‘I am as yet unaccustomed with how to refer to her…’ Caleb laughed at himself.
‘Hannah,’ Caleb continued ‘is a resilient woman.’
Albert raised his eyebrow, interested in where this topic may lead.
‘My mother has not been entirely hospitable…’ Caleb implied.
‘Why, that doesn’t sound like your mother!’ Albert mocked, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘The same Dowager Duchess who wrote to my mother reporting my terrible behaviour upon my first visit to Montwood as a schoolboy? What was it I had done? Told a charming story at the dinner table about a frog I had found in the garden!’
‘In later versions, she claimed youpresented afrog at the dinner table!’ Caleb added sardonically.
‘I did nothing of the sort!’ Albert protested through an astonished laugh.
‘Quite.’ Caleb raised an eyebrow and sighed, exasperated, as ever, by his mother’s impractical overreactions.
‘Hannah has my most full and empathetic compassion. You must verily possess the flexibility of a contortionist to gratify your mother – and I daresay, you would still find yourself labelled as inadequate!’ Albert shook his head, reminiscing about his numerous encounters with the Dowager Duchess.
‘I would not blame Hannah should she cry each night in her bedchambers and should she have run from the room on various occasions since she began her life with us.’ Caleb shook his head, recoiling as he remembered Anne’s humiliation of Hannah on her arrival at the Montwood town-house; introducing her to the staff and promptly asserted thatshewas still to be considered the head of the household.
He thought to the evening with the Fairfax family, when his mother had blatantly placed Hannah in a situation where she had to publicly declare her lack of musical talent. He knew Anne had carefully orchestrated the evening to demonstrate Lucinda in a favourable light and make Hannah feel incompetent. Poor Hannah – he would not blame her at all if she refused to attend their meals on the basis that she was being consistently victimised.
‘But she has been stoic in her reception to my mother’s biting and has demonstrated notable fortitude,’ Caleb elaborated.
Albert tilted his head in interest.
‘She has impressed you!’
‘She is an impressive woman,’ Caleb acquiesced.
‘Have you had time to spend together, to learn about one another?’ Albert blew on his coffee to prepare its temperature for consumption.
‘Only fleetingly. There have been visitors and disruptions over these few days since our nuptials.’
‘And avoidance on your part, I’ll wager?’ Albert was the only friend who could banter with such brutality when it came to the Duke.
Caleb’s mouth twitched, vaguely amused by his friend’s brazenness.
‘I admit perhaps some avoidance. I was not interested in a wife, Albert, as well you know.’
‘And now?’
‘A friend. Perhaps it should be civil to be friends, as we will be navigating the decades toward oldage shoulder-to-shoulder.’
‘What a romantic perception!’ Albert jostled.
The Duke took a gulp of coffee without having blown on it, trusting that the curling steam would not feel as fearsome as it looked. He appeared unscathed and so Albert copied him, finding that the liquid burnt his tongue. He swallowed it down hastily with a cringing expression to reflect the pain he felt.
‘How do you take your coffee so hot?’ Albert spluttered.
‘I worry about her,’ Caleb mused, seemingly oblivious to his friend’s discomfort.
‘Your mother?’
‘Hannah. She is quite isolated and an oppressor can cause irremediable damage should the antagonism be permitted with no intervention…’
‘Then intervene, good man!’ Albert lifted his coffee cup as if raising a toast.
‘I shall. However, it is not without its complexities. My mother is extremely protective of her role within the household and defensive of her status within the family. She is clearly threatened by Hannah’s presence and I know that she can be vicious when she feels vulnerable.’
