𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄.
chapter three; Duke Beaumont
" I assume that is why you failed to produce an heir? "

VITTORIA HATED THAT the staff in the French Castle insisted on getting her ready in the morning. Most nobles expected such treatment, and while Vittoria had grown up accustomed to such things, the St. Clair Estate hadn't provided such service.

And she never minded it.

After five years, she preferred the silent mornings, taking her time to set every lock of hair in place and paint flush on her cheeks and lips.

Now, however, that peace was stolen from her.

Hands were in her hair, pulling it tightly in the fashion her mother favored. She was exposed as they dressed her, lacing her corset until her lungs compressed. A cloud of perfume suffocated her as rogue was caked onto her skin.

She was claustrophobic in her own skin, and Vittoria bit back her rattling emotions each time another hand touched her.

"Good, you're nearly ready," Lillian greeted as she entered Vittoria's chambers, "I've two gentlemen for you to meet this morning over tea."

"I'd hoped I would get to have tea with Florence this morning," Vittoria dared, "Since I have been gone for so long--"

"Five years is hardly a long time, dear," Lillian laughed airily, "Once the both of you are married, you may never see one another again."

The thought made Vittoria stumble.

"Hurry now, I've no interest in keeping them waiting," Lillian continued, undeterred, "One of them is a Duke. He is quite keen to meet you, and he doesn't mind that you've been widowed."

Of course, he didn't. Of course, her mother had found a Duke who didn't care that Vittoria had been married previously within a day of her arrival.

"Raphael Beaumont," Lillian explained, picking at Vittoria's hair quickly, "He is well respected, Vittoria, you will suit him nicely."

She didn't want to suit anyone nicely. Vittoria wanted to sit by herself in her room for at least another week and spend time with only her sister.

"And who's the other man?"

"Well, if your meeting with Duke Beaumont goes as planned, you won't be meeting with the other man," Lillian informed, sighing as she stepped back to admire her daughter, "Come now, dear."

Vittoria stood on weak legs, nodding to the staff before following her mother through the castle halls.

It felt more like Vittoria was walking to her own funeral than a meeting with a suitor. As if she should have donned the dress she'd like the be buried in, because surely she wouldn't make it out of this alive.

She sucked in a deep breath as they approached a familiar set of doors. The last time she had been in front of them, was the day she met Viscount St. Clair.

Today, they were cracked open to reveal a Duke.

He stood slowly, a lazy smugness plastered on a perfect face.

He was attractive. Tall, with broad shoulders; but he wore it all like a medal of honor. As if he knew he was handsome and used it at every turn.

He reminded her of Sebastian. Like a mockery of the man she knew; this one wore embellished clothing and his dark hair in a neat style. Vittoria knew the difference here was this man, this Duke, had not earned the ego surrounding him. And Sebastian had never believed he was worthy of much at all.

"Lady Dubois," He greeted Lillian charmingly, "You're looking refreshed this morning."

"Duke Beaumont," Lillian smiled politely, though Vittoria could see the pride in her mother's posture, "I'd like to formally introduce you to my eldest daughter, Vittoria St. Clair."

Raphael's attention turned to Vittoria, raking over her frame from her head to her feet, and she had to fight off the shiver creeping up her spine.

"Your Grace," She greeted, dropping into a rehearsed curtsey.

"Viscountess St. Clair," He greeted, his smile widening as she looked up to meet his eyes, "It is truly a pleasure."

He held out a hand, and Vittoria moved robotically. Placing her palm in his, allowing the man to lift it and press a chaste kiss to the back of her hand before he led her to the small tea table.

Raphael had manners, at the very least, she thought. Pulling out her chair, gently tucking it back in once she had taken the seat. He rounded the table, taking his own seat, before waving for a servant to pour the both of them tea as Lillian took a seat in a far loveseat, cracking open a book that Vittoria knew she wouldn't read.

"Your mother says you enjoy the harp?"

"Yes," Vittoria said politely, "I've been playing since I was a child."

"I fear I've no musical talent," He informed, his lips tilted in a smirk, "The sound of a harp would be a lovely addition to my estate."

Vittoria offered him a placating smile, daring to sip the tea politely.

"What were your duties as Viscountess?"

