Chapter 4 : Morning After

The first light of dawn was filtering through the windows when Eleanor awoke. She had finally fallen asleep sometime in the early hours, exhausted from emotion and lack of proper rest.

She was alone in the bed. Alexander was already up and in his wheelchair by the window, staring out at the snow-covered grounds. He didn''t turn when she stirred.

"Today you will move to the room next door," he said without preamble. "I''ve had it prepared for you."

Eleanor sat up, pushing her hair back from her face. "As you wish, my lord."

"You will also present yourself to my grandmother, the Dowager Duchess," he continued, still not looking at her. "She expects the new Duchess to pay her respects. I will not accompany you."

Eleanor nodded, though he couldn''t see it. "I understand."

She rose from the bed, feeling awkward and exposed in her nightgown. Her belongings had been brought from the carriage and placed in a corner of the room. She found a simple morning dress and began to dress, her back turned to Alexander.

When she was decently clothed, she turned to face him. "Is there anything else I should know before meeting the Dowager Duchess?"

Alexander finally turned his wheelchair to face her. His expression was unreadable. "My grandmother is... traditional. She values propriety above all else. Do not mention the circumstances of our marriage. Do not complain. And for God''s sake, do not cry."

"I won''t," Eleanor said, though the thought of facing the formidable Dowager Duchess alone made her stomach clench.

A maid arrived to help Eleanor with her hair and to show her to her new room. It was adjacent to Alexander''s, smaller but comfortably furnished. There was a proper bed, a dressing table, and a small sitting area by the fireplace.

"Your things have been moved here, my lady," the maid said, her eyes downcast. "The Dowager Duchess expects you in the morning room at ten."

Eleanor glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was already nine. She had little time to prepare.

With the maid''s help, she dressed in a modest but elegant gown of dark blue wool, appropriate for mourning the loss of her old life, she thought wryly. Her hair was styled simply but neatly, and she wore no jewelry except for the wedding band Alexander had not given her.

At precisely ten o''clock, she was shown into the morning room. The Dowager Duchess, Lady Beatrice Hastings, was seated by the fire, a formidable woman in her seventies with sharp eyes and an even sharper demeanor. Around her sat several other women—cousins, aunts, and other female relatives of the Hastings family.

All conversation ceased as Eleanor entered. Every eye turned to her, assessing, judging.

"Your Grace," Eleanor said, curtsying deeply. "I am Eleanor Winters... Hastings. I have come to pay my respects."

The Dowager Duchess studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly. "Come closer, child. Let me look at you."

Eleanor approached, keeping her eyes lowered as was proper for a young woman in the presence of her elder.

"You''re thinner than I expected," the Dowager Duchess observed. "And paler. Are you unwell?"

"No, Your Grace. I am quite well, thank you."

One of the younger women—a pretty blonde with cold blue eyes—snickered. "Perhaps she''s pale from fear. They do say my cousin can be... intimidating."

Eleanor recognized her from the family portraits she had seen. Victoria Hastings, Alexander''s cousin, known for her beauty and her spite.

"Victoria, mind your tongue," the Dowager Duchess said, though there was no real reproof in her voice. She turned back to Eleanor. "Sit, child. We were just discussing the upcoming winter ball. As the new Duchess, you will be expected to host."

Eleanor''s heart sank. Host a ball? She had no experience with such things. At home, Lady Margaret had always taken charge of social events, leaving Eleanor in the background.

"I... I would be honored, Your Grace," she managed to say.

Victoria leaned forward, a malicious smile playing on her lips. "Tell me, cousin, how did you find your wedding night? I hear Alexander didn''t even attend the ceremony. That must have been... humiliating."

The room went silent. All eyes were on Eleanor, waiting for her reaction.

Eleanor took a deep breath, remembering Alexander''s warning not to show weakness. "My husband had matters to attend to," she said calmly. "As for our wedding night, that is between husband and wife, and not a subject for polite conversation."

Victoria''s smile faltered, replaced by a look of surprise. Clearly, she had expected tears or stammering apologies.

The Dowager Duchess''s lips twitched in what might have been approval. "Well said, child. Victoria, you would do well to learn some discretion."

The conversation moved on to other topics—the weather, the state of the roads, the latest news from court. Eleanor answered when spoken to, but otherwise remained quiet, observing the dynamics of the family.

She quickly realized that Victoria was the ringleader of the younger women, and that most of the others followed her lead. The older women, including the Dowager Duchess, seemed more interested in maintaining appearances than in actually welcoming her.

After an hour that felt like an eternity, the Dowager Duchess dismissed her. "You may go, child. Remember, you represent the Hastings family now. Conduct yourself accordingly."

Eleanor curtsied again and left the room, feeling as though she had just survived a battle. As she made her way back to her chambers, she passed Victoria in the corridor.

"Not so high and mighty now, are we?" Victoria murmured as she passed. "A substitute bride for a broken man. How fitting."

Eleanor kept walking, her head held high. She would not give Victoria the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

But once she was alone in her room, she sank onto the bed, her composure crumbling. The reality of her situation was sinking in. She was alone in a hostile household, married to a man who wanted to be rid of her, surrounded by people who despised her.

What was she to do?

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