The Duchess

Part Three, Chapter Nineteen: Look who's Back (part 1)

  As if to replace Peter for the upcoming rest of Seren’s life, Blackfall returned the following day. Seren greeted him with all the civility and wariness she could muster, though he did not  seem to care, or even realise that something was amiss. She reminded herself to not cause a scene in front of all the servants. 

  That was the last time she spoke to him for the rest of the week. She would not attempt to have dinner with him, or persuade him to go for a night stroll with her, for it would be pointless. She continued spending her days alone, like she always had. As for her nights—four nights of the week passed with her being alone by the duck pond before Peter eventually appeared. 

  He approached her this time. 

~

  Peter greeted the duchess as usual and took a seat at the other end of the bench. His heart quickened. What was this? A midnight rendezvous? When the duke had already returned?

  “I hope you are feeling better,” she said. 

  His reply came awkwardly, “I am, thank you for asking.” 

  She said nothing else to fill the silence. 

  However, her words had stirred something within him, a part of him that was dying to jump out. Again, his heart quickened. He thought he might as well get the words out now lest he lose the chance forever; he was going to leave anyway.

  “I confess,” he started, “but after mourning her, I no longer feel a great sense of loss. I do miss her presence around our home, but I don’t miss her.”

  “Is that not a good thing? Some people simply grieve shorter than others. There’s no point remaining in the state of mourning for years if you don’t feel the need to.”

  He sighed. She did not understand. However, as if she had heard his thoughts, she asked him for an explanation. 

  Now he was truly shocked. Thankfully, he still came prepared with an answer, and finally let go. “I did not love my sister.”

  And relief flooded him. 

  He had not loved his sister and doubted he ever would, even if she had survived. At best, her illness had only filled him with pity; at worst, it had worsened his perception of her. But this was only an unkind and irrational thought brought on from the stress that the illness had brought, he concluded, and he explained all of this to the duchess without any embellishments of sorts. 

  Again, he was shocked by her lack of surprise. 

  “You are not outraged, Your Grace? You are not scandalised?” 

  “Feelings cannot be helped.”

  A mystery laid behind those plain words. “You have felt the same?” He said quietly, unsure if that was a proper question to ask. Unsure if he should even be speaking with her now. Actually, he was sure that that was wholly improper, and that he should remain at least an arm’s length away from her, but he was dying to know her answer. 

  “I—“ She sighed, almost unsure as him. “I do not love my birth family and I do not love the duke.” 

  He could not stop the following words from coming out, “did you love your first husband?”

  For once, she was surprised. “You know of my first husband?”

  Sheepishly, he said, “servants’ gossip.”

  Thankfully, she laughed at that instead of ordering his execution. “I did, but it was not in a romantic kind of way. It was never a romantic love, but I think we were very good friends, and that was enough.”

  They fell back into silence afterwards. Something seemed to be occupying her thoughts, but before he could investigate and make a silent hypothesis, she pointed to the sky.

  Together, they watched the first snow of the month fall. 

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