Page 11 of The Beast’s Unwanted Duchess (Icy Dukes #1)

CHAPTER SIX

" W hat do you mean you’re leaving?" Alice asked Emma. "You were supposed to stay the entire weekend."

"Well, your husband scares the living daylights out of us, so we are going home, my dear Alice," Emma said. "We’ll write letters."

Alice’s heart sank a little at the news.

"So soon?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. "We didn’t really get to talk as much as I wanted. I didn’t get to show you my new bathroom as well. You’d love it, Emma.

Truly. Lavinia, you could read books in there while taking a bath. "

It still felt so surreal. Alice couldn’t bring herself to believe that Victor was present and now under the same roof.

She had not even realized that they had unresolved tension until their conversation the afternoon before.

Alice wasn’t sure where the anger came from, but she was glad it came when it did.

She had every right to be angry. She had built a life of relative peace at Ravenmoor, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes of the ton , and now it felt as if he had stormed in to dismantle everything she had carefully constructed.

Even the project she had been so excited to do felt insurmountable.

It was almost as if Victor’s presence had changed the rhythm of the estate.

With him back, everything felt different, tainted by his arrival.

Alice found herself constantly looking over her shoulders throughout the day, wondering if he would appear and demand that they go out or be seen together in public.

Being seen with him was the last thing she wanted, as ridiculous as it sounded. Although she was the Duchess of Ravenmoor, she wanted nothing to do with the Duke of Ravenmoor. But he was right about one thing.

They needed to fix their reputation.

Just as they spoke, Agatha joined them, standing only a few feet away. "Your Grace," she said, dipping into a quick curtsy. "The carriage is ready for Lady Lavinia and Lady Emma."

Emma took Alice’s hand. "You’ll be all right, Alice. We’ll write, and it won’t be long before we visit again."

Lavinia nodded. "And remember, it’s your estate too. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. Even the owner of the estate."

Alice forced a smile, though the knot in her stomach remained.

She walked with her friends to the front, watching as Agatha helped them gather their things with some of the other maids.

Alice waved them goodbye as the carriage rolled away.

She wasn’t all too sad. If Victor went forward with his plan, then she’d be seeing them for the rest of the season.

"Where is Roberts?" Alice asked Agatha as she turned to enter the foyer. "He wasn’t at the orangery overseeing the workers. That was his responsibility. Now, he isn’t here as well, helping with the bags."

"He is with the Duke, Your Grace," Agatha answered. "He will be assisting His Grace henceforth. They are rearranging the study and he is helping."

"Assisting?" Alice asked and paused. "That’s not right. He is supposed to oversee the construction of the orangery. Roberts and I planned it together. I cannot be overseeing the workers myself, can I?"

"No, Your Grace," Agatha answered. "Perhaps, we could assign someone else to oversee it?"

"No. It has to be Roberts. He knows more than anyone else," she argued.

With that, Alice turned on her heel and marched down the corridor. The orangery was an important project, and it was already in motion before Victor arrived. She couldn’t let him disrupt the flow of things.

As she approached the study, the door was slightly ajar. She could hear the soft murmur of voices inside. Pushing the door open, she found Victor standing by his desk, with Roberts by his side, sorting through large books.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," she said and curtsied. "I trust you slept well?"

"Do you actually care?" he asked without sparing her a glance.

Alice inhaled sharply, reminding herself that even though she could not stand the man, she still needed to show respect so there was peace.

"I need Roberts at the orangery. He was supposed to be overseeing the workers, ensuring that everything is done to my specifications. He knows my specifications, some of which I have forgotten. He needs to be downstairs."

Victor glanced up from the desk, his expression calm but, as usual, cold. "Roberts is helping me," he replied, gesturing toward Roberts. "I need my study back to how it was since you took it upon yourself to change everything."

"You said I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted," she answered. "The study looked horrible. I fixed it."

"I think you need to revisit your definition of fixed," Victor said. "Anyway, Roberts is busy. Assign someone else."

"I cannot do that, Your Grace," she said. "Like I said, Roberts knows the task better than anyone else. Better than me, even."

"This is my estate, Alice," Victor said to her. "Roberts is my butler. He has worked with me for years. Before you ever set foot in the estate. If I say I need him for a task, he is to do what I say. You don’t give him orders. I do."

