As the morning drew to a close and the reality of their changed circumstances settled around them like a shroud, Lucian found himself contemplating what manner of existencethey would endure together within the confines of their practical arrangement. She was his wife now, bound to him by law and sacred vow, yet she remained as distant and unknowable as she had been when she first arrived at his door with nothing but her father's debt and her own desperation to recommend her.
He would provide her with whatever comforts his wealth could procure, treat her with the cold courtesy due to her position, and harbor no illusions that their union would ever be anything more than a mutually beneficial transaction. To expect otherwise would be folly, for hope was a weakness that scarred, and bitter men had long since learned to abandon.
The Duchess of Ravenshollow sat beside him in her borrowed finery and ancient pearls, beautiful and forever beyond his reach, and Lucian accepted with grim resignation the certainty of spending his life shackled to a woman who would never offer him more than dutiful tolerance—a fitting punishment, perhaps, for a man who had lost the right to expect love or happiness years ago.
Chapter Six
The morning after her wedding dawned grey and damp, with the sort of persistent drizzle that seemed to seep into one's very bones and emphasize the bleakness of the Yorkshire landscape. Evangeline woke in the Duchess's chambers—a vast suite of rooms that had been aired and refreshed but still carried the faint mustiness of long disuse—feeling like an intruder in someone else's life.
The chambers themselves were magnificent, decorated in shades of blue and gold that must have been the height of fashion during the previous Duchess's tenure, yet every surface spoke of careful preservation rather than active occupation. The furniture was exquisite but covered in protective cloths until the previous day, the windows dressed in curtains that had been closed against the light for years, the very air heavy with the weight of memories that belonged to another woman entirely.
Mary appeared with her usual punctuality, bearing hot water and the efficient manner that characterized all the Ravenshollow servants, though the maid's nervous energy suggested she was still adjusting to the presence of a new mistress in the household.
"His Grace requests your presence in the estate office at nine o'clock, Your Grace," Mary informed her as she helped Evangeline into a practical morning dress of dark green wool. "He wishes to acquaint you with the property's current circumstances."
The formal phrasing suggested that Lucian intended to treat their first morning as married partners with the same businesslike efficiency that had marked their courtship and wedding ceremony. Evangeline found herself oddly relieved by this approach, as it postponed the awkward intimacies oflearning to share domestic space with a man who remained largely a stranger despite their legal bonds.
"Thank you, Mary. I trust His Grace slept well?" The polite inquiry was automatic, though she found herself genuinely curious about how her formidable husband conducted himself when not maintaining his carefully controlled public facade.
"I wouldn't know, Your Grace. His Grace keeps to his own chambers in the east wing, and we servants do not approach. That is to say, he values his privacy most particular."
The carefully neutral response revealed more than Mary perhaps intended about the household's dynamics and their master's isolation from normal domestic intercourse. Evangeline wondered if he took his meals alone, managed his correspondence without assistance, and generally conducted his life as though he were still a bachelor rather than a newly married man.
The estate office proved to be a businesslike chamber adjoining the library, its walls lined with maps, surveys, and ledgers that spoke of centuries of careful stewardship by previous generations of Hollowbridge dukes. Lucian stood behind a massive oak desk covered with papers, his dark hair tied back in a manner that minimized his scars while emphasizing the strong lines of his jaw and the intelligence that burned in his remarkable eyes.
"Good morning, Evangeline," he said with formal courtesy, gesturing toward a chair positioned across from his desk. "I trust you passed a comfortable night in your new quarters?"
"Good morning, Lucian. The chambers are quite lovely, thank you for asking." She settled herself with dignity, noting that he had arranged the furniture to maintain physical distance between them while conducting their business. "I understand you wish to acquaint me with the estate's affairs?"
"Indeed. If you are to fulfill your role as duchess effectively,you must understand the scope of the responsibilities we share." He indicated the papers spread before him with a gesture that suggested frustration rather than pride. "I fear you will find the current state of affairs rather challenging."
"In what manner challenging?"
"The estate has suffered from considerable neglect during my absence at war and subsequent withdrawal from active management. Tenant relations have deteriorated, agricultural improvements have been postponed indefinitely, and several properties require immediate attention to prevent further decay."
His admission of inadequacy was delivered with the sort of bitter self-incrimination that suggested he took his failures personally, though he seemed determined to present the facts without seeking sympathy or understanding. Evangeline studied the maps and ledgers he indicated, noting discrepancies between what should have been profitable holdings and the reality of declining revenues.
"The rainfall last autumn was particularly severe," Lucian continued, moving to stand beside a large survey map that dominated one wall. "Several tenant cottages suffered water damage that has not been repaired, and the winter crops failed due to poor drainage in the lower fields."
"And what measures have been taken to address these difficulties?"
"Very few, I am afraid. I have found it difficult to maintain focus on such matters since my return from the war."
The careful phrasing did not disguise the depth of his struggle with what she was beginning to recognize as a profound melancholy that affected every aspect of his life. Yet she sensed that direct sympathy would be unwelcome, so she focused instead on the practical aspects of their situation.
"Perhaps we might begin with a tour of the affectedproperties? I should like to see the conditions for myself before attempting to suggest remedies."
"If you wish. Though I warn you, the circumstances are rather more dire than these papers suggest."
***
They set out within the hour, mounted on horses from the Ravenshollow stables that had clearly once been among the finest in Yorkshire but now showed signs of the same neglect that plagued the rest of the estate. Evangeline's mare was well-trained and gentle, though she noted that several of the stalls stood empty and the remaining animals appeared to receive only basic care.
The ride through the estate revealed the full extent of the problems they faced with devastating clarity. Fields that should have been productive lay fallow or poorly maintained, their drainage ditches clogged with debris from the previous night's rain. Tenant cottages bore visible signs of disrepair—sagging roofs, broken windows, gardens gone to seed—while the roads themselves were rutted and treacherous from lack of proper maintenance.
"How many families depend upon the estate for their livelihoods?" Evangeline asked as they paused to survey a particularly neglected section of farmland.
"Nearly two hundred souls, directly or indirectly," Lucian replied, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility that seemed to burden him physically. "They have been patient with my inadequacies but patience has its limits."