My Mad Duke

Ava Rose Follett

Providence can’t possibly be this cruel to me. This is a sentence worse than death. Yet, here I am, forced into a life of unhappiness, dreaming I could simply run away from it… Oh, how I despise it with all my heart!

Nevertheless, my fate is sealed. There’s more at stake here than my happiness or lack thereof, as my Maman likes to remind me. It is about family duties, our place in society. And unfortunately, my brother left me to fend for myself after promising me he would always protect me. Alas, it wouldn’t be the first promise he has broken…

“A proper young lady should not speak loudly.” The gruff throat clearing disrupts the monotonous prattle. “A gentle, melodious, yet firm voice holds more power than a shouting one. She does not forget her good manners, even when engaging in an argument. How often should a young, respectable lady engage in arguments?”

“As often as possible, weekly is desirable, but at least once during a fortnight,” I reply, breaking my train of thought, my mind still far away. I hear the book Flora is holding close with a thud, and I skittishly dare to cast a glance in her direction. The reddish hue slowly encompassing her face matches perfectly with my bedroom’s crimson curtains.

“Miss Ava, once again, you weren’t paying any attention. You haven’t listened to a word I said. It’s like you don’t even want to learn proper etiquette. Do you know what happens to mannerless dilettantes?”

“They almost always pass into spinsters…” I parrot out, mimicking Miss Flora’s words. I so wish I could be anywhere but here. This is all so tedious and futile. No man will ever care what I think or say as long as I smile primly. By now, I am utterly aware of all the nonsensical rules I am supposed to follow to catch the eye of a respectable suitor, one of whom my parents will approve. And I don’t see the point of the daily lessons.

“Miss Ava, time is not benefiting us.” My governess frowns. “This cotillion will set the tone for your first season as a debutante. Between your stubbornness, your family’s lack of… prestige, and your Papa’s reformed ideas, as you should be of age before attending, we must do our best to ensure this season is also your last one. You need to marry swiftly. And I don’t need to remind you that the more time passes, the less likely it is for that to happen. Proper young men don’t just grow on trees, you know? It’s like you don’t even want a husband.”

Crossing her arms, Miss Flora shakes her head in disapproval. But more so, disappointment. Refusing to look in my general direction, she instead sets her gaze on the vast amount of books behind me, neatly stacked on the shelves. And I don’t blame her; I am being unreasonable. It’s not her fault I found myself in this predicament. So, I quickly mutter an apology and motion for her to continue. Not even a minute later, I find my thoughts wandering again.

What if that’s not what I want to do with my life? My parents want grandchildren, an heir for their lineage, but why should I be the one to provide them? I’m sure my brother Amos already has a few dozen out there for them to choose from. Blond, freckled, dark-eyed children don’t come that often. They will be easy to spot if they decide to pay closer attention to the suddenly mysteriously pregnant widows.

Why is my brother the only one to enjoy a life of leisure, absolved of all expectations, just because he can’t stay out of trouble? It seems like all they do is reward his misbehaving ways while simultaneously throwing this enormous burden on me.

And there’s also the matter of these esteemed gentlemen and their narrow views. If every potential suitor out there is anything like Papa’s friends, I shall die of boredom long before I am to be wed.

Even Amos’s friends aren’t any better with their uncut, scoundrelly ways and foul mouths. And in the end, what could be so bad about being a spinster for the rest of my life? I shall spend my days in the country cottage Maman inherited from Grandpapa. It’s small, yes, and unremarkable—a far cry from the luxurious mansion I grew up in—but I require very little, nor do I care for the brimming social life.

What other needs could a man possibly fulfil that I could not have by my own means? Alas, I digress, letting my mind wander too freely with dreams that will never come to be. However, my mouth decides to voice my concerns.

“Conveniently so, it looks to me as if everyone intentionally leaves out or chooses to forget a crucial fact: I am not the only child the Follett family has. One might even say I am the lesser option, as I will not carry the family name once wed. Far be it from me to critique such a well-thought-out decision, but it seems rather foolish to make me solely responsible for the salvation of the Follett legacy.”

