Page 11 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 11

“ I ’ve never driven before,” Joanna said anxiously as they stood at the opening of the stables, eyeing the new gold and black phaeton.

Eleanor was petting the horses as their stablemaster hitched the two to the carriage. Whirling around in shock, she asked, “What? Not even a cart?”

Shifting from foot to foot in embarrassment, Joanna shook her head. “I don’t even know how to ride a horse. We’ve always been in London. I’ve driven in a few hacks, but otherwise, I always walked or took a carriage. We’ve never… I never…”

“Oh. Yes.” Her sister-in-law walked over to her. “Your mother. You must be quite uncomfortable around horses in general, then. Would you rather take the carriage?”

Joanna eyed the phaeton warily as she noticed it bouncing slightly when a stableboy was fixing the ropes.

Reins, she remembered absently.

She hardly knew the right words or ways to do anything. The suggestion she had made the other day to go shopping for Eleanor––a lavender dress had to be acceptable by now––was growing more complicated than she had expected it to be.

I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. It’s not as though I’ve visited the dressmaker’s frequently over the last three years. But Eleanor deserves better, and I thought I could be a proper sister or duchess and sort this out.

Not wanting to cause any problems simply because of her ignorance, she hastily shook her head. “No, no, this should be fine.”

Eleanor glanced over at the horses, the little open carriage, and then at Joanna. “We’ll save shopping for another day,” she declared suddenly. “Today, you shall learn to drive the phaeton. It was practically a wedding gift, Joanna, and you deserve to know how to take yourself anywhere you want.”

“I didn’t think a duchess should do that.”

“Probably not,” Eleanor admitted with a sheepish grin. She climbed into the phaeton with little help, and it gave Joanna hope. “But I like you the way you are, and Charlotte makes for a new kind of duchess as well. I think you can do whatever you like. Unless, of course, you do not want to learn how to drive?”

Joanna swallowed as her cheeks flushed. “I suppose you have a point. I really should learn. And I think I would like to…” She rounded the phaeton, giving the horses a wide berth, and then nodded to the stablemaster, who had offered to help her up.

But he moved faster than she had expected.

“Oh!” she cried when she tumbled into Eleanor’s lap.

“Sorry, Your Grace,” the chagrined servant said.

“Are you all right?” Eleanor asked, pulling her upright.

“Fine! I’m fine. Splendid, even.” Joanna forced a smile while hoping her cheeks weren’t too red. She lacked even half the grace Eleanor had. But perhaps that was something she would need to practice. “Shall we?”

Eleanor studied her before nodding to the stablemaster and the stableboy. “We’ll be back in an hour or so, I believe.”

“Shall we send a rider after you, My Lady?”

Though Joanna silently wished for one, she didn’t want to appear too meek. So she said nothing when Eleanor refused. “I know exactly what I’m doing. We’ll be careful, I promise.”

In her defense, Eleanor was correct.

Joanna could not relax during her impromptu driving lesson, particularly when she was handed the reins. They were trapped in the afternoon traffic, so she couldn’t even do anything, but her nerves remained.

“Joanna, is that you?”

She threw the reins back into Eleanor’s hands at once at the familiar voice. Feeling the blood drain from her face, she glanced around warily, only to see her stepmother and stepsister approaching them from the walking path close by.

She plastered on a smile. “Good afternoon, My Lady.”

“Oh, you know you should call me Mother.” Beatrice’s tart response was masked by a brisk smile. Her gaze flitted between Joanna and Eleanor rapidly. “Won’t you introduce us?”

Eleanor had shrunk back in her seat, shy as ever. Sometimes it was easy to forget that, since the two of them spent so much time at home.

Joanna attempted to relax to help ease her nerves. “You have been introduced, My Lady. This is my new sister by marriage, Lady Eleanor. Lady Eleanor, this is my stepmother, Lady Beatrice Crampton, and my stepsister, Lady Madeline.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you again,” Eleanor said so softly that Joanna wasn’t sure if anyone else could hear her.

“What a surprise to see you out and about so soon after the wedding. This must mean you have grown comfortable in your new home.” Beatrice spoke over Madeline when she opened her mouth. “You should have said something, Joanna, or we would have visited.”

The notion made Joanna freeze. “Visited?”

I have sent a total of four letters to my family in the two weeks since I have been married and haven’t received a response. And now she is complaining?

She had started to regret sending those letters. But she couldn’t help herself. Eleanor was sweet, and the household was kind. She liked her new home. However, being away from her family and childhood home was disorienting.

