Author’s Note: Another chapter of this AU, which I’m really enjoying writing! Now we start meeting other characters and getting hints about Ernest’s past … with a visit from our favorite old crotchety Duke and his bubbly little wife!
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Ella nestled in tighter against the cushions of the settee, perching her book upon her knee to rest in her line of sight. The mid-morning sun streamed in through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, casting a ray of light across the pale skin of her hand and yellowed pages of the novel. It was the second time this month she had read Defoe’s tale of Robinson Crusoe, yet her mind was enraptured by Crusoe’s struggle for survival yet again.
Life at Ledford Park has settled into a comfortable routine since the wedding. Each morning Ella would rise with the sun, taking her tea and breaking her fast in the master chambers as she gazed out over the immaculate landscaping. After she was dressed, if the weather permitted, she would escape outdoors to explore the gardens, sometimes alone and sometimes she would steal Briar away from her duties to keep her company. After a turn about the gardens, Lady Ella would retire to the library to pour over the latest book she had plucked from the shelves until the time for luncheon was called. Most often she had lunch by herself in the dining hall as Mr. Sinclaire was always either away on business during the day or would take lunch in his study. She would rarely see any trace of her husband until dinnertime when he would finally make his appearance and keep her company.
Although it had taken several weeks of prodding and persistence, Ernest had finally begun to converse freely with his wife during their nightly meals together. Of course he was rarely a man to show any emotion or favors, but Ella had come to look forward to their time together each evening and relished each glimpse of a smile from the forlorn man. Each smile was hard won, yet that moment of lightness was well worth the effort … one could almost forget Ernest’s sullen demeanor upon the sight of his warm smile or sound of his deep laughter. During their conversing, Ella had learned that her new husband was an avid explorer, yearning to stretch his legs and breathe in the open air outside at every given opportunity. Similar to Ella, he was also a proponent of reading in his spare time and had recommended some of his favorite books … most recently his treasured childhood favorite, Robinson Crusoe.
This particular morning Ella had savored the solitude of her walk and time in the library, resting her mind and conversation skills for the upcoming event. For after luncheon she was to accompany Ernest on their first public outing together as a married couple to the London society’s most prestigious countryside pastime, the races.
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Ella tugged again at the hat poised atop her coiffed updo, struggling to keep it upright as it slid downwards at every bouncing bump of the carriage on the road. She heard a chuckle across the seat from her, her eyes flicking up to find Ernest staring at her with amusement. She gave him a tepid smirk back. “Yes?” She questioned politely.
Ernest shook his head and looked back out the window, trying to suppress a grin. “Nothing … you just seem nervous, I suppose.”
Ella scoffed, straightening her hat once more and sitting upright, jutting her chin out proudly. “I most certainly am not nervous.” She replied bluntly, turning to look out at the countryside passing along outside. “Perhaps it is you who are nervous, my lord.” She quipped back playfully, continuing the witty banter the pair conversed in so frequently.
If Ella was completely honest, she both loved and despised this sardonic pattern of discourse that she and her husband had fallen into. For one she looked forward to hearing what clever inquiry or response he would throw at her each day, always challenging her and keeping her engaged in the dialogue. On the contrary, all the back and forth did not answer the questions that had plagued her since that dreary September evening. Where was this charade of a marriage headed, for certainly it had not yet led Ernest Sinclaire to her bed … and, more importantly, what was her husband hoping to gain from this most unusual union?
Upon arrival at the race track, Ernest escorted Ella in a languid stroll towards the stables, pointing out a robust chestnut steed from Edgewater near the front and a svelte speckled grey mare a few stalls down representing Ledford Park. Ella approached the towering Edgewater horse timidly, lifting her hand to stroke his nose gently. She glanced back over her shoulder to Ernest with a soft smile, admiring the warmth behind his eyes as they met her own. “How many horses will race in total?”
“Eight. Representing the various houses in the region.” He replied simply.
“Hmm …” Ella pondered, moving from the large brown steed to the smaller grey horse of her husband’s house and allowing it to smell the skin on her dainty hand. “Well, my husband … it seems that between the two of us our odds are fairly good, wouldn’t you say?” She stared into the horse’s dark eyes, suppressing the urge to glance back and gauge his reaction straight away.
A slight smirk swept the corners of his mouth upwards, his eyes dancing with amusement when she finally met his gaze again. “I quite agree, Lady Ella … it would appear the odds are in our favor.” He looked down at his boots and ran his fingers through his tumbling curls, fighting away the tinge of pink tickling his cheeks. Once he had composed himself he stood upright again, bending his arm towards her in invitation. “Shall we, Wife?”
The two arrived at their seats under the shade of the tent, the first ones to sit in the area. Ella perched herself upon the stiff-backed chair and surveyed the passers-by, occasionally greeting various acquaintances who stopped by. It had been so long since she had attended the races, and she had forgotten the excitement of the hustle and bustle prior to the starting gunshot as people chatted and searched for their seats. Her father used to love to take her to the races as a child after her mother had passed, she recalled fondly. Unfortunately their little adventures at the race track had ceased after Countess Henrietta had entered their lives …
“Why, if it isn’t my favorite cousin, Mr. Sinclaire!” A high-pitched voice rang from their left. The couple turned to find the exclaimer approaching slowly, a petite lady with golden curls twirled around her face waddling slowly and clutching her rounded abdomen under the fabric of her dress. She smiled jovially, and Ella felt herself immediately drawn to the beautiful young woman.