I know my introspective quip will fall on deaf ears, as it has happened so many times before, but I still feel compelled to try. My free-spirited mind demands me to. I don’t like falling in line with the norm or behaving in an exclusively ladylike manner. Hence, the reason Miss Flora was hired was to provide me with adequate training.

“Oh, Miss Ava, there are only so many shenanigans this poor old woman can endure. Some light refreshments might restore my vigour. I will resume our lessons after I have had my afternoon tea. I shall meet you outside, in the garden, for our evening stroll.” Without waiting for my reply, she stands and crosses the large room, heading for the door.

Talking to her about the sentiments that affect me would be pointless. She’s very set in her old ways and couldn’t possibly understand my turmoil. I decide flattery might work better.

“As you wish, my darling Flora, I shall be eagerly waiting for you to impart more of your invaluable knowledge.”

“May the Lord have mercy on that poor soul you’ll one day wed. Mark my words: I will not rest until I make it true, and by doing so, condemn some unsuspecting young fellow to a life of eternal distress. But it shall be done, regardless.” Flora adds as she hastily flees away, maundering to herself.

Well, that turned out spectacularly. No matter. My dire situation won’t change unless I can think of a lucrative alternative. For that, I greatly needed some time alone with my thoughts… to recollect.

Amos’s recent fit of rage made Papa resort to extreme measures by having him committed to Joie du Vivre, an academic institution for troubled young men. They are supposed to sort out his weary ways through a combination of innovative therapy and the intense study of mind-expanding disciplines. Or, at the very least, rid him of his hotheadedness.

I hardly believe either of the two is truly accomplishable, and even Papa is a sceptic. Nonetheless, he saw it as a last resort, and over there, my brother will be out of trouble for the time being, considering it’s more or less a confinement situation.

Everything would be much easier if the doltish boy would simply admit what had been triggering his anger for years. Instead of facing his predicament like a real man should, he resorts to fighting and floundering around, seemingly without a care. I’m unsure what finally pushed my parents to agree that this matter could not possibly go on any longer and that drastic measures were needed.

But never be mistaken. Despite all, I adore my brother, dense as he might be. And I plan to straighten him out myself. It’s my firm belief that’s my one true mission on this earth. There might be some benefits for me as well if I’m successful, but that’s beside the point. But first, it’s of the utmost importance to convince Papa to allow me to visit Amos.

There’s only so much I can do from inside these wretched walls. And I shall take full advantage of the fact that neither of my parents is fond of that place.

Maman would never set foot inside the institute, even for her darling child. The shame would be unbearable. And Papa is still refusing to see him. He is still utterly dissatisfied with my brother’s latest actions.

Instead, I’ll go accompanied by Flora and my chambermaid, Ellie. This will be presented as the better option, and I dearly hope it will suffice. That’s if Flora agrees. She can be rather fickle and unpleasant when sudden changes are being made to her rigid plans. If only there were a way to convince everyone of the necessity of my presence there. And maybe there is.

“Ellie.” I hastily ring the service bell, pacing around like a lady on a mission. Hurried steps surely follow.

“Yes, Miss Ava. Should I set the tea in the garden? Sir Follett has yet to arrive. And Lady Follett is... indisposed. Yet again.”

There is something in her fretful demeanour that makes me ponder her choice of words. I make a mental notation to question her later in that regard.

“I… well, actually no. Not tonight. There will be no need for that. Has the correspondence left for the day?”

“Mr Arthur was still at his post in the downstairs lobby, waiting for the carriage.”

“Excellent. Tell him to wait. I shall be there momentarily. Hasty, Elle.”

Stepping over to my secretary, I eloquently plead my case in writing. If all goes well, by this time tomorrow evening, I’ll be that much closer to achieving my goal.

---------

“Absolutely not! I shan’t hear such a preposterous idea! That’s no place for a respectable young lady. Whatever gave you that idea to begin with?”

Father’s teacup falls ungraciously on the table, its clinking noise disrupting the garden’s quietness.

