My wife is right, I do have urgent business to attend to,” Talbot told her mother apologetically. “I shall see you both at dinner.”
As she rummaged around the basket, Lizzie felt her mother’s inquisitive glances, but luckily, Catherine said nothing.
The young duchess found herself actually putting in some effort as she got ready for dinner that evening, and she exhaled in relief.
Not feeling like myself has been most taxing , she thought as she chatted with Mary, who was curling her hair with heated tongs.
“And if you have any complaints whatsoever, tell me, and we’ll send for Mrs. Cooper immediately. She is a midwife.”
“Heavens, Lizzie, why are you so anxious? Isn’t, I’m not an invalid, your favourite sentence in the world?” Mary teased.
“We’re not talking about me now. That’s my niece or nephew in there, you know,” Lizzie gestured at her friend’s middle.
“That reminds me,” Mary said, “I sent word to Thomas. Do you think he’ll finally visit?”
“For your child, I’m sure he will,” Lizzie said, and they shared a smile in the mirror.
*
At dinner, Elizabeth and her husband sat at each end of the table, so she was at least safe from his physical proximity, but whenever their eyes met, she felt like they were the only two people in the room.
When Colin licked his lips after biting into a salted piece of fish, Lizzie thought back to when he’d licked her…
there. She squeezed her eyes shut to dispel the unwanted memory, and then squeezed her thighs together as well.
What was wrong with her?! It was as if she were possessed by some hungry, unchaste thing.
She calmly tried telling herself that, over the last few months, her body had most likely learned to crave his skilled touch (she was honest enough with herself to acknowledge this) and tried very hard not to look in his direction again.
“Mrs. Cooper,” she said between the first and second courses, “Doctor Cooper tells me that you spend your Wednesdays doing voluntary work?”
Mrs. Cooper glanced adoringly at her husband, who always seemed to keep her in his line of sight somehow, and nodded, “I do. Doctor Cooper and I try to help the less fortunate as much as we can.”
Lizzie perked up. “I used to help organise charitable events back in Norwich, and I enjoyed it greatly. Could you please tell me more about the work?”
Mrs. Cooper set her fork down and seemed to consider the request for a moment.
“There are four institutions we help at, and we typically visit two on one Wednesday, and then we alternate. This Wednesday, I visited one of the poorhouses set up by the parish.”
“Like a workhouse?” Miss Williams asked.
“Similar. Poorhouses don’t deal with the able-bodied poor. We see many war invalids, permanently injured or disfigured labourers, elderly homeless people, and the like.”
Lizzie's heart ached at the plight of these people.
“And then I helped at the Foundling Hospital, where unwanted children are cared for, perhaps you’ve heard of it.”
Lizzie shook her head, and Talbot nodded.
“The Doctor and I not only provide medical aid to these children, but we also try to participate in the education of the younger ones. The older ones often opt for apprenticeships when they are 14 or 16.”
“Interesting,” Lizzie said, all sorts of questions and thoughts buzzing around her head about these unwanted children. “What of the other two institutions?”
Mrs. Cooper shifted in her chair, looking uncomfortable, and directed a pleading look at Elizabeth’s mother, who seemed uncertain of what was expected of her.
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate dinner conversation. One is a lying-in hospital for married poor women, and the other one is for…” She said in a lowered voice, then leaned in and raised both eyebrows meaningfully as she whispered to Lizzie, “penitent prostitutes.”
“I see,” Lizzie nodded seriously. “We can talk more when the men retire.”
“Do you accept new helpers?” Duke Talbot, who hadn’t heard the whispered exchange, asked from his end of the table.
“Of course!” Doctor Cooper replied jovially. “There’s always work to be done.”
“I’m not certain His Grace would derive pleasure from such work,” Mrs Cooper said awkwardly, but Lizzie felt unholy glee at the thought of the arrogant duke spending time with elderly paupers and former prostitutes.
“Charity is good for the soul,” Dr Cooper said, and no one could argue against that.
Mrs. Cooper’s husband, however, wasn’t the only one who always kept an eye on his wife.
Talbot had seen Elizabeth’s reaction at the mention of helping the less fortunate, and he was determined to use her charitable impulses to trick her into spending more time with him and seeing that he was a changed man.
And yes, he was aware of the irony of that plan.
Before retiring to the library, the men had arranged for the four of them to meet up the following Wednesday for the Talbots’ first voluntary assignment.
Elizabeth was overjoyed – not only would she get the opportunity to do something God-pleasing and meaningful with her time, but her husband would most likely refuse to approach the poor, scoff, or behave terribly in some other way, which would enable her to, once and for all, succeed in suffocating the last of the tenderness she still held for him in her heart.