Ernest stood up to greet her coldly, stepping down to take her hand dutifully and place a quick peck to her gloved knuckles. “Felicity. What a surprise.” Ella watched her husband curiously, searching for any clue as to why he was greeting his own flesh and blood so formally. He turned back to Ella with a blank expression on his face, taking her hand and escorting her forward to present her properly. “May I present my wife, Lady Ella. Ella, this is my cousin Lady Felicity Holloway- er, I mean Duchess Felicity Richards.”
Felicity squealed and took Ella’s hand in her own, bouncing slightly with excitement. “Of course! I have so looked forward to meeting you, Ella. I was so disappointed to hear that you two had decided to hold such a small, private wedding ceremony. I do so love weddings, don’t you?!? But I suppose it is an awfully romantic theory to wed quietly, to not bother with the formalities of a wedding and just be unable to resist any longer. Ahhh!” She ended her rant with a wistful sigh, clutching her hands dramatically over her heart.
Ella stood stunned for a moment, mouth agape as she absorbed Felicity’s rambling diatribe. When she finally decided that the young woman seemed friendly enough, she plastered her most courteous smile on her lips before she replied. “What an honor to meet you, Felicity. I dare say my husband has told me little of his family thus far.”
“Well Felicity is a distant cousin, many generations back. Our paths had not crossed many times … until recently, that is.” Ernest grumbled, his former pleasant spirits quite obviously forgotten.
“I just think it’s so lovely when family can be reunited.” Ella interjected sweetly, trying to lighten the dismal mood her husband had cast upon the interaction. “How lucky you both are.”
“What is this about luck, I hear?” A gruff tone echoed from behind Felicity, finally presenting itself in the form of a middle-aged gentleman. “Felicity, I hope you have not been spreading any of that poppycock about good fortunes and luck before the races, my dear.” The man grasped her elbow firmly and tucked his own arm through it, standing tall with a solemn face while studying the couple opposite them.
“Oh no, my love …” Felicity chimed, nestling beside him warmly while continuing to rub her belly with her spare hand. “Ella, allow me to introduce my husband, Duke Tristan Richards of Karlington. And you remember Ernest, my dear … Ella and Ernest have just been married, you see.”
“Mmm hmm, so I had heard. Sinclaire …” Duke Richard muttered his acknowledgment, his brows furrowed as he eyed Ernest with contempt. His face brightened as he turned and his eyes fell upon Ella, leaning forward to give her a gracious bow of greeting. “Lady Ella, it is such a pleasure. I was happy to hear that Ernest here had finally decided to settle down, we were beginning to worry for him. And to such a beautiful young woman …” the duke gave her a wicked smile and a wink as he leaned forward to take her hand in his, placing a slow kiss to her hand with a lingering breath as if he were inhaling her essence.
“L-l-likewise …” Ella stammered, quite taken aback by this bold older man. Poor Felicity, she thought internally, saying a quick prayer that her own husband was at least pleasant to look upon despite his frequent moods.
The two pairs stood staring at each other for a moment until Ella broke the awkward silence. “So when are you expecting your little one, Felicity?”
Felicity’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh, we have a few more months until the baby arrives.” She beamed up at her towering husband, nudging him fondly in the side. “The duke here is quite certain it is a little boy, although I am hoping for a girl.”
“You’ve got to ensure the heir for the household, do you not Sinclaire? Tick tock, tick tock.” Duke Richards teased in a gravelly voice.
Ella felt herself blush at the Duke’s insinuation, dropping her eyes quickly to prevent him from reading the truth in her eyes. She glanced over at Ernest beside her, noticing his clenched fists and tight jaw … as if he were holding back the urge to spat in disgust. Just then the trumpet sounded from the racetrack, breaking the tension to alert the crowd of the impending start of the race.
“Ahh … well, we should go find our seats, dear husband. I do not want to miss the race!” Felicity trilled, tugging her husband’s arm and breaking the heated trance he was in.
“Yes quite …” the duke agreed in a monotone voice. He turned to Ella and nodded his warm farewell. “Lady Ella, it was an honor …” He then turned to Ernest and his stare ran cold. “Sinclaire … I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.”
Ella curtsied in response, passing a shy smile to Felicity as the couple walked away to find their places. When she turned around she found Ernest was already seated, glaring blankly out at the race track. She sat down beside him, resting a hand on his knee to get his attention. “Well that was a nice surprise! I do so wish you would tell me more of your family.” She began, attempting to start a pleasant conversation with her sullen husband.
Ernest continued his unswerving gaze, his face set and staring far off as if he were in another world entirely. Finally he glanced down at her hand upon his leg, gripping it gently and setting it on her own lap before placing his hands in his own. “Let us just watch the races, Ella. They’re about to begin.”
To be continued …