Page 7 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 7

J oanna had to be certain of what Nicholas meant.

She’d never been a wife before, and Beatrice’s explanation of what to expect in the marriage bed was one of the many reasons she had hardly slept last night.

Maybe that is all he wants. I think I heard stories about a mistress once. Most husbands have one. But I cannot imagine he would never… That is, he has rights. And a marriage is considered completed once a husband and wife lie together.

Heat crept up her cheeks at the thought. It had sounded awfully uncomfortable, with her stepmother being particularly nasty about the whole thing. But after dancing with Nicholas, after seeing those warm golden eyes roaming over her, Joanna couldn’t help but wonder if this was another matter that her stepmother was wrong about.

Though she told herself she didn’t care about Nicholas, she hadn’t given having children much thought. A lord needed heirs. Especially a duke. And, as she had discovered in the last moment, she rather liked the thought of having children of her own.

Joanna swallowed a gasp when he stepped closer. The distance between them shrank. She could hardly think of him as her husband. They’d hardly said a word to each other all day.

Until that dance. And then he had been warm and gentle and kind. It had been so unexpected. Joanna had been able to enjoy herself just a little bit, with him there at her side. She could forget her family’s ire and pretend that all would be just fine.

Except now, Nicholas was confusing her. Especially now as he lifted his hand. She couldn’t suppress a gasp when his fingers brushed against the side of her neck. The touch was so soft, so gentle, that it sent a shiver down her spine, and she struggled to keep breathing.

Nicholas leaned forward, and her heart seemed to stop. When he next spoke, his voice was low and teasing. “Oh, Joanna. What a tempting treat you are.”

A heady sensation washed over her. She had to close her eyes and try not to swoon. She’d never felt this way before. Every part of her soul wanted to reach out to him, to pull him closer so that nothing separated them, not even the air in her lungs––

But then he withdrew his hand.

Her eyes flew open. He was putting distance between them before she could process what had happened. An awkward silence fell over them before he steered their conversation back to business.

“You have your own room. Mine is at the other end of the hall. You’ll be close to Eleanor, should you need anything. A study was also prepared for you, as the lady of the house. The staff will tell you more about your obligations. It’s best that we focus on our roles at this point. Good day.”

And then Nicholas left.

Hardly able to believe his swift departure, Joanna watched as he exchanged coats with the butler––presumably, the man had known about this, since he already had the day coat in hand––and left. He didn’t look back at her once before the door closed.

“How silly,” she mumbled under his breath. “Why should I think that he will grow to like me or care for me enough to stay?”

Joanna turned shakily to the butler, who remained nearby.

“Good day, Your Grace.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to your new home.”

Right, she had met him before. He had admitted her into the house when he realized that her stubbornness would grant her access one way or another. That could have only been three days ago. A lifetime.

She flushed, remembering her manners, and prayed that he did not think unkindly of her.

“Thank you. I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch your name…?”

He folded his portly figure in a bow. Around her height but twice as wide, with graying sideburns, the butler had to be her father’s age.

“The name is Wordlesby, My Lady,” he said with twinkling eyes.

“Thank you. Please, you may call me Lady Joanna. Are you… are you the head butler, then?” she asked awkwardly.

“Correct. There is no underbutler at this time,” he explained helpfully while brushing the finely tailored coat Nicholas had left behind. “We have a small household at the moment. Eleven servants right now—myself, the housekeeper, two footmen, a valet and lady’s maid, one scullery maid, one cook, three chambermaids, and a stable master.”

She let the knowledge sink in slowly before she frowned and glanced around. “That cannot be right. It’s a very large house. Surely there should be twice as many servants… isn’t that right?”

Thinking of her father’s house, they had at least three times as many servants. And that house was smaller. The effort it must require here…

A feminine voice rang out as a tall woman appeared from down the hall. “That’s right, Your Grace.”

Judging by the jingling keys at her waist and the no-nonsense air about her, she was the housekeeper.

“As the lady of the house, you are more than welcome to hire any additional help,” she added with a pointed look.

