Agnes nodded, tightening her grip on the horse’s reins as she replied.
“Yes. I have to sort through some final decisions for my wedding after breakfast with the Dowager Duchess and my godmother,and so I wanted to get him a little warmed up against later because I am not sure when I’ll be getting to train him.”
“You are working really hard,” the older woman observed with a smile. “We’ve seen how you have been doing your very best with Scar and ensuring that your wedding goes without a single hitch, and it has been impressive to watch. You will make a great Duchess, my Lady, and it would be an honor to serve you.”
Marion’s words melted Agnes’ heart, and it took a lot to keep herself from tearing up instantly.
“I cannot take all the credit. You and the other members of the staff have granted me a lot of assistance along the way, and I am very lucky to have such capable hands by my side.”
She meant every word. Over the last few days, Forestwood had grown to feel a little more like home with every passing moment. She knew that it would never completely come to be so – not without her sisters – but she had grown quite comfortable within its walls and on its grounds, and it was mostly due to the care of the kind staff.
They had accepted her without a second thought and provided her with anything and everything she needed. Agnes often found herself praying that she would make a trustworthy and dependable Duchess because they deserved nothing less.
And hearing one of the highest members of the household state their belief in her warmed her heart up with assurance.
“We are always happy to help.” Marion’s smile dimmed slightly, and she lowered her voice. “I… I understand that the circumstances of your marriage are not ideal. Still, I really do hope that you are not too discouraged. I know that the Duke can be challenging, but please find it in your heart to pity him. It is not his fault that he is the way he is. I imagine that anyone would change after going through what he went through.”
All of Agnes’ attention snapped to Marion, and she couldn’t stop herself from questioning, “What? What happened?”
Marion shook her head as if recalling the events alone filled her with immense grief.
“I… I suppose no one has told you… How the old Duke passed.”
When Agnes shook her head, the housekeeper sighed and wrapped her arms around herself.
“He was in an accident. No one really knows all the details, but he had been on his way home with His Grace – your betrothed – and their carriage had somehow lost a wheel during the ride and ended up crashing into a forest. The old Duke had died right before his eyes, and from what the mortician had said when Her Grace had demanded to know what happened to her husband – they did not let her see him – he seemed to have suffered quite a bit. His Grace was injured, too, but thankfully, he was all better in a few weeks. But his mind did not recover, I think. He used to be so thoughtful and kind, but now…”
“I just… I hope he is kind to you, my lady. Both of you deserve to be happy, regardless of what pains you might have endured in the past. Perhapsbecauseof all your suffering, even.”
It was devastating to learn that about Silas. To think that he had been a part of the accident that claimed the life of someone he led dear. She could only imagine what that could do to a person, to have not merely been involved in the same accident but to watch as your loved one passed on, helpless and hurt.
It might not excuse Silas’ faults, but it shed some light on why he perhaps could not stand the idea of forming attachments with others. His parents were no more, and he also lost the person who had raised him afterward. Agnes understood the pain of loss all too well, and her only deliverance from a path of loneliness and possible destruction was her sisters. She had moved on – lived on for them. But Silas… he was alone, without anyone who could understand his grief as clearly as he experienced it.
Marion’s words stayed with Agnes for the rest of the morning, echoing in her mind as she ran Scar through a few drills – less than she had initially planned to because she could not focus – and even while she ate breakfast. The meal went by quickly due to her inability to taste anything, and soon, she was sitting with her godmother and the Dowager Duchess, going over some of the final details of her wedding.
“Shall we invite Lord Reinhart?” Lady Anna asked, narrowing her gaze at the guest list.
“Perhaps not. He and Silas got into a tiff at last year’s horse competition, and he appears to have held a grudge over it. I would rather not let someone with such dislike for my grandson attend an event that is meant to mark a new beginning for him.” Alexandra replied, stirring her tea. “Silas would prefer the wedding to be small, intimate anyway – a small mercy upon us as he doesn’t have a lot of friends anyway.”
“Also, he is much too irritating to be around, given his tendency to bootlick at any opportunity he gets.” Agnes’ godmother shivered in disgust and crossed the name from the list.
“Precisely,” the Dowager Duchess nodded, then glanced at Agnes, who had hardly spoken since they began. “I am sorry, dear, that your sisters cannot attend.”
When no reply was given, Lady Anna reached out and pinched the bride-to-be. Agnes sat upright with a start, glancing between them with pink cheeks.
“I beg your pardon?”
Silas’ grandmother exchanged a look with her godmother and repeated herself, “I’m sorry that your sisters will not be able to attend your wedding.”
“Oh,” Agnes cleared her throat and stared down at the table with a frown. “It’s… it’s all right. I shall see them soon enough, regardless.”
Her response – although expected, given her usual stance on topics involving her sisters – did not chase away her godmother’s concern as she reached out to gently pat at the spot on Agnes’ arm that she had pinched.
“Are you all right, love? You seem… distracted.”
Agnes blinked at her and hung her head again.
“I… I’m sorry. I am merely a little tired, that’s all.”