“It is a hard thing that you ask of me.”
“But not one you cannot grant. I need to do something.”
“You can go visit my sister at Ridlington; the country air would be good for you.”
“Doctor Phillips says I am not allowed to travel in my condition, and you know it. Surely Your Grace merely jests at my predicament.”
“Fine then, I will write to my sister to come to see you instead.”
“That would be wonderful Your Grace, but I still want to do something. I want to redecorate the West Wing.”
Andrew, by now, had grown weary and given up. “But no overly light colors; I like my study dark and brooding like me.”
Marjorie laughed. “I promise I will not disappoint you.”
“You better not.”
* * *
For the next few days, Andrew, who had to temporarily leave the West Wing because of the renovations taking place, was surprised to see servants troop in and out carrying one piece of furniture or another. He blanched when he saw them carrying his favorite portrait out of his study and immediately ordered them to return it to its position. Marjorie had then come to reassure him that it was going to be exactly where it was and to trust her. After three weeks of hard labor, the West Wing for ready, and Marjorie already had a little visible swell of her stomach. One morning, after breakfast, Marjorie led Andrew blindfolded to the West Wing, and when they got to his study, she removed the blindfold and watched him see his study for the first time since she started the renovation. She watched the expressions on his face, worried that he would not be pleased with the play with colors she had used on his walls. She had not used anything light but had used a deep green plush wallpaper with a white covering to blend the colors. She was still unsure if Andrew would like it, but it was only when he turned to her with tears of gratitude in his eyes that she heaved a sigh of relief.
“You like it? You really do like it, and you are not just saying that because you think it is what I want to hear?
Andrew looked at her, smiling.How had he gotten so lucky?
“Yes, I see what you mean by wanting to bring this room to life, the way the colors play out, and let the light in. It looks great.”
“I am happy that you approve.”
“Thank you, My Love.”
Marjorie smiled, feeling accomplished. She only wished the Dowager could see the new place now, but on second thought, she would probably not have approved of Marjorie making any changes to the Manor. She could not wait for Ellen to see her work. A part of her felt she would not be pleased with the way it looked until she could see it from Ellen’s eyes, and so, she looked forward to their next meeting which was gratefully happening soon.
When Ellen came to pay a call to Marjorie, she was taken aback by how the entrance of Grant Manor had changed. It had a softer and more welcoming feel, and she grinned, knowing that Marjorie, in a short while, had already been to work. She had put off renovating Ridlington Manor mostly because it had just been newly renovated by the Dowager Countess, and she had taken to more bed rest which Ellen attributed to her getting on in years. Ellen was let into Grant Manor and was pleased to see that some of the old servants still remained although she saw new faces. She made her way straight to the drawing room to await Marjorie. When Marjorie came down the stairs, Ellen was thrilled at her appearance. Marjorie had taken to marriage like a fish to water, and Ellen mentioned it as they sat comfortably.
“Do not flatter me as if it is not enough that your brother does.”
“I believe he has been keeping you off your feet?”
“Oh, he has tried. The other day, he threatened to fire any servant who sees me not relaxing and doesn’t inform him.”
Ellen laughed. “I am pretty sure he must get a lot of reports.”
“He does. Apparently, none of them are on the side of their Lady. It is a shame really.” They both laughed.
“How is Gerard?”
Ellen blushed. “He is very well. Look at us! Months before, we were just Ellen and Marjorie, and now we are a Countess and a Duchess.”
“Whenever I hear them say ‘Your Grace’, I laugh a little.”
“But like I said earlier, you have embraced your role and title so well and to your taste.”
“And look at you! You look like you were born ready for this life which, in truth, you actually were.”
They laughed again as a servant brought some cakes and tea. “Tell me, how is the Dowager?” Marjorie asked, careful not to seem as though she was pressing.
“Well, she is all right. The last time I went to the Dowager House to see her and tell her I was married, she refused to grant me an audience. I had to make do with learning about her from what the doctors said. Apparently, she does not have much time left, but she is comfortable and feels no pain.”