This was not a question she was prepared for. Vittoria faltered, sending a nervous glance to her mother, who nodded almost invisibly over the book she held.

"I delegated tasks for the staff of the estate," She informed, placing her cup back on the delicate saucer, "Tended to any care for the Estate; planning meals, designing the gardens, and keeping the home decorated seasonally, as the Viscount wished. I assisted in bookkeeping when the Viscount requested it, and managed his schedule."

"A lot of heavy things to burden a woman with," Raphael noted, "I assume that is why you failed to produce an heir?"

Vittoria clenched her jaw. She had slipped up yesterday, but right now she did not have that freedom.

"I had little free time with all of my duties," She nodded.

Raphael hummed in interest, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, worry not. I already have an heir; I am searching for a Lady of the House now. To care for the home and children."

"What?"

Vittoria could feel her mother's glare, but it did little to deter her piqued confusion.

Raphael seemed undeterred, lifting his cup carelessly to his lips, "I am familiar with your situation, Viscountess. I'm a widower."

He stared, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. But Vittoria's face was impassible.

"My first wife died in childbirth," He informed after taking a sip of tea, "My second fell ill."

Two dead wives?

"Now I sit on a vast estate with two children, with no one to care for it or them. That is why I sought your mother out the moment I heard the news of your husband. My condolences, Vittoria."

The use of her first name made Vittoria bite down on the inside of her cheek. She wanted to correct him, but considering he was of a higher station, it would be deplorable.

"Thank you," She said politely, "I appreciate your honesty."

"It is the foundation of any strong beginning," He insisted, "Now, unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend. But I do hope we see one another soon. . . perhaps tea again. Tomorrow morning."

Dread sank in as Lillian stood quickly, chattering to the Duke about how wonderful that idea was.

Vittoria watched, chewing on the raw skin inside her mouth, as Raphael smiled and agreed, sharing details briefly with Lillian before departing for good.

She wondered if it would even take a week this time.

"Oh, Vittoria," Lillian smiled, "This is all so wonderful."

"Did you know he was married twice before?" She asked.

"Of course, dear," Lillian answered, "It's the very reason I believe he's unbothered by your status. I'll tell the second gentleman you aren't feeling well enough for a meeting-- If I find Florence, I'll have the two of them meet. . ."

Lillian continued speaking her plan aloud, but Vittoria lost focus, staring into her cup. Staring into her warped reflection in the dark liquid.

And then when she couldn't bear it any longer, Vittoria stood, excusing herself. And Lillian didn't mind, because Vittoria had played her part for the day.

The girl sucked in a breath as she left the room, placing a palm to her stomach to calm her knotted nerves as she walked quickly.

Vittoria knew where she was going. She didn't need a map or assistance, let alone most of her own mind, to get there.

But Florence's chambers were empty. Void of life; Vittoria wondered if she had slunk off in secret how she so often did.

But her handmaid informed Vittoria that Florence was spending time with Queen Mary and her ladies.

This was exactly how Vittoria wound up on the lawn of the castle, nervously wringing her hands in anticipation.

It was a foolish and entirely improper idea. To approach a queen without an invitation, to invite herself to this outing; but Vittoria couldn't help it. She needed her sister more than she needed to make a good impression right now.

She began walking, short and hesitant steps, and once one lady turned to spot her, Vittoria felt nauseous.

Until Florence spotted her.

"Vitty!" She smiled, standing quickly and hurrying to the woman, "Oh, I thought mother had you locked up, or else I would've invited you to join us!"

"It's quite alright," Vittoria said, offering a shaky smile, "I don't mean to intrude, I just--"

"It's no intrusion at all," Florence said, waving a hand, before turning back to the Scottish women, "Right, Mary?"

"Of course not."

Mary Stuart was a sight. Dark hair that fell in waves to her waist, a delicately detailed gown, perfect skin, free of all blemishes, a bright smile that gave off warmth, and to top it all off she looked so kind.

"Come, join us," Mary insisted with a smile, "Florence has spoken of you highly, we're very glad to meet you."

Vittoria still felt trepidatious about all of it, but let her little sister tug her along toward the blanket the women were sitting on.

Florence plopped back down, her dress fanning out as she did, and Vittoria followed suit, albeit a bit more gracefully.