“Papa, I beg of you; please reconsider. You know Amos’s predisposition. He won’t fare well at all when surrounded solely by strangers. Dr Bennett wholeheartedly agrees. It’s important for his progress.” I push one last argument, praying it will turn over Papa’s resolve. It’s just the two of us having tea this afternoon, and things are not progressing the way I envisioned they would. He sighs, clasping my hand in his, shaking his head briefly as if he were trying to sort whatever was going on inside. Or perhaps just choosing his words carefully.

“My darling girl, you are such a gentle soul. Caring for others has always been in your nature, and this sordid matter with your brother terribly affects you. I am not blind enough not to see it. And you have certainly always marched to your own drum, not caring what others might think.

As a father, I loved and encouraged that trait of yours—though I am afraid that might not have been such a wise decision. You grew up thinking you might one day conquer the world if you put your mind to it. And, unfortunately, that’s simply not possible.” He sighs, then continues,

“I admire your inherent need to help and do good, but surely there must be another way. Perhaps your mother could visit when she’s feeling... more invigorated.”

“Sadly, it might never happen…” I reply, lowering my gaze, before adding, “We are both heedful of that. I don’t think she’s fully come to terms with this decision. And you’ve read the doctor’s letter. He clearly said that it would help his recovery to have a family member attend his sessions. Papa, there’s no harm in trying. And I’ll be perfectly safe on his floor. I could never forgive myself for not attempting this fortuitous endeavour.”

A heavy silence descended upon the night air. Father becomes pensive, dissecting and pondering my words. Dare I hope I might have succeeded? Surely, I have. I truly believe Papa won’t deny me.

It was nothing if not a touch of genius to suggest supervised visits to Amos’s physician in my letter two days ago. Presenting it as an alternative approach that might improve his foul mood predispositions had the desired effect. And Dr Bennett’s approving response came quickly.

Glumly, Father retrieves his discarded cup and pins me with a long stare.

“Ava, this goes against all my firm beliefs about what’s appropriate or not. I am only allowing this absurdity because none of my methods have proved efficient throughout the years. And I still dream of the day he’ll abandon his boyish ways and resume acting like a proper gentleman.

After all, he’ll one day inherit all of this and my name, and I don’t want him running everything into the ground. Your governess and chambermaid shall be by your side at all times, from the moment you leave this house until you return. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Papa. I’ll make all the preparations and keep you informed.”

With a dismissive head nod, my father stands up and leaves for the house. He’s not a man of many words, not truly. And surely this was not a decision he took lightly, not with everything that’s on the line. I am aware he was most definitely reluctant, and he might revoke my newly gained privilege at any given time, so I won’t squander this opportunity. Playing all my cards just right is an absolute must.

Oh my, what a favourable victory! Yes, it’s a small one, but it’s a necessary first step. I still have a rather large hurdle to overcome. But here’s to hoping the rest of my subterfuges will go on just as impeccably. Running to my room, I find Flora at the top of the stairs.

“What a superb sunset, wouldn’t you say?” I tell her as I pass her by. But her blatant stare tells me I should tread more carefully. “Perhaps it wasn’t that enjoyable. No matter, I was on my way to finding you. Papa and I were discussing just now, and I shall like to visit my brother tomorrow. I have his blessing, but you’ll have to accompany me. And Ellie.”

Silence. Utter and complete silence and more blank stares for what feels like an eternity. Finally, with a harrowing sigh, Flora addresses my proposition.

“To that mental establishment where he was sent off to? It’s Tuesday, which means quadrille lessons, the ladies’ luncheon, and a dress fitting with the modiste. But I suppose we could postpone those. As it happens, I might have a... delicate matter that I could settle while there. Be it as you wish. I shall have it sorted out. We leave at dawn.”

With that, she’s gone, leaving me flummoxed and contradicted. There must be more to that story. Flora is anything but pliant. However, that is a worry for another day because, come daylight, my actual plan can be set into motion.

And I’ll be that much closer to reclaiming my true freedom.