"Lies and secrets, Tessa, they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind." Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

---- 

XII.

Alex had never seen such a large home. Never. Not even the plantation houses had been so grand. It was truly a palace situated on lush, green land in what could have been the heart of the country, when in reality it was but a stone's throw from London.

And this was where Susanna lived.

Susanna's brother, the duke, was perhaps the most courteous peer Alex had ever encountered. Of course, he had not encountered many, but the gentlemen that he had come into contact with preferred to greet him with their fists and not a smile.

This was the reason that Alex and Len had not ridden to Hertfordshire until now, as Alex had needed to wait for his bruising to subside before he could sit in a saddle for thirty miles.

The three men were on horseback, being led in front by the duke. Len had gladly accepted the duke's offer of accommodation without a second thought. Alex did not want to be sceptical, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't see kindness without strings. He couldn't understand kindness at all.

The duke led them to the back of the estate where a series of outbuildings were situated, one of them being a stable. Two grooms emerged from the stables and the duke slowed his horse to a stop before them.

Alex pulled on Argent's reins, and she slowed immediately. He jumped down from her saddle and ran his hand comfortingly along her neck as he caught the eye of one of the grooms.

He was a young man who could be no older than twenty or so. He looked slightly frightened of Alex, or at the very least intimidated. Alex turned away and cooed in French to Argent instead. She was never afraid.

"Please feed and water Mr Whitfield and Mr Bishop's horses," the duke instructed as he handed his reins to the first groom. "Then put them in the stable."

The young groom timidly came to collect Argent's reins. Alex uttered, "Merci," under his breath, not knowing what else to do.

"Come along. Allow me to show you the house," the duke continued, not seeming to notice the interaction.

The three men walked back across the grounds towards the house, and Alex could not help but still marvel at its grandeur. What it must be like to be master of such a house. Alex had fallen a few steps behind the duke and Len.

It was not purposeful, but habit. He received less dirty looks when he was not seen to be walking at equal stride with white men.

The duke was speaking to Len, but as he was ahead, his voice was muffled, and Alex could not quite understand what was being said. But the thought of "master" passed through Alex's head again.

Alex had not known many masters personally, but reputation often preceded them. The one master he had known personally had left his mark on Alex permanently.

As much as Alex was sceptical, this man did seem very decent, which Alex knew he would be able to believe and very soon indeed. He was related to Susanna, after all. It only made his sin that much greater.

Len was not afflicted, not that he ever was. He was smiling and chuckling and complimenting the duke to no end. Alex wondered what it must be like to not suffer the burden of a conscience.

The duke led them up a large stone staircase at the rear of the house and through a large, wooden door. He, Len and Alex found themselves in a panelled hallway illuminated by windows on either side of the door. It was adorned with portraits of people dressed in regal elegance, and the pile of the carpet on the floor looked to be woven by an artist.

The duke walked swiftly down the hallway, turned a few corners, and finally brought them out into a much larger foyer area, where Alex spotted another enormous door, which he imagined to be the front entrance. In the foyer was a spectacular staircase leading up to the floors above. Once again, the panelled walls were decorated with artworks of people, perhaps Beresfords of the past. There were several closed doors off the foyer, and another large corridor leading off to another section of the house.

They were joined soon after by a man dressed in servants' livery, though the ensemble itself was probably more expensive than everything Alex owned put together. He was an older man with a stern expression, though he kept his gaze neutral over the two men accompanying his master.

"Ah, Cole, perfect timing," said the duke. "These men are to be our guests. Mr Whitfield," he gestured to Alex, "and Mr Bishop," he motioned to Len. "Would you please see to it that rooms are prepared?"

Cole nodded his head. "Of course, Your Grace," he murmured respectfully.

"Where are the ladies?" the duke then asked.

"They are all still in the drawing room, save for Mrs Denham who has returned home, Your Grace," replied Cole. "Though the duchess has just returned from the nursery as it was time for your daughters' rest hours."

"I wonder if they are yet asleep," the duke seemed to mutter to himself as his eyes flicked up the stairs. "The duchess and I have two young daughters," explained the duke after a moment.

"Oh, how charming," remarked Len with a saccharine sweet smile. "

"They won't be if I wake them from their sleep, but I haven't yet seen them today," joked the duke. "Cole, would your show our guests into the drawing room? I am going up to the nursery for just five minutes. Do not tell my wife."

"Yes, Your Grace."

The duke disappeared up the stairs and Cole walked over to one of the rooms off the foyer. He opened the door and cleared his throat. "Mr Bishop and Mr Whitfield have arrived," he announced, before stepping aside and leaving room for Alex and Len to enter into the drawing room.

The drawing room itself was another rich space, flooded with light thanks to a large window, and filled with luxurious furnishings and artwork, with the centrepiece being a grand pianoforte near the fireplace.

Three women occupied the room, and Alex knew two of them. The third, a small, dark-haired young woman had to be the wife of the duke.

Susanna was first to her feet, with a warm smile on her face as she looked solely at Alex. The very moment he saw her smile, Alex felt the warmth wash over him, and for a moment, all was well.

"It is so nice to see you again," breathed Susanna.

Just as Alex was about to respond, Len caught her hand, clasping it between both of his. He smiled down at Susanna, and she recoiled instinctively.

"I cannot thank you enough for your sweet kindness, my dear Lady Susanna," gushed Len sinfully.

Susanna artfully removed her hand from Len's and managed a small smile. "Not at all," she replied. "When I informed my brother of Mr Whitfield's service, he agreed that it was only right." She manoeuvred herself around Len and came to stand before Alex, her smile improving immediately, and Alex knew it was just for him. "How are you?"

