Invited To The Castle

"Very well then." To the serving maids, he nodded for them to proceed.

And they did, placing first a large portion of cold meat on each plate, making Beth's eyes bulge. Then came the cheese, bread, mashed potatoes and dried tomatoes. They poured coffee for the Duke and upon request, tea for Beth, before bowing and leaving the room.

Beth exhaled. "I never imagined this to be your breakfast."

In the process of picking up his cutlery, he paused. "Why? Is it not to your liking?" He looked at her plate. "I can ask for a fresh plate for you."

Quickly she objected. "No no. By my words, I meant that your breakfast is to a certain degree… heavy." His eyebrow hitched. She looked at the plate and again at him. "If I eat like this everyday, I'm afraid I'll become lazy. God forbid I become slothful, or worse, fat." She raised her head in time to catch the slight twitch of his lips.

He picked his cutlery and began to cut away at the meat. "Breakfast is my most important meal. Much obliged to than any other." He took his time cutting the meat to small bits. Beth picked her cutlery as well. "I doubt you would become fat." She looked at him and he lifted his head. "You have a small statue."

Was he calling her short? Should she be insulted? Proudly, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I'll have you know I'm tall enough for my age. Quite tall!" She emphasized with a gesture.

His lips twitched again. Beth wondered if that was his idea of a smile. Other people always smiled or laughed whenever she called herself tall. Did the Duke not possess a funny bone? "Congratulations to you then." He was mocking her. Then, "You remind me greatly of my Mother."

She was slightly astounded. "The Dowager Duchess?" He nodded still on his meat. "That is a compliment. I thank you." The look in his eyes was unfathomable. Was he not trying to compliment her? Had she made a mistake? Her head hurt. He was confusing her.

He stopped cutting and to her surprise, switched their plates, giving her the one with the meat bits. Beth didn't know how to react. The Duke was starting to not be how people described him. "Thank you." Then, she added. "Although I could have done so myself, I can not refuse you." He looked up from her plate that was now his. "No one can, remember?'

"You can very much be the first." She looked straight at him, cutlery in hands. "I wish you to be my friend. Friends refuse friends all the time."

He wanted her to be his friend? What sort of friend? And she could refuse him? Could she refuse to be his friend then? She dared to test his words. "I refuse to be your friend then."

He stopped, turned to her and stared straight into her eyes. His gaze was strong, unyielding and overpowering; it took all her willpower not to look away. Then came the twitch again, and Beth was tempted to believe that was his smile. The Duke of Carlisle had a twitch for a smile, she supposed. "But you can't refuse me until you become my friend." He finally said.

She tittered. "In other words, I can not refuse you." She stabbed and held a piece of meat with her fork.

"You can not, yet." She smiled and ate a piece of meat. He resumed cutting the meat on his plate to smaller bits.

"Is the texture to your liking?"

She quickly chewed and swallowed. "Everything is wonderful, Your Grace. I am overwhelmed and honoured. Thank you." She smiled in appreciation.

He simply nodded and began to eat. She followed suit and in silence they continued their meals. Beth marvelled at how it could all be perfect. The meat was tender and equally well done. The mashed potato was a testimony to the tongue and the cheese, a ministration. Her tastebuds were having a ball of their own.

Amidst the wonderful meal, she continually reminded herself to inquire from him the sort of friendship he was seeking from her. For she has decided to be friends in name and thoughts alone if he so wanted. She would not succumb to dishonour.

While drinking from her cup, Beth stole a glance at the Duke who seemed to be enjoying his meal and wondered why he wanted her to be his friend so much that he had deceived her to his home by a note through her Aunt. Was he not friends with the King? What other friends could he ask for?

He suddenly turned to her. "What are you thinking?" Shocked, she inhaled and water took the wrong route. She had forgotten she still held up the cup to her lips. Swiftly, he came to her rescue, patting her back lightly. When her bouts were over, Beth was overwhelmed with shame. "Are you alright?"

She cleared her throat, then a light cough. "Yes, thank you, Your Grace." Another cough. "I'm much better now." The tears blurred his vision. He sat properly and poured her another cup. She accepted and took another small sip before she dared to look up to him. Her shame was glorious.

His eyes held hers. "You should be careful." She nodded. He picked up his cutlery again and she did too. Then, "What were you thinking?"

"What?!"

He dropped his cutlery and picked his cup instead. After taking a sip, he drawled. "You were looking at me."

"Nothing was on my mind."

"Hmm." Then, "When do you return to Ireland?"

Beth was taken aback. That was a topic different from the one currently on. How was he perfect at it? Still, she answered. "In ten days. Mother and Father allowed us two weeks here." Then she dropped her cutlery, she couldn't stomach anymore. "Why do you ask, Your Grace?"

He returned the cup to the table. After wiping his mouth, he replied. "I wish to know you more, but I received an order this morning from the King and I might be gone for a week."

"Ah." Was all she could manage.

He rose. She quickly whipped her mouth and rose as he helped her with her seat. Following behind she walked with him into the main halls. "Would you want some wine?"

With a quick wave of her hand, she declined. "That would not be necessary. I am filled to the brim."

"A walk then?" He suggested.

A walk again? But she couldn't refuse. That would be impolite. "Much obliged to, Your Grace."

He marched towards the main entrance and Beth struggled to keep up with his long strides. She half-ran and half-walked to not lose stance with him, only stopping briefly when he stopped to instruct the butler – Mr. Thomas.

He set out again and she followed, finally stopping by the fence of the fields where the horses ran untethered. He leaned in to pet the shiny black foal that stood close to the fence. Startled, the foal gave a short cry and ran off. The Duke of Carlisle reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigar and the lighter. He smoked heavily too, Beth noticed.

When after a while he didn't say a word – just stood and puffed away – Beth felt she had to somehow break the ice. "They are a lovely bunch, the team of horses." She gestured to the running horses. "They are all yours?"

He puffed and tossed the entire cigar away. Then he turned fully to her. "Come to the Castle with me."

For a moment, Beth wasn't sure he was talking to her. She simply stood still, staring at him and he securely held her gaze. Finally, she asked. "Your Grace?"

He stood to his full height. He was really tall. "You return home in ten days and I will be gone for seven. Seeing as I am determined to know you, I am inviting you to the Castle with me." She continued to stare. "We would tour the Castle grounds together while getting to know one another. What do you say?"

Was he trying to be amusing? But he looked as serious as ever. Dazed, Beth continued to stare at him determined to unravel the meaning behind his words. Lost and wanting to find an escape, she asked. "Why should I do that? Why should I visit the Castle at your request? What about my sister and my cousin who we have come to be with? How can I­_?"

"They are invited to come along if you so wish."

What was he saying? Flustered, Beth walked away and he let her. How could he just ask her to drop all else and visit the Castle as his guest? What would the King think? What would people think? Of course they would conclude that she was his mistress for sure and she refused to disgrace her Aunt and her family so. He had said he was after her friendship, the Duke of Carlisle wanted to be her friend and that was all, but what if he began to wish for more to want more than she could offer? How would she reply to him?