Joanna considered what she was really saying. “You would not object to bringing on a few more hands?”

The housekeeper and butler shared a look before turning back to her. She felt a little intimidated even as they spoke kindly.

Wordlesby said, “I might suggest two or three more stable hands, plus two more maids and four more footmen.”

“And an underbutler,” the housekeeper added helpfully.

“Oh, that’s…” Joanna wondered if she would have to be the one to hire them. She had never conducted a job interview before. She fiddled with the gloves she was reluctant to take off. “I believe that is a fine number. Would that be all?”

“Perhaps another scullery maid? Two, rather. That would almost make a full staff,” Wordlesby suggested.

Not sure what to say, Joanna slowly nodded. It was still a small number, but that would surely help. She wanted to better understand this house before she made a final call about the number of servants. But at the very least, she knew that much. This house had to be in disrepair with a skeleton staff here.

She had told Nicholas that she was up to the task of running a household, and she still had not changed her mind. She simply hadn’t expected so much. It would take much more time and effort than she could imagine.

How much work is this going to be?

Tsking, the housekeeper shook her head. “That’s quite a responsibility to tackle right after one’s wedding. I should hate to make you ill with the effort, Your Grace. Might I assist you with anything else?”

Joanna grasped at the lifeline. “Yes, please. I mean, I would very much appreciate your assistance. Both of you, perhaps. Please hire whomever you think would be best for these roles, and I look forward to adding them to the staff.”

That made the stern-looking housekeeper brighten. It made her appear at least five years younger, which revealed the strain she had been under.

“Your Grace, please pardon our manners. This is Mrs. Knacking, the housekeeper at Whitmore Manor. Mrs. Knacking, I present you the new Duchess of Henley, Lady Joanna Whitmore.”

Joanna flushed at the kindness. “Please, feel free to call me Lady Joanna. It is a pleasure to meet you both. I look forward to working with the two of you.”

Bowing, Wordlesby murmured, “An absolute pleasure to have you here, Your Grace. Please excuse me, I have to go back to my duties.”

Mrs. Knocking stepped up. “I believe I owe you a tour of this grand house you may now call your own. Please, come with me. I’d love to know if you have any recommendations or requests to make this space your own. His Grace has reassured us that you may have free rein over most of the house should anything catch your attention.”

Away they went, moving through the hall and exploring the parlor. Mrs. Knocking was very knowledgeable about the history of the house and the family, sharing details about the furniture and space while explaining particulars about the rooms.

Joanna listened. Or at least, she tried.

The house was almost twice the size of Crampton Manor, but it grew more manageable to comprehend as she viewed the spacious servants’ quarters, the large kitchen, and the several rooms that had since been closed up.

She counted at least ten rooms that had been shuttered, including a ballroom, two parlors, and a second drawing room.

It was strange to consider all of this her home now. She tried to soak in the knowledge but struggled. Everything felt so strange. Her stomach churned everywhere they went. Worst of all, her thoughts kept turning back to Nicholas.

He hardly said goodbye before disappearing. It felt like I was merely a task to check off. Where could he have gone at this hour? His club? His mistress?

She felt a bitter pang in her chest. She breathed in deeply, putting a hand on her stomach. It would be very easy to feel alone in such a big house.

But Beatrice isn’t here.

Joanna managed to let out a deep breath at that thought. This was a strange new place, but it didn’t mean she had to be miserable. She was finally free from her overbearing stepmother, so she still considered this a blessing. No one would control her now—Nicholas had promised her that.

Ignoring the hurt, Joanna followed Mrs. Knacking with more fervor as they moved to the servants’ stairs at the back of the house. She clung to a small glimmer of hope, noting that she could build a life here. She could start over. There were countless opportunities here, especially with all of these empty rooms.

Mrs. Knacking had explained that they had been open the last time the entire family was here—which was a year ago—while hinting at her hope that the new lady of the house would host someday. That was when Joanna realized that the servants enjoyed their roles but hoped for more. The family had been quiet for nearly a year after the former Duke and his eldest son had passed away.