Alex could see in the depths of her blue eyes that she had been worried about him. Lord, she cared. Why did she have to care? But, in the very wicked part of his heart, he loved that she cared. "All but healed, my lady," he uttered only for her.

"I am glad," she replied, most relieved. "Please, won't you allow me to introduce my sister-in-law?" To Alex's surprise, Susanna looped her arm through his and brought him properly into the room where the duchess was still standing.

Susanna's mother, however, was still seated, a cautious expression on her elegant face.

Susanna brought Alex over to the duchess. She seemed to be of a shyer constitution, though she did smile at him as he approached. Alex felt quite awkward as she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"Mr Whitfield, this is my sister-in-law, the Duchess of Ashwood. Grace, please meet Mr Whitfield."

As Len was neglected in the introduction, Alex spied out of the corner of his eye as he snaked his way over to Susanna's mother.

"I am delighted to meet you, Mr Whitfield," Grace said warmly. "Susanna has regaled us all with your gallant efforts. Thank you for keeping our Susanna safe."

Alex felt his cheeks warm as he resisted the urge to shout that Susanna was in no real danger, and that he had been the one to place her in that position in the first place. "The honour is mine, Your Grace. I am grateful to be invited into yours and your husband's home." Alex bowed, sincerely meaning every word.

"Speaking of my husband," Grace realised, looking around Alex, "where is Adam? Mr Cole?"

Cole was still standing by the door, waiting for dismissal, Alex presumed. "His Grace needed to check the ... drapes," he mumbled pathetically.

Grace's eyes narrowed. "Oh, no he didn't!" she nearly growled. "If he wakes Lily when I have just gotten her to sleep ..." she huffed. "He claims he doesn't hear her at night," Grace exclaimed to Cecily. "And yet she grizzles away because he wakes her every afternoon."

"I am certain Perry's father had a gong at one point. We ought to find it and you can whack it every time Lily cries and ask Adam if he hears that," replied Cecily dryly. "Though I do think Adam would be far less precious if the baby was a son. I have been doing some research, Grace, and it wasn't bladder that aids in conceiving males, but something called a pancreas. I don't know what that is, but we can speak to Mrs Reynolds and the next time you conceive we shall –"

"If you feed me pancreas, Cecily, I shall vomit it up on your bedclothes," huffed Grace as she marched past their party and out of the drawing room. "And I will have another girl to spite you!" Grace shouted from out in the foyer.

"Do you know, I have heard of the pancreas being a particularly effective tool to ensure a boy at birth," chimed in Len charmingly.

This time, Cecily took the bait. "Have you?" she remarked, a pleasing expression spreading across her face. "Do you know if the method of cooking alters the effectiveness? I had the bladder stewed, but perhaps if it was baked into a pie then Grace would not notice ..."

"Mother!" exclaimed Susanna.

Cecily ignored Susanna as Len replied with something absurd to support Cecily's beliefs. Alex had never heard anything more ridiculous than eating a particular sort of meat to determine the sex of a child. Surely God had more of a hand in it than dinner.

"I know poor Grace will be so embarrassed later on," Susanna muttered, turning her attention back to Alex. "Mother riles her up so, and Grace has the tolerance of a saint. But sometimes Mother pushes her just a little too far."

"I take it your mother wants to ensure an heir," Alex deduced.

Susanna nodded. "Which is ridiculous as we have an heir in Jack. And Adam and Grace are young and so ridiculously in love with one another. A boy will come eventually. Mother needs to stop pressuring Grace with these silly theories."

"Pancreas?" Alex smirked. It was like he was suddenly on the inside of a joke, and it was an addictively freeing feeling for a brief moment.

Susanna giggled. "I don't know where or what it is, but I would imagine it would taste foul, don't you?"

"Absolument," replied Alex in agreement.

As Susanna's laugh subsided, she smiled again, hopefully. "I hope you do not mind me ... commandeering your stay," she said apologetically. "We heard that the inn in Hexham had refused you rooms ... and to be quite honest, I wanted to talk to you again. I enjoyed talking to you in London. You are, indeed, one of the only gentlemen in my acquaintance who I do enjoy talking to."

"On the contrary, my lady," countered Alex, "I have never received such kindness from a family such as yours before. Len and I are very grateful." That was no word of a lie. "I enjoyed talking to you, as well." Again, another truth. "But I am not a gentleman."

"Oh, but I think you are," insisted Susanna, "in every way that matters." 

----

Hope you enjoyed!

In case anyone is across medical terminology origins (because this is the stuff I google ALL THE TIME to make sure my wording is accurate) the pancreas wasn't named until 1889, but I tried the lines with other organs and it just wasn't as funny so I took creative license ;)

But that's a fun fact: whenever I go to use a word I'm worried is too modern, I google it with "word origin" after to find out when it was coined. If it was after the year my story is set in, I don't use it. But I take that creative license sometimes when I really want to use a word.

No chapter tomorrow night as my family are throwing a surprise Star Wars themed party for my brother's birthday. Every dish we are serving as a Star Wars pun (i.e. Chicken X-Wings, Jar Jar Drinks etc) and we're all going in ridiculous costume. 

I'm wearing a hessian sack that says: 

SAND

*coarse, rough and gets everywhere variety

IF ANYONE GETS THAT REFERENCE HERE IS A VIRTUAL HIGH FIVE!

My brother will get it and I'm looking forward to him laughing.

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