Page 24 of His Accidental Duchess

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Grace. Of course, I wish you happiness, but… well, a new mistress means that everything will change for us, you know.” She paused, glancing down at Kitty.

The end of her sentence went unspoken, but Theodore heard it anyway.

And for her.

He reached out, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. “Everything will be well, Martha. This is still my household, and while I believe that my new Duchess will be an opportune addition to our lives, I have no intention of letting her be a tyrant.”

Martha relaxed, just a little. “Of course, Your Grace. Forgive me, it’s not my place, only that Mrs. Haunt was saying it this morning.”

His eyebrow rose again. “Goodness. It must be widespread gossip indeed if even myhousekeeperis saying it.”

Flushing red, Martha bobbed a curtsey and hurried down the hall, with Kitty skipping along beside her.

Theodore watched them go. Something sparked in his gut, and if he didn’t know better, he would have said that it was anxiety.

Thank goodness he knew better.

St. Maur Manor was every bit as dilapidated as Theodore had heard. His carriage was a shining delight of lacquer and waxin comparison, standing slightly askew on the unraked, weed-frilled gravel. He climbed out nimbly, staring at rows and rows of shuttered windows.

The door bounced open, and a pair of girls stood there. Twins, by the look of them, wearing dresses several years out of fashion and neatly darned in several places. The sleeves only came midway down their arms, the cuffs turned back at least twice. One girl nibbled nervously on her thumbnail, and the other crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“Good morning,” Theodore said, striding across the gravel and up the stairs, stepping past the girls and into the foyer without waiting to be asked. “You two must be my sisters-in-law-to-be.”

The girl with her arms folded tossed her hair back over her shoulders. It was unbound, unusual for a girl of her age, but that was not his concern.

“And you’re the man who wants to marry my sister.”

“Indeed, I am. The Duke of Langdon, at your service.”

He made a good leg, leaving the girls glancing at each other, disconcerted. They bobbed twin curtseys a second too late.

“I’m Daphne,” the bold girl announced, “and this is Emily.”

Emily smiled nervously at him, taking her thumbnail out of her mouth. Theodore glanced over their worse-for-wear gownsand bit back a sigh. He couldn’t let them attend his wedding looking like that. So, there were another two gowns he would have to order and pay for. The modiste he used was good and willing to come out and make measurements, as well as work quickly. Expensive, naturally—all the best things were—and she sensed that Theodore did not want to be bothered with too much trouble. He hated having to go out of his way to order anything at all.

“Shall you show me to the drawing room, or shall I look for it?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

The girls had the grace to flush.

“It’s the maid’s day off,” Daphne volunteered, earning a sharp look from her sister.

“Of course,” Theodore responded as if he heard such things every day.

Of course, a house like this would need a great many servants to run it, and he had it on good authority that the Belmont family could only afford a handful if that.

“I’ll bring up tea, you take him to Mama and Anna,” Emily whispered to her sister and then took off at a run down the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the walls.

Nobody had offered to take Theodore’s hat and gloves, so he removed them himself, setting them on a lopsided chair by thedoor. He turned back to Daphne, who was watching him with narrowed eyes.

“The dress arrived this morning,” she said abruptly. “The one you commissioned for Anna.”

“I’m glad. Are any alterations needed?”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes still fixed on him. “Why did you buy her a dress?”

“Why, I believe that is our concern, don’t you?” He flashed her a quick, wolfish smile. “Lead on, Miss Daphne.”

She took the hint at last, turning on her heel without another word and hurrying down the hallway. To his surprise, he was led upstairs. Upstairs drawing rooms hadn’t been fashionable for a long time, but he supposed the rooms would be smaller and easier to manage. The air was thick with dust—he could see it in the corners of the stairs, clogging up the windowsills and gathering into little balls every few feet. Still, he kept his expression impassive.

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