Waiting For Him

The Duke wished for a simple conversation, an honest one, that was all.

Beth sat at the table, holding onto a book of poems she had brought with her, absentmindedly flipping through its pages. The burning candle illuminated a part of the room with a faint glow and the fireplace kept it warm. It was nice and comforting.

They were friends now – the Duke of Carlisle and her – as he had wished for long, still her heart was troubled. Two nights before, they had shared a series of honest truths between them and by note, he wished for another night of honest conversation which Beth was contemplating much about. Another honest conversation he had invited her out for, to the west balcony of the Castle.

Still in the dress she had worn at dinner, she sat staring into her book, unfocused. They had been missing from the dinner table, the Duke, the King and all who had attended on their first night at the Castle. Although she was glad to have Cossington absent and unseen, still she wondered about the Duke. What matters of state could have them completely shut away from other people for days? Was the Kingdom not safe? Was there an impending danger?

By nature, the Duke was a quiet, brooding man who had not hesitated to claim her friendship however she fought. His tendency to evade questions, and pry deep into matters that were not of his concern, made Beth unsettled. He would somehow get the other person to pour out their truth, while all he would give of his were his exhalation. But Beth had to admit that at the base of her thoughts she wished a male friend to tell of the tales of men and their endless escapades, like Eric had told. She was glad the Duke was hers, and even though she doubted getting such unholy tales, she would still be entertained, wouldn't she?

She would not be his mistress! The thought, like a fine slice of blade, flashed through her head. Of course she would not! Beth declared to herself. He was to wed Lady Cossington. She refused to be his conquest, and became a topic of ridicule among their peers. She would also not stand against the influential Lady Cossington. Beth decided to speak with him and tell him to cast his eyes elsewhere if he was seeking a mistress.

Impulsively, she turned a page again, her eyes falling on the letter that had arrived from Rosethorn Hill. Their visit to the Castle must have frightened Lord D'Averette to make a decision. He had finally made known his prospect of seeking Lucy's hand in marriage, and her Aunt's family could not be more happy; she would not ruin the good news with anything whatsoever, not even with the eligible Duke of Carlisle.

Although she could about do anything to once again discourage her family from the idea of seeing her wed, she would not stoop low to be a mistress. How could her mother send her an attached note of their willingness to accept a marriage prospect in her stead after Lucy's nuptials? She needed to speak to them again, and this time, hope they eternally forsake the topic.

Her promise would hold true: she would remain unwed.

A knock.

Beth lifted her head from the book she wasn't paying any attention to. Who could be at the door at such an ungodly hour? Was it the Duke? Did he come seeking her? Beth paid no mind, convincing herself she must have misheard. It was past midnight and his note had said nine o'clock. As he hadn't come looking for her, she had assumed he had had a change of mind, or was, once again, preoccupied.

Another knock, sent her out of her seat, running to the door. Gwen and Lucy were fast asleep and she didn't want to rouse them. Was he really at the door? Did he truly come seeking for her? With a turn, a soft click and a pull, the door opened and she peeked into the corridor.

The Duke was leaning on the wall, hands in his pockets, his head drooping. Beth recognized him immediately with the musky smell of cigar that hung around him and his stance upon the wall. She quickly repented not going to the west balcony. Had he been waiting for her? Did he wait for long? With the few lamps upon the walls, she noticed his clothes. He must not have retired for the night, he was still in his day clothes, but he was without a jacket. The night was cold. Was he not?

He raised his head as she stepped out completely, closing the door behind her. "Your Grace." She bowed.

"I feared you were asleep, though I hoped you wouldn't be." His voice was low and hoarse, like he had been drinking. She hoped he hadn't. "I realized you did not know where the west balcony is." He was looking straight at her.

She did. She had asked a maid earlier in the day. "I thought you would be tired from the events of the day, and with time fast spent, I did not wish to trouble you with a reminder." Would he ask for the rendezvous nevertheless? "You wished to see me?"

He stood erect and walked to her. "I sent a note. I wish for your company again tonight, or is that too great to ask?"

"It is past midnight, Your Grace."

"You were awake. You were waiting."

She had been caught. She had been waiting indeed, while convincing herself unsuccessfully that the Duke was preoccupied with pressing matters of states. "Excuse me then." He made no movement, no reaction whatsoever. Beth reentered the room, quickly took a wrapper from the armoire and threw it on. She ran over and covered the sleeping girls properly, smiling when she noticed Lucy's smile, wondering if she was dreaming already of Lord D'Averette. Blowing out the candle, she left them to their silly dreams.

Their feet made brisk, successive sounds on the floor. Beth followed the Duke down the same path she had walked earlier after a maid had pointed her in the direction. The sentries standing guard at designated places immediately noticed them as they walked by and bowed. She bowed slightly to them too. When she slowed down, he surprised her by grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her along.

Like the day before when she had sat by the window with her sister and cousin in their chamber, the night was quiet and the sky, dark. The wind was cold and moist. Dewdrops would definitely settle by the break of dawn, She concluded. Her skin was warm where he held her. Her heart turned over, hard. When they had walked the Castle grounds in the afternoon, she had noticed the trees and grasses were slowly losing their leaves, fall was finally setting in.

Her nostrils were beginning to hurt from the cold air and her hands were quickly turning cold. The balcony they stood on was high and the wind was extremely strong. If it was daytime, she wondered how far she would be able to see.

The Duke let go as soon as they stopped, and Beth quickly steadied herself with a hold on the railing, her heart slamming against her ribcage. Why had he held her?

The cold breeze blew again, wafting her hair from her face, disheveling it. Beth settled them as best as she could, tucking a few behind her ear. "The council had kept you preoccupied for days, and it has made me wonder if all is well with the Kingdom." She said into the awkward silence, rubbing one hand with the other, fazed.

"All is well." She heard him say, standing before the low lantern on the wall, silhouetted by it. "You were not on Castle grounds today when we arrived from the inspection." It was a statement.

She thought hard and quickly remembered. "We had visited the market today." She knew he had not been asking, still with a satisfied sigh, she continued. "There were so many things to entice the eye, a juggler here, a stall of dried fruits there." She smiled as she recalled. "It was a great sight and we enjoyed it. It was all we could do not to purchase a lot. Though Lucy couldn't care for the things that had us enthralled."

She expected him to ask why to keep the conversation afloat, but when he didn't, she was forced to espy the man that stood beside her. He was looking out towards the lands, holding onto the railing. The dark night deprived her chance to study him, only granting her his silhouette as her eyes adjusted well to the darkness.

They stood in the silence, the Duke making no movement at all. As the gentle cold breeze blew, the tobacco smells that waft from him tingled Beth's nostrils and it reminded of his presence; of him. She shivered. He smoked heavily, she knew, but how long ago had he started that night to have an odour so strong? A smell she was slowly finding soothing, a scent that told of him.