Questions bounced around in her mind. By the time Mrs. Knacking brought her to her new quarters, she decided to ask.

“His Grace’s old bedchamber is right over there. The last door on the left,” the housekeeper explained. “The master suite is to your right, but it is closed at the moment. The connecting door is locked, Your Grace. I shall leave you here to rest. Your maid––”

“Wait,” Joanna blurted out when the woman put a hand on the door handle. “Please, can you… Can you tell me more about the family?”

The smile on Mrs. Knacking’s face faltered at the question. “Your Grace?”

“His father passed, but I don’t recall anything else,” Joanna explained quietly, her anxiety mounting. “I never read the paper, and I didn’t ask… But could you tell me?”

Looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, the housekeeper reluctantly shook her head. “I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace, but I fear it is not my place to say. Nor my story. You should speak with His Grace, I think.”

But His Grace doesn’t care.

Joanna bit her tongue and forced a smile instead, nodding. “You’re right, of course.”

It was clear she wouldn’t learn anything here. So, she thanked the housekeeper and walked into her new bedchamber.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she drew to a halt as she glimpsed around her. Although she knew she should expect something bigger than the bedroom where she had spent much of her life, she still had not anticipated a space three times its size.

First, there was an antechamber painted in robin’s-egg blue. A floor-to-ceiling window took up almost the entirety of the far wall. A side table and chairs stood beside the locked door, and large cushions and a soft rug occupied the opposite corner.

A large archway, framed in gold, led into the next space. Her new bedroom.

Joanna glimpsed the chandelier overhead before walking in. There were three more doors that led to other rooms, but she paid them little mind as she admired the chest at the foot of a grand canopied bed and a dressing table and stool to her left. To the right were three more windows, large but not as big as the one in the antechamber. The curtains were a beautiful sight of blue and gold. A writing desk was set up between two of the windows, and a chess set had been laid out there, though she couldn’t imagine whom she might play with.

“Your Grace?”

In came her maid, Aileen McPhale, a silent Irish girl who had never been trained in anything beyond sewing.

When the Earl had learned that Joanna’s maid had been handed over to Madeline, he’d insisted that another be hired for Joanna. Beatrice had brought home Aileen, and though it had been three years, Joanna still knew nothing about her.

She found herself smiling, comforted by the familiar face. “Good afternoon, Aileen. Have you settled into your new quarters well?” She only received a nod. “And everything is all right with you?”

“Aye, since this morning.”

Joanna waited for her to say more, but the maid remained silent. She sighed in disappointment before accepting that this was all she was going to get.

Feeling rather tired, Joanna allowed her maid to help her change into a simpler day dress that she could manage on her own and then dismissed her for the day.

She meant to make time for supper, but instead, she spent hours exploring every inch of her new bedchambers until she was squinting to see. A scullery maid brought up her supper. No one else had gone down to eat either, so the dining table had not been set up.

“I suppose it is for the best,” she muttered and then thanked the maid.

She nibbled on her food before finally undressing for the night. Tired as she was, she retired early and waited for the next day to arrive without knowing what might happen in her new home.

The next morning, Joanna decidedly dressed and made her way down to the breakfast room. There was a new life to begin.

If I start hiding away now, then everyone will know how afraid I am. And I cannot let that stop me. I must be bold now.

“Oh!” she exclaimed when she found a brunette, but with a much richer shade of hair, at the table. “My––I mean, good morning.”

Eleanor whirled around and gasped around the scone in her mouth. She hastily took it out and brushed the crumbs from her cheeks. “Oh bother. I’m sorry.” She struggled to rise from her chair. “My Lady—Your Grace. Good morning! I didn’t know if I should?—”

“No, please, sit down––”

“What if I––”

“All right.” Joanna cleared her throat, realizing that the two of them were only going to keep apologizing and speaking over one another.

As the surprise wore off, she found herself anxious but eager to have some time alone with her new sister-in-law.