As glad as Joanna was to be free of it, she hadn’t been able to let go of it. Or them .

“Certainly,” Beatrice huffed. She looked like she was about to frown but then hastily masked it with a radiant smile when two other ladies walked by, nodding politely to them. When her stepmother turned back to her, Joanna saw the daggers in her eyes. “We shall fix this at once. Be at home tomorrow, and I shall visit first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, I?—”

“Very good. Now, straighten your spine and keep your chin up. You must remember you are a duchess.”

Then off Beatrice went.

Madeline opened her mouth again, but seeing her mother’s quick strides, she bobbed a hasty curtsy and waved before rushing off as well.

Traffic picked up at the same time, so Eleanor had something to occupy her hands. An awkward silence fell between them. Joanna listened to the erratic beating of her heart, and she started to sink into her seat before remembering Beatrice’s advice.

“Are you well?” Eleanor asked once they turned onto a quieter street.

“Yes,” Joanna said at once. “Quite well. And you?”

“Yes. I only…”

She swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“It is nothing. Would you… would you like me t-to be there for the visit tomorrow?”

Joanna looked at her, her heart melting.

Eleanor was such a dear, trying to be brave for her. There was so little unsaid right then. Though Joanna wanted to share everything, as Eleanor had begun to do with her, she couldn’t find the words. She bit her tongue for a long moment before she could speak.

“Thank you, but that is all right. I know how you treasure your morning piano practice,” Joanna said.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.” She offered a brave smile. “It will go well.”

Though Joanna had to convince Eleanor of this once more that evening, and again the following morning when they broke their fast together, she had not exactly convinced herself. But the answer never changed.

That was how she wound up in the small parlor, seated with her stepmother at her elbow and Madeline across the small table. Already she could count five things she had done wrong.

“Oh, let me take care of that. I won’t spill.” Beatrice elbowed her neatly out of the way to pour the tea.

Six.

Joanna managed a squeak and a nod, watching the older woman expertly pour three cups of tea. That was the duty of the hostess, and she was the hostess, not Beatrice. They all knew this. And yet…

She glanced up and met Madeline’s eyes. Though she had hoped to see some companionship there, her stepsister only managed a tight-lipped smile before politely accepting her teacup and saucer.

“See? If she can do this perfectly, then you should be able to do the same,” Beatrice told Joanna. “You’re too old to be taught etiquette.”

Weighing her options, Joanna decided to try being tactful. She forced a smile and copied Madeline’s smooth movements. This would need to go well, or she would never hear the end of it. And what if Beatrice told Lady Lisabeth, who in turn would tell the whole ton that she wasn’t a proper duchess?

“I shall endeavor to improve on my own, then,” Joanna said with a forced smile. The tea had no sugar, but she chose not to complain. “I am rather glad of your visit today, Stepmother. I wonder if you have received my letters?”

Setting down her teacup, Beatrice waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, you really should work on your calligraphy. Now, I believe you have recently hired two new chambermaids, but several rooms remain closed up. Are you leaving for the country?”

Joanna wished her father were here. But he never was. He hadn’t responded to her letters either. Had he simply washed his hands of her for good? Did he not care to even tell her not to write to him anymore?

She struggled to keep her thoughts straight with the maelstrom of feelings inside her.

“What? I mean, I have, yes. But I’m not leaving anywhere.” She furrowed her brow. “Those rooms aren’t––”

“Every room should always be kept ready. You’re a duchess now. You’ll be hosting dignitaries and royalty.” Beatrice tsked. “Are you even prepared to host? It seems you’re attending dinner parties in your own home, Joanna.”

Joanna. It’s always Joanna. Like I’ll never be anything more than a squalling, stubborn brat. If I’m so dreadful, why can she not leave me alone?

“The dinner party was a surprise. Eleanor was welcoming me to the family,” Joanna explained. “I couldn’t host a party I had no notice of, nor did I want to take that from her.”

“She’s rather an odd one,” Beatrice noted.

Joanna huffed, ready to come to her sister-in-law’s defense.

“Is she like the Duke in that way? He’s not particularly friendly.”

“He doesn’t have to be if he doesn’t wish to be.”

Beatrice looked her right in the eye. Usually, she looked at her out of the corner of her eye or down her nose.

Though Joanna had wanted the woman to look at her properly for years, she wasn’t prepared for this moment. Her entire body stiffened as the older woman took her time scrutinizing her.

“Your father told me that he’s on several committees in Parliament. Is he a busy man?”