Alice’s eyes narrowed. "And what of the renovations? The workers need supervision. This orangery is an important project."

"That’s your doing," he said. "It is important to you, not to the estate. Now, find someone else because Roberts will be busy by my side for the rest of the season. Like I said, you will not be giving orders to him while I have need of him."

Alice stiffened, her hands clenching at her sides. "I am not trying to interfere, but you cannot ignore the fact that the orangery needs attention?—"

"I need Roberts here, and that’s final," he said, lowering his head.

Alice stood there, her breath quickening with anger. She wanted to argue, but she could see that Victor wasn’t going to budge. So, without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room, hoping that some fresh air would assuage the burning sensation in her head.

"Agatha... where is Alice?" Victor asked as he circled his fork on the plate in front of him, the untouched meal growing cold. His patience was wearing thin.

Agatha, standing a few feet away, shifted slightly, her hands clasped in front of her. "The...the Duchess is in the garden, Your Grace," Agatha stuttered. "She’s overseeing the workers herself."

Victor’s grip on the fork tightened, and he set it down with a sharp clatter.

"Overseeing the workers herself?" he whispered. "Did you not inform her that we were to sit for lunch together?"

"I did, Your Grace," she answered.

"And what did she say in response?"

"She said she’d rather not, Your Grace," Agatha answered, staring at the ground.

"Just how important is that orangery she’s building?

" he asked. "Is it that much of a distraction? Because I could halt the construction if it’ll help her concentrate on our tainted reputation in society. How hard is it for her to sit for a meal? She did not have breakfast this morning, and now she’s skipping lunch? "

"Your Grace—" Roberts tried to chime in.

"Who does she usually eat with?" Victor asked Roberts, interrupting him. "For the past two years. I know I heard rumors that she entertained some....guests while I was gone. Is there any truth to it?"

"Not at all, Your Grace," Roberts answered. "She ate alone. Sometimes, once a day. Sometimes, not at all."

Victor turned to him in disbelief, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

Roberts gave a calm nod. "The Duchess has taken to keeping to herself, Your Grace. At times, she would forgo meals entirely."

Victor slammed his fist on the table, making the silverware – and the staff – clatter. "And you let this happen? You never thought to inform me?" His voice rose with each word, sharp with anger. "No wonder these rumors are flying around. She’s starving herself, and you kept that from me?"

"My apologies, Your Grace," Roberts responded, bowing his head. "I didn’t wish to overstep."

"Overstep?" Victor shot back. "I put you in charge of the household for a reason. Because more than anyone else in this room, I have some trust in you. This is the first time in my entire life that I have been bothered this much about what those jobless lots have to say about my household. It’s concerning to me that I’m only now learning about this. "

Victor turned to Agatha, his frustration now directed at her. "And you, what do you do in this household as the housekeeper if the Duchess is the one changing the tapestries, overseeing the staff, and handling everything else?"

Agatha swallowed, clasping her hands in front of her. "Your Grace, the Duchess insists on managing many of the household matters herself. I assist where I can, but?—"

"Enough." Victor interrupted, his tone sharp.

"Things will change from now on," he stated firmly, locking eyes with each of them in turn.

"Agatha, you will assist the Duchess in every way possible. I want you by her side, guiding her through her responsibilities. If it comes to it, I expect you to feed her yourself if that’s what it takes. "

Agatha blinked in surprise but nodded. "Of course, Your Grace. I will do as you say."

"And you, Roberts," Victor continued, turning his attention to him. "You are responsible for ensuring that no more scandalous behavior occurs under this roof. The whispers and rumors must stop. I will not have our reputation tarnished any longer."

Roberts stiffened. "Yes, Your Grace. I will keep a closer watch."

Victor’s expression softened slightly. "Alice may have the freedom to make her own choices as the duchess, but she is still my wife."

"My deepest apologies, Your Grace," Agatha added.

Pushing back his chair with a scrape, Victor stood abruptly and made his way out of the dining room.

When he finally reached the garden, he spotted Alice at a distance, standing near the hedge maze with her back to him.

She was speaking to the workers in a loud voice with the hem of her gown all muddied.