Page 64 of Her Wily Duke

Around her, the world moved on as normal, yet inside her, everything had changed.

“Please inform Lady Hazelworth that we will be there very shortly. Have the priest and the undertaker been sent for? Or should I arrange that now?”

“The Butler has sent to inform them Your Grace.”

“Good. Stay long enough to take a warming drink, and then be on your way back to Lady Hazelworth, if you would.”

The man bowed, and left the room.

Silence surrounded them, full of words unspoken, until, after a few moments, Ariana turned in her chair, and leant her head against Benedict’s side.

He held her there as she cried for a short while, then she pulled herself up, forcing herself to cease crying. Her mother needed help, so there was no time for Ariana to dissolve.

As they hurried upstairs to change, and to gather what might be needed, Ariana allowed herself to wonder, for the first time, if her mother would be grief filled, or relieved that her father was now gone from this life.

How would she, Ariana, feel if Benedict was gone?

The thought slipped through her mind, like a shard of ice, and she knew then just how much she was coming to care for the man she had married, despite everything.

Chapter Eleven

The day of the funeral dawned grey and icy cold, with a hard frost on the ground. In the churchyard, the stone angels bore trailing feathers of ice on their wings as Lord Hazelworth was laid to rest in the family crypt.

Ariana stood between Benedict and Lady Hazelworth, her fingers as numb as her heart felt. There were few mourners, so deep in winter, for none of Lord Hazelworth’s relatives had been able to travel the treacherous roads to be there, and few in the district felt enough kinship with him to display even false grief at such a time of year.

As the crypt door closed with a grating of stone and an echoing boom, the finality of it sank in. They turned away, with barely a nod to the Vicar as he hurried back into the comparative warmth of the church, and went to the carriage.

There seemed no use for words, and the snow which began to fall as they reached Hazelworth Hall confirmed it, blanketing the world in that oddly pure silence of white.

Once inside, and settled before the fire in the main parlour, Ariana began to feel warmer, at least a little more as if she lived, rather than as if she belonged with the frozen angels in the churchyard.

Benedict made certain that she was settled with Lady Hazelworth, sent for tea, and then left them there to go and speak with all of the staff, and to ascertain what might need to be done. For, although the formality of the reading of the Will still needed to happen, with Lord Hazelworth’s death, he was now master of Hazelworth Hall.

The tea arrived, and Ariana poured, handing a cup to her mother, who blinked, and accepted it, bringing her gaze back from where she had been staring into the fire, to meet her daughter’s eyes.

“You don’t have to be like me, daughter.”

The words were soft, yet shocking.

“What do you mean, Mother?”

“Obedient. You don’t have to just accept whatever your husband wants. When I was younger… I thought it the right thing to do, thought it better than what my mother did. Now… perhaps I was wrong, discipline can be good, but perhaps a softer connection… perhaps that can be good too. I have come to realise that not all softness is weakness. I might have liked to see what that was like…”

Ariana knelt before her mother, and wrapped her arms around the woman, who shivered as she sat, despite the roaring fire in the grate.

“You are not so old, Mother – many things might be possible now, and in the next few years…”

It seemed disloyal to say it, to imply that her father’s death had granted her mother a freedom long needed, but it was true.

Lady Hazelworth looked deep into Ariana’s eyes, and her voice dropped to a bare whisper.

“Perhaps… but I am not the one who matters. You are. I think that Darkmire is a far better man than your father realised. You have a chance – find that softer connection with the man you married – fight for a life of happiness, not just one of acceptance. To see you be happy with him… that will heal a great deal in my heart, Ariana.”

“Then if that is what you wish, I will try. In truth, I have already begun to try…”

***

Benedict found the estate management matters at Hazelworth Hall to be in good order – which was somewhat of a relief. He arranged a meeting with the gentleman who was now Lord Hazelworth, and his man of business, as well as the formal reading of the Will, so that all could be finalised as soon as possible. And so it was done, with little to debate, and a clear path for all.