Page 29 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

“Quite well, Mrs. Pugh tells me. His Grace’s man came early and has treated the wing and very soon they’re to come up to your room and set him up in here if you would like, Your Grace. He’s a brave little fellow and the groundskeeper has strong hopes he may settle enough to wish to stay with you as your bird if you care for him.”

Elizabeth smiled in delight. She had always loved the birds that had been kept at the Rosenburg estate but had never been allowed to spend much time with them. “That is exactly what I would wish, thank you Sally,” she said brightly. “I must hurry to breakfast but please make sure he is as comfortable as he can be made.”

“Good morning,” Stephen said as she came into the dining room, a little surprised to find him on his own as the hour was getting late to be starting to breakfast. Then she remembered that his siblings had stayed at Stapleton the night before and had likely not returned yet. “How is our young guest settling in?”

She smiled brightly, crossing to sit next to him. “I am told he will likely recover well, thank you, Your Grace.”

“Stephen.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” she said, her gaze dropping a little. She could feel the smile spreading further on her face. When she looked up again it was to find her husband staring at her lips as though entranced, an intense expression on his face.

A flush built up her cheeks as she remembered how he had been delighted by her smile the night before, and then by - other things.

She could not stay so flustered by him! Diana and the others would be home soon, and she felt she would surely die if they were to notice that she was so affected.

“Are you well, Duchess?” he asked, a wicked smile on his lips. “In truth, you look as if you may have a fever. Should you return to your bed? Should I call for a doctor?”

“Indeed sir,” she said, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “I am quite well, perhaps it is you who are unwell. Is your vision fading?”

“Did you find me to be sickly last night, Elizabeth?” he asked, buttering a piece of toast and looking so demure that she wondered how anyone had ever found him out when he had performed mischief as a child. No man came to be in possession of such an innocent affect without practice.

“Your blood certainly ran hot,” Elizabeth retorted, keeping pace with him. It felt like safer ground to be exchanging witticisms like this, and she could see by the twitch of his lips that he was enjoying it too. “Maybe you are the one with the fever.”

“Perhaps we are both ill and should to bed together in fear of spreading it to the rest of the house,” he said, propping his chin on his fist and grinning at her. She scoffed and waved a hand at him and he caught it, kissed the knuckles quick and merry.

“When do your siblings return?” Elizabeth said quellingly, hoping it would bring him away from such dangerous topics and give her a moment’s reprieve to catch her breath.

“They should be home shortly. I imagine they supped early so they could make the journey back. They enjoy Stapleton Manor, but they do not like to be long away from home.”

“I can understand that,” Elizabeth said. It was true. Westall Estate was a happy home, but one with a tragic past. Both things made it a home that the inhabitants disliked to travel far from. She could imagine that in the past the ladies had dared barely leave their house for fear that they would return to find one of their brothers dead. “I hope that they had a lovely time.”

“They will be glad to see you are well. You have settled in to the house so naturally that I believe they are coming to see you as part of the family.”

“I am glad,” Elizabeth said. His tone was a little stilted, cautious but she felt her heart warm at the thought that she could actually begin to have a real part of this world. “Perhaps we should finish the chocolate, however. If Diana is to return soon then we shall not get any.”

He glanced at her quickly, checking her expression and then laughed when he saw that she was jesting. “I say you are right, wife, why should we be the ones to never get a chance at it!”

He took the carafe and poured her a steaming cup, then one for himself. She had noticed that he rarely partook and she had initially been concerned that such rich dishes were not appropriate for her. It felt wicked for the two of them to share the luxury, despite it being his house and her being his wife and the pretense at thievery made her laugh into her hand.

It was frothy, the chocolate. Sweet and rich and milky and it tasted like warmth and comfort.

“Oh -” she gasped. “Oh it’s lovely!”

He was watching her with interest, his own mug untouched. “You could have it every morning, you know. We have plenty.”

“I know -” she hesitated and then smiled when he pushed his mug over for her to have as well. “I was worried it wouldn’t be allowed.”

“Elizabeth…” he was cut off from whatever he was going to say by a servant knocking, and she was glad. It felt as though he might be about to ask something that she was not ready to answer.

“Pardon, Your Grace,” the valet said. “There is a messenger here from the Duke of Rosenburg.”

Elizabeth felt laughter leave her as quickly as though someone had opened a window and let in a draft. She looked to Stephen and found his face set in a puzzled frown.

“Let them in,” he said firmly. “We will hear them.”

The servant darted away and Elizabeth barely had a moment to wonder what her family was about to do to ruin her life again when a small figure came to the door.

“Annie?” she gasped, half standing from her seat.

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