They had a brief conversation yesterday after the proper introductions were made. But everything had been a blur to her. She hardly recalled anyone’s names and doubted she could broach any topic that had been discussed.

We’ll just have to start over, that’s all.

Eleanor was only a few years younger than Joanna, but she was frightfully shy, with a childlike charm that made her seem very youthful. She flushed prettily and had the loveliest shade of dark green eyes.

“Please, allow me.” Joanna inhaled and walked forward, before bobbing a slight curtsy. Eleanor looked on in surprise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Eleanor. Please call me Joanna. Or sister, if you dare.”

Eleanor furrowed her brow before realizing it was a jest. Her face softened slightly. “Joanna. Good morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. I’m very glad to have you here,” she returned after a moment. Her eyes darted around the room as she grew antsy, clearly uncomfortable hovering over her chair. “We could use more company in the house.”

“Do you mind?” Joanna asked, gesturing to the nearby side table. When Eleanor shook her head, she moved toward it to fill her plate. There were four plates there, with a few servings left over, making her wonder if this was how it usually looked. “I’m terribly hungry. I don’t believe I ate much yesterday. But the breakfast was delicious, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” Eleanor agreed enthusiastically. “I very much enjoyed the tarts. It’s rare to have fresh berries in this season, and I must have eaten platters of them by myself.”

Joanna glanced at her when she fell silent and noted the blush on her cheeks. She smiled encouragingly. “I do like a good tart myself. Do you recommend anything here?”

“The scones,” Eleanor replied promptly.

Joanna piled two beside her eggs and ham, added a few vegetables, and then went to sit across from Eleanor. Noticing her furrowed brow, she asked, “Is this all right?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

The two of them sat down and returned to their food. But if Eleanor had been enthusiastic about her meal earlier, she was scared of it now.

Joanna gave her two minutes of contemplation before speaking up.

“It’s such a large house. I wonder how one does not get lost in here,” she noted.

“Oh, it’s not so bad after a while. Our country house is much larger.” A dark look crossed Eleanor’s face, but she shook it away before continuing. “You can typically tell by the color which floor you are on and which room you are in. We have paler colors on the ground floor, and they grow darker on the way up. The west side of the house has more red and the east side has more blue.”

Joanna nodded slowly. “Goodness, that is clever. And what is your favorite room here?”

“It used to be the music room, but I’ve grown to like the gardens,” Eleanor replied. “We don’t have a gardener at the moment. It’s rather nice, getting my hands in the dirt and mud.”

Mrs. Knacking had mentioned something like that the previous day.

Making a mental note to hire a gardener soon, Joanna nodded. “Would you mind showing them to me? I am afraid I don’t know much about gardens, but I would love to see what you have been doing there.”

The conversation was slow and stilted in some areas––there was much Eleanor was not comfortable discussing––but Joanna was grateful for the young woman’s company and eager to improve their relationship.

Eleanor was as gentle as she was shy, and she was terribly courteous. She didn’t demand any attention and appeared equally glad to have company.

Soon, the two of them had found parasols for a long walk in the gardens behind the house. It was hard to believe that there could be so much natural color whilst in London. Joanna gazed around curiously as they stepped before the flowerbeds.

When she shifted her gaze back to her new sister-in-law, she could see the troubled look in her eyes again. There were devastating thoughts in her head—Joanna could sense it. She almost reached out to her.

“Eleanor?” she asked tentatively, remembering Mrs. Knacking’s refusal to answer her question.

Eleanor sniffled and looked at her. “Yes, Joanna?”

“I believe you and your brother need more time to mourn,” Joanna noted carefully. She had not mentioned the black crepe dress Eleanor wore. It hardly seemed comfortable, made of a scratchy fabric and thick in the late summer weather. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. It cannot be easy, losing your father.”

“And my brother Roger,” Eleanor added sadly.

“Yes, Roger. He was older, was he not?” Joanna prodded gently. There was little satisfaction in being right.

Eleanor nodded, sighing heavily.

“It must have been so terribly difficult for both of you. And to have a wedding sprung upon you… How are you coping?”

