The Duke of Calendula held the thinking and the values of a nobleman, exactly as one would expect of him.
He had been taught not to be carried along by his own appetites, and to hold to the responsibilities and the duties that come with privilege from birth. Take pride in your work, and do it for your people and your house — that was the spirit he had been brought up in. He had never once doubted it was the natural way of things. He believed every nobleman was the same at bottom, whatever the differences of degree.
If you live as a nobleman, you marry where it serves the prosperity of the house. That is required. It is a duty. If you find you cannot bear it, you leave the register and take the freedom of a commoner instead. The Duke has relatives who did exactly that — said the political marriage and the duty were suffocating, struck themselves off, and chose a commoner’s future. He thinks a man is free to choose that life and has no wish to argue with anyone who does. Choose freedom, give up the privilege. That is a choice like any other.
Which is precisely why Leonardo made no sense to him.
If the duties of a nobleman were suffocating, why not decide early and be rid of them? If you despise a marriage made for the good of the house and call it a marriage without love, leave the register and be free. Why not? And if, despite everything, the house cannot be given up, then accept the duty and say nothing.
As for the resentment, take it to the parents who left you with no better choice. Never to the betrothed, who has done nothing wrong at all.
Leonardo’s thinking departed from every one of those values, and the Duke found it foreign and distasteful. He will not give up a nobleman’s privileges. He will not fight the thing he cannot accept. He took it on, and now he stands about complaining of it afterwards at length. And he takes the resentment out on Chloe, who is nothing to him but the girl he is engaged to.
The Duke looks at this incomprehensible young man the way a man looks at the people of an undiscovered country, who have a different culture and different values.
[Er, um…… Your Grace……] (Leonardo Linden)
[……I am astonished. I have reached my age without ever once noticing that I never developed any judgement of people. A grown man who dislikes a marriage without love and remains a nobleman regardless — whose behaviour cannot be understood on its own terms — and I made him my beloved daughter’s betrothed……] (Duke of Calendula)
There is no contempt for Leonardo in it. He simply regrets his own blindness, puts a hand to his forehead, looks down, and says nothing for a while.
Leonardo has no answer to that. To stand in front of a man while he tells you that he misjudged you is far worse than being cursed at. The Duchess has reached the point where shame and helplessness together are nearly taking her consciousness with them.
[……Your Grace, I am truly sorry that I ever wished such a foolish son on your daughter as a betrothed. It is my own inadequacy…… that scum has wasted your daughter’s precious time……] (Duchess of Linden)
She is deeply ashamed of having let this son be engaged to Chloe.
‘Had I known he was this selfish, this stupid, this childish, I would never have allowed the engagement. I handed her a son who understands nothing of a nobleman’s duties or his obligations.’
The regret brings tears up in her eyes.
[Madam Linden, I do not mean to lay it all on you. It was I who consented to the engagement with your son. I met him and judged him fit to marry my daughter, and that is my responsibility too.] (Duke)
Leonardo, spoken ill of by both of them to his face, starts to object — and his mother’s eyes, wet as they are, come round at him sharp enough to stop it. He swallows it. Do not shame us further. He can only keep his mouth shut under the pressure of it.
[This is no more than my own view, but…… a man of the first rank accepts the political marriage and says nothing. A man of the second rank resents it and does not show it. A man of the third rank shows it. A third-rank nobleman for my beloved daughter…… I could not call that fit. But I shall leave the decision about the engagement to Chloe.] (Duke)
It is not what either of them expected, and mother and son both look at him with the same expression.
[What?] (D)
After all that, the engagement would surely be dissolved — no, broken with the fault on Leonardo’s side, and nothing more natural. Instead he hands the judgement to Chloe, who is not even in the house.
[Your Grace, that is…… why?] (D)
She asks it while she is still stunned. The Duke looks down, and the answer comes out sadly.
[Because it is Chloe’s will. So I shall respect Chloe’s will. …… I have never once stood beside my daughter in what she felt. This is the little I can do to make amends. If Chloe says she will continue the engagement, I shall watch and hold my peace. If she says she wishes to break it, I shall have the paperwork put through at once.] (Duke)
[I…… I see……] (D)
She cannot take his meaning in quickly enough to give him a proper answer, and what she manages is vague and blank.
‘The engagement continues. I should be glad of that. Should I be glad of that?’
The confusion takes over her head entirely.
[I shall take my leave, then. Forgive the sudden call, and the trouble of it.] (Duke)
[Ah…… no, it is I who should apologise, for having caused you such displeasure……] (D)
[Not at all. It was I who arrived on your doorstep without warning. There is no need to see me out. Good day to you.] (Duke)
The tea that was brought for him is still steaming. The Duke gets up and goes without lingering over it.
Nothing was discussed, in the end. Nothing was settled. All he has left behind is the one result: the engagement now rests on Chloe’s judgement.
The two of them stand and stare at the door he went out of. The Duchess comes back to herself first, and gives her orders to the servants.
[……Lock Leonardo in the storeroom in the cellar. Turn the key from the outside, and do not let him out for any reason until I say so.] (D)
[Wh—? M-Mother……] (L)
Before he can get anything further out, the Linden footmen have hold of him and are dragging him out of the room. His voice goes on protesting down the corridor, and then it fades, little by little, until there is nothing.
