𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄.
chapter four; A Viscountess's Dowry
" We are ever grateful for your kindness with us in uncharted waters. "

VITTORIA AWOKE TO the sound of shuffling. Briefly, she was panicked, shooting up in her bed in a frenzy, her heart in her throat, until bleary eyes cleared and she focused in on the scene around her.

Servants. Shuffling about.

One noted she was awake, approaching the woman who was rubbing her brow in a feeble attempt to push away her oncoming headache.

"My lady," The girl said politely, curtseying briefly, "Your schedule for the day has been written. Shall I prepare your dress?"

Vittoria gnawed at her bottom lip as she glanced to the table beside her bed, and the parchment neatly placed on it.

It was her mother's handwriting, and this was no surprise. Lillian adored schedules. Simple and concise; they were delivered to Vittoria's bedside before she awoke, detailing every activity she would partake in from dawn until dusk.

She skimmed it, grimacing at the reality of morning tea with Duke Beaumont. Some things weren't as horrible, Lillian had outlined an hour for Vittoria to practice her harp, though Vittoria knew it was her mother's way of testing to see if the skill had held up in her marriage.

The thing that made her brow furrow was a three-hour window blocked out for Francis Valois.

Vittoria pondered on it as she allowed the maids to complete their ritual, tugging her hair and ribs until both were so tight Vittoria wished to collapse before she even stood.

What could Francis need from her? And, more importantly, how had he persuaded Lillian to offer up three hours?

If anyone could, it was Francis. Lillian had adored the Dauphain, perhaps mostly because of his title, and anytime he wished for time with Vittoria, she scarcely denied it.

"You haven't slept well."

Vittoria glanced up at her mother's comment, so lost in her own mind she didn't hear Lillian enter.

"I slept fine," Vittoria denied weakly.

Lillian's fingers were prodding beneath Vittoria's eyes, a look of distaste as she inspected the girl's skin.

"Your eyes are puffy and dark, and your skin is far too dull," Lillian mumbled, "I'll send tea for you tonight. We can only hope the Duke will excuse your appearance."

Vittoria did nothing to argue, turning back to her mirror as the maid reverently resumed dotting rogue on her cheeks.

The tea would be some concoction crafted by Catherine De Medici to slip into a deep slumber. Vittoria used to loathe her mixtures, and loathed even more the classes she had to take from the woman on them.

She had only realized how useful they were as she grew older. And now she ached for a tonic to put her to sleep and combat the mere idea of a nightmare.

Lillian ushered her daughter up just as the last pin was placed in her hair.

The same funeral march began again.

Those doors leered at her, and Vittoria swore she could hear the mocking in their groan as Lillian pushed them open.

Duke Beaumont stood with a smile, repeating the same actions as the day prior. Tucking her seat in, circling the table, claiming his own position, and waving for tea to be poured.

Lillian sat in the same seat, cracking open the same book.

"The boating party is approaching quickly," He said casually, lifting his cup as soon as the tea had filled it entirely, "Do you intend to partake in the festivities?"

Lillian hadn't mentioned any upcoming festivities, but Vittoria knew the castle well enough to understand there were parties for everything. Festive gatherings, sometimes only because Henry wished for them.

She also knew the castle well enough to understand there wasn't a world in which she had the choice of attendance.

"Yes," Vittoria agreed, forcing her hands to remain still in her lap, "How about yourself, Duke Beaumont, do you enjoy such gatherings?"

He laughed, easing back into the chair.

"Only a fool would not," He waved, "Music, laughter, food, and drinks-- what more could one ask for?"

Vittoria could think of a few things.

"I'd love nothing more than to attend with you at my side," He continued, his gaze growing more intense as his smile grew, "Would you like that, Vittoria?"

No, she wanted to say. No, I would not like that at all.

But instead, Vittoria glanced quickly at her mother, whose eyes were already on her, promising a silent warning.

"Very much so," Vittoria said, forcing her own smile, "You flatter me, Duke Beaumont."

"I intend to," He said, sitting forward, "Not to mention having you on my arm may persuade other men that may. . . sully your prestigious reputation."

Vittoria's brows pinched briefly, she could hear her mother shift, an otherwise unnoticeable sound, but one that told Vittoria the woman was on edge.

"How do you mean--?"

"The King's bastard is no company for a woman of your title," He said the words before Vittoria could finish her own sentence, "I understand you grew up in the castle alongside he and the Dauphin-- and while the latter is good company for you to keep, I still would hesitate if knowing you spend time unchaperoned with either of them."

Vittoria couldn't disguise her recoil at his statement.

He was not her husband. He wasn't even her intended, and yet he was already placing rules?

Not to mention the fact that Vittoria wanted to not-so-subtly remind him that her virtue was long gone, stripped away the day she married the Viscount five years ago, so the worry of a chaperone was merely to upkeep appearances.

"I--"

"Vittoria does not spend time with any man unchaperoned," Lillian spoke up from the corner, "I apologize if she took any missteps at the picnic, I can assure you, nothing of the sort has, or will, occur."

The Duke seemed pleased with that statement, taking another sip of his tea.

But Vittoria felt her stomach churn and bile rise in her throat.

Florence's words from the day prior rang in her mind; those horrible accusations didn't seem so far-fetched now.

He was a poorly masked monster, a wolf in Duke's clothing; it was easy to see.

But Lillian cared little for the kindness of suitors; she only saw titles. Ties to wealth and land and spoils she would receive from her daughter's marriage.

"I do wish to speak on the matter of a dowry," Duke Beaumont stated, "As yours was given to your late husband, may he rest in peace."

His sentiments weren't even genuine.

"We can arrange for something to be drawn up," Lillian spoke again, "But you are correct, Vittoria's dowry was transferred to the late Viscount the moment they married."

Unease settled around them.

"I understand," The Duke said, with faux sympathy, "I'm happy to overlook such a matter."

Lillian's mouth opened but no words came out. Her shock was clear, and Vittoria mirrored this sentiment.

More so because she had never seen her mother rendered speechless before.

"I will consider the property currently under Vittoria's name her dowry," He said, smiling as he turned back to the girl, "It will become mine once we wed, after all, and there's no need to concern yourselves with anything in addition to this."

The realization settled over Vittoria slowly.

"That is very generous of you, Duke Beaumont," Lillian doted, standing from her seat, "We are ever grateful for your kindness with us in uncharted waters."

Generous of him? Vittoria had to bite back a laugh at the sentiment.

It was generous of him to seek out this marriage only after the land and wealth Viscount St. Clair had left behind.

Vittoria had heard the man gloat about his lands; it was central in the country but reclusive enough to have rich farmland as a thriving source of income. Every season was a bountiful harvest; transportation to sell was cheap, and so was the labor, so profits were overwhelming and only grew each year.

They had never experienced a blight like other lands. Never had a year the crops didn't grow perfect produce. Never worried the workers would revolt.

Yes, the riches Vittoria owned were large, but the real prize was the source of that income. The promise that any money she had was only the beginning if one continued with the same position as the Viscount.

The sight of Duke Beaumont revolted Vittoria St. Clair.

And it terrified her.

If he only wished for the lands, what would he do with her?

"I'm looking forward to the party, Vittoria,"

She must have missed the conversation between the Duke and Lillian, as Vittoria glanced up in surprise, noting that both were standing.

Vittoria hurried to do the same, dropping into a curtsey as the man laughed, exchanged a few more words with Lillian, and then departed.

And she was off for the rest of her scheduled day.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
Beaumont SUCKS lol