Nothing Familiar

"My name is Marcello," the Duke gently but firmly reminded her when she addressed him too formally. "Please call me by my name when we're alone."

Louise blinked a couple of times, taken aback that he would want such familiarity with her when she had called her father 'My Lord' from the moment she could speak.

While they had been in the carriage, Duke Calvani tried to make small talk with the girl he knew nothing about. Her answers were stiff, almost rehearsed. Each time she would answer she called him 'Your Grace' and it made him feel as if he couldn't relax.

"I apologize," Louise responded, seeming slightly crestfallen for the first time since leaving the church.

Her sadness was worse to him than the practiced pleasant smile she wore on her face and he quickly leaned forward in the carriage seat and waved his hands.

"Please, don't feel as though you are in the wrong," he said softly, wanting to reassure her. "Be comfortable around me. It would be the best for both of us."

"I am comfortable," she insisted.

Marcello observed her straight posture because of the corset. Her expression had returned to neutral. Everything down to her hands folded neatly in her lap seemed uncomfortable, even though she was doing everything she was supposed to.

He wanted to tell her that someone her age should be running through a field of flowers without a care in the world. Yet he was the one who agreed to marry her, so he knew he was partially responsible for everything that was happening in front of him.

He found her completely impenetrable, and that was terrifying. He would prefer she stir up a fuss the way she did when he was caught calling her a child—something he would stand by even if she didn't like it.

Most of all, he wanted her to blame him for everything she was going through at that moment. Since she wouldn't, the rumors about her father seemed to be true. The Count had certainly exposed his precious daughter to too many things at such a young age. She was doing things expected of an adult while being a mere child.

Marcello only found frustration the further he pried so he ended up staring out the window for much of the ride.

He had been the one who had uncharacteristically insisted that he ride in the carriage with his new wife to get to know her more, but now he found it exhausting. They had warned him that his existence within the kingdom would get far less carefree if he took a wife and it rang true.

When the Duke refocused on the happenings in the carriage, knowing they were getting close to his estate in the capital, he looked over at Louise.

To his surprise, she was sitting perfectly straight up but completely asleep. If they went over a bump, she would certainly fall over, since her body couldn't bend in the clothing she was wearing.

Luckily they were about to arrive.

The older man sighed when they slowed then came to a stop and realized Louise was leaning more than before. Even though he didn't want to lay a hand on her, he lifted her effortlessly. She was lighter than the pack he carried when he was forced to go on foot if the trail was too precarious for a horse.

When the doors to the carriage were open, the knights he commanded were shocked to see him carrying his wife. Most knew how he felt, and how he had sworn to never lay a hand on her. Yet there he was carrying his bride into the impermanent home they would use for the night.

Considering the significance of a wedding night, he felt uncomfortable that anyone might have preconceived notions about his actions.

As expected of a Duke arriving home with his new wife, all the servants in the estate came to the front to greet the pair. Every bit of the estate was cleaned and sparkling down to the very last detail in preparation. Yet the Duchess wasn't awake to experience any of it.

Marcello pressed on and he mouthed "shh" as he walked by his house staff. They understood him well, yet not at all.

Of course, a man would want his wife to sleep before their big night. She would be exhausted otherwise considering the journey they had ahead of them.

The thought plagued him until he was able to take Louise to the room she would use for the night.

Once she was settled in, he shut the doors behind himself and breathed a sigh of relief.

He agonized over whether they would ever be comfortable with one another. While he spent much of his life focused on his knighthood, he always wanted to be comfortable when he returned home but he didn't know if it would be possible if each time returned, someone so stiff was waiting for him.

The Duke summoned a maid.

"Please take care of the Duchess," he requested. "Get her into something more comfortable. She's exhausted."

Even though his words were devoid of any suggestion, the maid perked up at the request. Everyone had been eagerly waiting for the Duchess to see what she was like.

It wasn't a problem that she was young considering it might be best for her to be molded to the person they needed her to be.

However, as Bella began to undress the young lady, she wasn't expecting to be met with such a young girl.

"Oh, dear," she uttered. "He wouldn't, would he?"

Marcello was known for being tenderhearted, so she wondered how he could think of having a wedding night with a girl so much younger than him. Did he perhaps not know her age? The corset and adornments perhaps made her seem older, but she was certainly not.

Knowing she couldn't go against His Grace's orders, she got Louise into a lace and satin white nightgown that went down to her ankles but the material was sheer and breathable.

A couple of hours later, the girl awoke to a mostly dark room. Her eyes took a while to adjust since the only lights were small candles set in sconces along the wall.

She sat up suddenly, shocked that her body felt so bare.

As she looked down at what she was wearing, expecting to see a wedding dress, she screamed in horror at everything around her changing without even noticing it. She didn't realize she was so tired until the carriage ride had lulled her to sleep.

Bella, the maid who dressed her before, came rushing into the room.

"Your Grace," she greeted the young bride. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so," she replied hesitantly as she tried to recompose herself. "I was surprised."

Her stepmother always told her it was a fatal flaw to get too emotional in front of staff. She was supposed to be seen as a stern leader and taken seriously or they would start going against the head of the house.

When her brain returned to her body as the shock of the new environment and clothing wore off, she managed to compose herself.

"That's understandable," Bella said. "You've been asleep for a few hours and, forgive me, but I re-dressed you because sleeping in a corset is inadvisable. There was a, ah, ring in your clothing so I placed it in the jewelry box on your vanity. The Duke already took his meal in his room. Would you like to do the same?"

Louise was mortified.

"Yes, I would like to eat here," Louise relented. However, she became uncharacteristically determined and requested, "After that, I would like to go to him."

Bella felt sweat on her forehead but she tried to hold in her worries. She needed to gauge the situation appropriately and she had faith in His Grace.

"If that is what you would like," the maid relented, offering a pleasant smile. "I will have it arranged. My name is Bella, Your Grace. Please call for me if you ever need anything."

Louise simply responded with a nod and, when the maid was gone, she slid to the edge of the bed so she could place her feet on the ground. As her head swiveled, she saw nothing she recognized—not even a single item from her previous home.

However, word of the ring made her run forward and search for the jewelry box in a panic. Sure enough, when she found the polished, cherry wooden box she opened it and her mother's ring was nestled in the velvet. She heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn't particularly valuable from what she could tell using her knowledge of finding the best and most expensive jewels. However, it was precious to someone who contained the very blood that ran through her veins.

If the small piece of jewelry could be useful one day, she wanted to keep it. She never met her mother, but it was the one thing she had left for her.

Since the one thing that mattered to her was no longer a pressing worry, Louise found a robe in one of the large armoires and put it over her body. It was summer, but she still felt cold.

All that was left to do was wait for her meal. Louise didn't want to seem so out of sorts any longer.

She wondered how anyone would like her if she presented them with how she really was.