A weak smile curved Eleanor’s lips as her expression softened. Her eyelashes fluttered before she shook her head. “We are trying to adjust. The servants have been so helpful. I hardly ask them for anything because they all understand.”

“That is hardly an answer,” Joanna pointed out.

“It is hard. I don’t know what else to say, I’m sorry. I still expect to see my father at the dining table and my elder brother at luncheon or tea. One loss would certainly be difficult, but some days, it truly feels impossible. We’re all struggling to adjust in our own way. Especially Nicholas.”

Inhaling slowly, Joanna nodded. She studied Eleanor thoughtfully and debated asking a question. But staying silent encouraged her sister-in-law to keep speaking, so she clamped her mouth shut.

“He can be very charming. Nicholas was always the life of the party. Everyone adored him. But losing them changed everything. I know it must look like he has everything under control,” Eleanor choked out, “but I know that cannot be the case. He’s hurting too. But he won’t talk about it. He’s wearing a mask as if everything is fine and could be managed easily. But it was a burden Roger was already sharing with our father. They never thought Nicholas would have to do… all of this on his own.”

Joanna sensed her growing distress and took her hand in hers to offer her comfort. Her heart ached for Eleanor’s pain. And as for Nicholas, she tried to understand what he was facing.

“He has never been so reserved before,” Eleanor murmured fretfully. “Though he’s rarely shared the truth of his emotions with anyone, he always had such a happy spirit. I’ve never met anyone who lives in the moment as he does. Or did. I don’t know. I fear I don’t know him anymore.”

“That cannot be,” Joanna reasoned. “He is still your brother.”

Eleanor blinked as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Yes, I suppose he is. But now when he laughs, I see the pain behind his eyes. Oh, Joanna, I fear I never knew him at all. He avoids his feelings. They were never strong enough for us to worry about, but now there is only me, and I cannot stop worrying about him. He’s grown so serious. He still laughs with me and teases me, but sometimes it feels so forced.”

As the two of them commenced their walk around the gardens, Joanna listened carefully and tried to absorb everything she was learning about her husband.

It seemed Nicholas was so much more than she understood. And so terribly different. There was only so much of him that she had seen up until now—there was more to him than she knew what to do with.

Learning the truth about his personality frustrated her. The man always had his guard up around her. He wore that mask with more ease than she could imagine. A mask that she was learning he could take off.

Who is he beneath it all? Have I ever seen a glimpse of that man? I don’t know that I would recognize that part of Nicholas even if saw it.

There was confusion as well as comfort in learning about this, Joanna realized. She hoped that there was more to Nicholas than his brash manners and forceful attitude. He had told her once that he was still an honorable man. The doubt she had clung to slowly faded away the more she listened to Eleanor.

“Thank you,” she said when Eleanor had fallen quiet again. “I can’t imagine that any of this has been easy for you, but I am so grateful to learn about it. I would never have known any of this were it not for you.”

Sighing, Eleanor squeezed her hand before pulling back and ducking her head shyly. “ I should be thanking you. I had no one to talk to about this for so long.”

“Then it is good I am here. You may talk my ear off whenever you like,” Joanna promised her.

That made Eleanor chuckle, before she sighed again. “Thank you. It must have been a lot to learn, especially since you did not have a traditional courtship. I don’t know what Nicholas has been like with you, but… Well, you are his wife now. You should know these things about him.”

Joanna nodded in agreement. She had so many things to ponder. She could see Eleanor glancing frequently back to her project wall, so she let her go.

And thus she was left to her own devices.

Returning to the house, she wandered the ground floor. As she walked through the halls, she replayed everything that Eleanor had shared with her during their walk.

Her husband had indeed been through a lot. To lose so many people in his life was something she couldn’t fathom. It took little to imagine why he was the way he was.

But it doesn’t mean Nicholas will always be that way. What if he wants to change? He can tease me and dance with me. He can give me his name and a place under his roof. If he can be that generous and considerate, can he be more than that?

Joanna pondered this and wondered if she wanted that as well.