“Yes, he’s very busy,” Joanna said tersely.

“I can see that he’s not here to host with you. Do you spend much time with your new husband?”

Joanna swallowed. “I spend enough time with him.”

Beatrice’s eyes glinted. “Then you know him well?”

Feeling like she’d fallen into some sort of trap she didn’t understand, Joanna forced herself to nod. “Well enough.” Then, she dared to ask, “Are you asking for marriage advice, Stepmother?”

Though she had hoped to get a rise out of Beatrice, Joanna was disappointed to hear only a scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Finish your tea, Joanna.”

She started to reach for her teacup before changing her mind. This was, she had to remind herself sternly, her home. That meant only her rules applied here. She could make whatever rules she wanted. No one could tell her otherwise.

Although she’d known this before, Joanna had not really considered what it might mean. But now, she did.

Her cup remained untouched on the tray.

“Thank you, but no. I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere and will need to take my leave. Can you find your way to the door?”

Astonishment flashed across her stepmother’s and Madeline’s faces. They gaped at her as she stood up.

“Joanna, what are you doing?” Beatrice hissed.

But Joanna felt only the smallest hint of regret. “I’m terribly sorry, but I must go. You are welcome to finish your tea and enjoy this fine parlor. I’ll have the butler see you out when you are ready. Thank you for the visit, and I look forward to seeing you both again very soon.”

Then, she left before they could say anything else.

Feeling rather gleeful, she skipped down the hall without any plans. It didn’t quite matter what she did. Her stepmother couldn’t force her to do anything. Perhaps she would feel more guilty later, but she felt rather free right now.

She decided she would treat herself to a fresh scone. The cook had made a fresh batch this morning. Too nervous to eat much, she’d avoided more than one egg and a bit of ham. But now, she was hungry enough to eat every scone left in the house.

On her cheerful walk toward the kitchens, she slowed down when she thought she heard voices nearby. She hated interrupting and came to a complete halt when she realized that only one of the voices belonged to a servant. The other voice belonged to her husband.

What is he doing at home at this hour? I wonder if something is wrong. Perhaps he needs me. Or something.

Her heart rate quickened as she heard him chuckle. It was as though her mind emptied out like the azure sky on a sunny day. All was bright and warm and blank.

She swallowed, tiptoeing closer to see what could have made him laugh at an hour like this.

The other voice belonged to Mary, one of the new chambermaids. She dropped the feather duster she had brushed over the Duke’s face, beaming.

“See? I’m not ticklish,” he said in a low voice, just loud enough for Joanna to hear from around the corner. She could only see half of his face as he smiled at the maid. “But something tells me that you are.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you intend to find out?”

The giggles and smiles were evidence enough of their flirtation at the moment. Joanna’s stomach churned as she turned around, her cheerful mood forgotten. She couldn’t bear to watch them. Or hear them.

Off she went down the hall, needing air. Her chest tightened as she darted out the nearest exit and ran to the gardens. Hand over her chest, she gulped in the air while trying not to think about what she had just witnessed.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He’s a duke. He can do as he likes. He is a rake. You knew this from the start, Joanna. You knew this!

And yet she couldn’t bear thinking about it. She felt hot and cold all at once. She shuddered, feeling odd in her own skin. Why was she so upset about this? Theirs was only a marriage of convenience––they both knew this.

Still, it hurt.

Joanna managed to slow her breathing. She closed her eyes, feeling the breeze. It was a beautiful day. A few puffy clouds in the sky and a gentle wind that teased her curls. Perhaps she would stay outside, after all.

Still craving a distraction, she walked before finding just the thing—the stables. The stablemaster brought out the horses and phaeton with practiced grace. It only took a moment until she was being helped into her seat.

This is madness.

Grasping the reins, she stared at them blankly, hardly knowing what to do with them. A single lesson with Eleanor was not enough to get her anywhere. But when she cast a dubious look at the house––blanching at the thought of her stepmother and stepsister still inside, along with her husband, whom she had caught flirting with a maid––she knew there was no turning back.

“Your Grace? I’ll ready a rider for you. Perhaps you’d like a driver as well?”

“No, thank you. I should be quite fine,” Joanna managed to say with more ease than she felt.

The stablemaster furrowed his brow. “Your Grace, I don’t know if––”

Tired of being told what was right, what to do, who she should be, and what her limits were, Joanna decided she was done. No more.

She pulled back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and tugged on the reins.

Right now, no one is going to tell me anything!