"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.
Victor’s jaw clenched as he approached. "Alice!" he called out, his voice cutting through the air.
