Contrary to her wont of taking a tray in her chambers, she had been commanded to join her husband in the breakfast parlour that morning due to their impending travels. Watching him eat then reminded Elizabeth of the prize pig at Mr. Bennet’s estate devouring everything it could find. Like the man sitting opposite her, it too could eat no matter how much food it had eaten before.
When the Duke had his fill, there were still many sandwiches on the platter. “Rather than allow the remaining sandwiches and the rest of the drinks to go to waste, can we not provide it to our servants who are accompanying us to your estate?” Elizabeth suggested.
“Do what you will with them, I care not,” Hertfordshire responded dismissively.
“Mr. Wickham, please take for yourself, allow Jennings some, and then offer the rest to those of our servants who would like to eat and drink,” Elizabeth instructed.
In the time he had worked for the Duke, not once had the man bothered about anyone’s needs but his own. Wickham was amazed that this slip of a duchess had. He was sure she must hate him for being used to watch her by her husband, but yet, she still took his needs, and those of others into account.
The man did pay well, but that was all. Not for the first time it struck Wickham how easily he would be discarded, or disposed of, when the Duke decided he was no longer of use.
While His Grace went to the necessary, Wickham collected two footmen who, after he offered Her Grace’s maid some, took the remaining food and drink to share among the servants waiting with the coaches outside. When he saw the shocked looks of the grateful, and hungry men, Wickham gave credit where credit was due naming the Duchess as their benefactor.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
From the inn, rather than follow the road to the northwest which would have led to Meryton, the conveyances turned onto a road heading southwest.
This time Elizabeth feigned sleep to escape having to converse with her husband. If he suspected her of not truly beingasleep, Hertfordshire did not attempt to rouse his wife as they rode on.
About an hour later, they were traversing a market town. Elizabeth sat up and looked out of the window.
“This is the market town of Chesham in Buckinghamshire. It is the closest town in this county to Falconwood,” Hertfordshire explained without being prompted. He was proud of his primary estate and liked to talk about it and the area. He required no response from his wife. “We travel this way because although my estate sits both in this shire and Hertfordshire, the main entrance is in Buckinghamshire, three miles from where we sit now.”
“Thank you,” was all Elizabeth said in response.
As they rolled on towards the estate, Elizabeth could make out some hills in the distance, she guessed to the east, between them and London, but the land in the area was relatively flat, much like that around Longbourn where her beloved Oakham Mount stood out as the only eminence for miles around.
Eventually, the lead coach passed the large stone gate posts, each with a tall wrought iron gate attached. The gates were opened as far as they could be and the gatekeeper was present, next to his gatehouse, hat in hand, and bowing deeply as the Duke’s equipage passed him by.
The drive was relatively level and someone had planted trees alongside it on both sides at some point creating an avenue. About a mile from the gates, much to her delight—although she kept her features schooled not wantinghimto see her take pleasure in anything of his—Elizabeth saw a rather large, wooded area on the one side of the drive.
‘If I am allowed to ramble, I would like to explore the forest,’ Elizabeth told herself silently.
Almost two more miles were traversed before the mansion came into view. Never had Elizabeth seen a house half as big. Never mind Longbourn, it was five to six times larger than Netherfield Park’s manor house if it was anything.
It was at least five storeys high from what she could see with large wings on the left and right of the front part of the structure. When she explored the area, she intended to find out if the wings extended to the rear as well, or only towards the front.
The coach followed the circular drive in front of the house—there was a large fountain with water spurting from the mouths of five cherubs in the centre of the circle—and came to a halt under an enormous portico.
On either side of the drive were formal gardens. They seemed vast. Elizabeth could see at least three gazebos, a topiary, and what seemed like an extensive rose garden. She was sure there was much more to see as the gardens disappeared from view behind the wings on either side of the house.
She was sure she would see the rest soon enough, besides, she much preferred untamed nature to a garden designed by the awkward tastes of man.
Lined up in front of the house were four neat rows of servants behind two men and a woman, who Elizabeth assumed were the senior staff.
As much as she did not want to be helped down from the carriage by the man who repulsed her, Elizabeth knew in front of the staff and servants, she would have to maintain a façade of serenity. Thankfully, living her life with Jane had taught her how to apply that particular mask.
After handing her out, the Duke turned to those standing to welcome them home. “I present Her Grace, Lady Elizabeth Chamberlain, the Duchess of Hertfordshire and Marchioness of Hertford Heights,” the Duke intoned.
A cheer rose from the assembled staff and servants. To Elizabeth’s mind, it was not spontaneous, but what they thought the Duke wanted to hear.
Rather than lower himself to make the introductions, Hertfordshire nodded to Wickham who introduced Her Grace to Mr. and Mrs. Greaves, the butler and housekeeper, and to Mr. Hampstead, the steward.
“Your warm welcome of my husband and me is most appreciated,” Elizabeth told the assembled servants while her husband had begun to walk into the house. “Please pardon me if it takes me time, but I will endeavour to learn all of your names.”
Having been inured to the treatment from His Grace, there was a look of scepticism among the servants.
Elizabeth nodded to the housekeeper and butler who dismissed the servants. She took a deep breath and made her way into her new gaol. Yes, it was far larger than the house in London, but it was her prison nonetheless.
