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“Thank you, Mrs. Pickett. I am happy to be home.” He looked it. He looked like a man at perfect ease. “But you mustn’t put the cart before the horse. ‘My lord’ will do.”
“Mr. Parsons is eager to speak with you, your grace,” the butler said with perfect sobriety. “He awaits you in the study.”
None of the other servants arrayed on the drive batted a lash.
“See? I told you,” Rave
Luc shook his head, then led Arabella up the steps and through the front door. Inside the majestic limestone mountain all was color and elegance and glittering light, from carved wooden stair rails and gilded furniture, to portraits of gaily gowned ladies and richly robbed gentlemen, to harlequin tiled floors and beeswax candles burning in bronze sconces and crystal chandeliers.
“What do you think, little governess?” he said quietly. “Does this offer you sufficient material to command, or should I build an additional wing and hire a dozen more servants?”
She looked up at him. His eyes shone not with teasing or censure, but pride and guarded hope. Her heart ached—the heart that he owned despite her efforts.
“This should do,” she managed.
He smiled slightly and withdrew from her. “Miss Caulfield, Miss Rave
The housekeeper gave Arabella a tour of the house, her sisters and Beast in tow.
“And you thought you could only have a palace if you married a prince,” Rave
“She never wanted a palace,” Eleanor said. “Only the prince.”
“This is not my house,” Arabella said quietly. “We are only here to see to matters until the duchess’s baby is born.”
“This is Ellie’s favorite room in the whole pile.” Rave
“Di
“It does. Thank you, Mrs. Pickett. But you mustn’t call me your grace,” she said gently. “It is disrespectful to my husband’s aunt.”
“Yes, your grace.” The housekeeper curtsied and left. Arabella turned to Eleanor, seeing again her sister’s thi
“You are biting the inside of your lip, Bella,” Eleanor said with a dip of her brow. “What troubles you?”
“Do the servants behave well with you?”
“Of course they do. We are your sisters.”
But she had worked in too many aristocrats’ houses not to know the truth of it, and she did not speak her thoughts: that the people of Combe must have anticipated another sort of woman to be their new mistress. An actual lady.
“Clearly they do not have trouble imagining you as the duchess,” Eleanor said. “Indeed, they seem eager to do so.”
Arabella straightened her shoulders. She would fulfill their expectations. Dreaming of a prince, she had trained herself to this life for a decade. She would be a duchess, or least a comtesse living in a duchess’s house. He would not have cause to be ashamed of her.
“Come now. Let us see your bedchamber.” Eleanor took her hand and opened the door. “We haven’t been allowed a peek since it was being redecor . . .”
Her words died. They all halted in the doorway. The bedchamber was spectacular, elegant and understated and utterly feminine with ivory and pale pink silk damasks, subtle gilding on the dressing table and chairs, sparkling mirrors, and draperies of the thi
“It’s . . .” Rave
“Fit for a princess,” Eleanor said.
Arabella’s stomach was tight. “You say it was recently redecorated?”
Rave
Weeks ago, before she had known she was a comtesse or a duchess-in-waiting. When she had still believed herself to be the widow of a merchant shipmaster.
“Look, Bella.” Rave
Eleanor grasped her hand. “Now, Bella, I will ring for tea and you will tell us how this all came about.”
LUC DID NOT join them for di
Later, in a nightrail of the finest silk edged with soft lace, she curled up on her wide mattress and listened to the sighs of the fire and sounds of her husband in the next chamber. Finally his door closed and his footsteps receded down the corridor.
SHE BREAKFASTED IN her bedchamber alone until Rave
“Can I share your chocolate?” Rave
“Do servants drink chocolate where you live?”
“I certainly do. But the na
“Do you like them?”
“I do. And they adore me. I am the only person in England, apparently, that knows how to keep twelve pugs, three wolfhounds, and two parrots all healthy and happy at once. It’s quite a marvelous arrangement.”
“But you are not entirely happy there.”
Rave
“Is she unhappy?”
“She says she is content.” She shook her head.
A maid came to the door. “Your grace, the duke wishes you to join him at the stable in three-quarters of an hour. He asks that you dress to ride. May I assist you?”
STANDING AT THE grand entrance to the long, low-roofed complex of stables, he watched her with leisurely and undisguised appreciation as she approached across the drive.
He bowed. “That habit suits you.”
She smoothed her palms over the velvet skirt the color of the autumn sky. “It is almost as though it had been made with me in mind.”
“Isn’t it?” He smiled.
“I should be wearing mourning for your uncle.”
“Rather, you should be wearing diamonds for me.”
“You—”
“If you tell me that I mustn’t attempt to purchase your obedience with pretty gifts, I will probably say something to the effect that I fully intend the beautiful gowns for my pleasure without any regard as to whether they would bring you pleasure too, or indeed ensure me any sort of other advantage. Then you will glower at me—”
“I do not glower.”
“—and we will quarrel and you will stalk away—”
“I do not stalk away, except perhaps twice.”
“—and I shan’t be afforded the pleasure of enjoying the beautiful gowns after all. So do spare me the chastisement, duchess.” He bowed. “If you will.”
“I do not wish to chastise you.” She could not bear this teasing when her heart was so confused. “I only wish to thank you for the gowns. For my chambers. For all that you have given me. But especially for bringing my sisters here.”
He studied her face for a moment, his expression unreadable. “It is my pleasure.” He turned to the broad door of the stable from which a groom was leading two horses. She touched his arm to stay him, and he paused and looked down at her hand. She withdrew it.