"We heard you met the Duke Beaumont this morning," One of the women spoke up.

"Yes," Vittoria nodded, "He was polite."

"Oh, don't tell me that's who Mother wants to marry you off to?" Florence said, her face scrunching up, "We'll stop that before he can propose."

"What's wrong with this one, Florence?" Another woman questioned with a small laugh.

"I know you've seen me reject every eligible bachelor, but the Duke is different," Florence informed matter-of-factly, "He's been married twice before."

The women seemed shocked by that. Even Mary.

"They both passed," Vittoria said quietly, "If it is a sin to lose one's spouse, then I am as guilty as he."

"Except everyone knows he takes lovers while he is married," Florence argued quickly, "He may seem charming, Vitty, but he is a poor excuse for a gentleman. People say after his last wife gave birth to a daughter, he was so enraged he hit her. I wouldn't be surprised if the 'illness' that befell her was the Duke himself."

"Florence, you can't accuse such things," Vittoria said, despite her lungs restricting.

"It's not an accusation, Vitty. Everyone knows he's a rake who has little respect for anyone unless they are a man," She urged, "You won't marry him."

"I'm afraid I haven't got much of a choice if it's what Mother wants."

Florence frowned, shrinking back slightly.

"Aren't you of a higher title than her? How can she determine who you wed now?"

Vittoria turned to the woman who spoke, frowning at the curiosity.

"My situation is especially. . . unbecoming," Vittoria nearly winced as she began, "The Viscount was an only child. His mother died in childbirth, and his father was too heartbroken to take another wife. . . It was of the utmost importance for the Viscsount to produce an heir. Every year that ticked by, another one of his family members grew sick or old or fell in battle. . . until it was only he and I. The last St. Clairs in all of France."

Vittoria swallowed the lump in her throat, casting her eyes down to her lap.

"When he passed away, they searched for an entire week. Ensuring nothing had been missed. . . But nothing had. The reason I am still the Viscountess is because I am in possession of the St. Clair legacy."

"How were there no other relatives to care for you or the estate?"

"The Viscount was. . . quite a bit older than I," Vittoria informed one of the curious ladies, "Any other man his age would have children our ages. . . His father had one brother, who passed long before we were wed, and only had a daughter, who failed to start a family of her own."

They all stared at her with different shades of pity.

  Vittoria didn't include her own belief that the St. Clair line had been cursed. It was nearly unheard of to have a family so small, and yet, even prior to her failure of producing an heir, it seemed the bloodline itself had no will to carry on.

  They'd call her mad, just the same way her mother had.

"It is rather strange for a woman to hold title and land without a husband," Vittoria informed uneasily, "So, even though, yes, my title is higher than my mother's. . . it means very little to any man in power. As if it were a farce. . . I'd be ridiculed if I retreated, or if I took fate into my own hands, and attempted to navigate the world as a widowed woman of only twenty-three."

The women seemed to deflate with every word she said.

Vittoria offered an uneasy smile, that truly appeared more like a grimace, as they stared at her silently.

"I think it wouldn't be so terrible to be ridiculed," Florence said suddenly, sighing as she leaned over and rested her head on Vittoria's shoulder, "We could go live on that Estate, finally escape mother once and for all."

The lightness returned as the women laughed and began chatting about Florence's repulsion to any and all marriage prospects.

Vittoria sat politely, a small smile on her lips as she watched Florence with them.

It was so easy. Sure, Florence had never earned the same expectations from Lillian or Catherine or even Henry that Vittoria had; but she collected friends in a way Vittoria could only dream of.

She made every situation brighter. Brought out happiness and laughter. Spoke her mind as she pleased, and protected the people she loved.

Vittoria felt her heart relax, just from the proximity of her sister's energetic personality.

She tuned in and out of the conversation, managed to catch the names of Mary's ladies, and glimpses about their endeavors, but Vittoria couldn't focus entirely because she felt her muscles relax, tension she had grown to know as normal releasing until every part of her ached to the bone.

If she could only borrow a sliver of Florence's boldness, perhaps running back to the St. Clair Estate with her wouldn't be so terrible.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
literally I adore Florence
so much I already want
to plan to write a second
book with her story LOL