Page 15 of His Abandoned Duchess

Cocking his head, Frederick regarded his oldest friend with a look of judgment. They had known each other since attending college, and there was next to nothing that the man did not know about the Duke. A status that no other human save those there for Richard’s abysmal childhood could claim.

“Don’t look at Amelia like that, friend. I am well aware of my own prejudices with regard to financial matters and family status. That is not what colors my thoughts.”

Frederick scoffed. “How could it not, Richard? Your father was a cruel and particular man, and while those lessons may be looked upon with derision now, they are still a part of your past. I only worry that you judge Her Grace too severely. Falling into the footsteps of that very man you so distrust and abhor.”

Richard stiffened, his spine going rigid as a plank as his stomach knotted within him. “We shall not discuss my family. I do not speak to them, and my father has passed. I will not be controlled by his last command for Amelia now that his oppressive presence can no longer cause harm.”

Frederick’s expression softened, and he leaned forward to clap a hand on Richard’s shoulder. Offering a gentle squeeze, his friend offered him the only means of sympathy that Richard would accept from anyone.

“I did not wish to upset you, old friend. The situation you find yourself in is not one I am jealous of. You have much to consider, it’s true. I can only provide my perspective from a position outside the direct conflict. Please know that I only wish to aid you however I might.”

Relaxing, Richard nodded once, clearing his throat as Frederick pulled back his hand and returned to his coffee in earnest.

“I hear your words, Freddie, genuinely. In truth,” he let out a heavy sigh, “the situation with Amelia is far more complicated than I could have predicted. She is a willful, headstrong woman, one that I do not recognize from the day of our wedding. Though, I am, of course, aware of how little time we spent together.”

“That is not entirely uncommon, Richard. And while I understand your choice to reside in the country, it is by doing so that you have driven a wedge between you two. She had been left alone to manage the estate these five years. Surely, you must at the least be a bit impressed by what she has managed to accomplish without your oversight or education.”

Richard could not keep himself from rolling his eyes. “I am impressed that the number of scandal sheets has only been enough to count on one hand. Have you read them? How am I to not be concerned? There is true damage to be done toourreputation should the claims grow unresolved and in number.”

Frederick leaned into the arm of the chair, sighing with a shake of his head. “The Ton is fickle with its obsessions, and as withevery other minor incident, this latest claim will fade away when no evidence can support it. Indeed, if I were to let their workings affect my personal concerns, I would lack the wherewithal to exit my bed each morning.”

At that, Richard had to laugh. Frederick did indeed have quite the reputation that the Ton appeared to enjoy spreading about town and beyond. It was unlikely that Lord Emerton knew the extent to which people talked, but it had long been suspected—if not proven—that he was a bit of a rake.

A fact that Richard knew with complete certainty.

However, he had to admit that he was aware of the Lord’s dealings only because Frederick enjoyed speaking of them to him. Freddie was quite discreet with his appointments and such. Still, he was impossibly charming, and that, with his handsome countenance, proved a telling facet of his personality.

“That is precisely what I am so concerned about. The talk surrounding you is far less at present than it is for this most recent scandal involving my wife. And we are both aware of the fact that some of what is spread about you is true. Can the same be said of Amelia? Do I have genuine cause for worry over the state of her fidelity?”

Silence crowded the space between them. Richard knew that his friend was too nervous to broach the topic, choosing to abstain from commenting on his wife’s intimate encounters. He could hardly blame the man, but the Duke was growing more andmore enraged over the way these inner workings of his estate and very life slipped from his control.

“I wish to have nothing more to do with the woman than imparting within her the knowledge to manage this home and our family’s reputation with more fastidious care. Once that is done, I shall leave. And should there be another sheet presented to me, I shall be far less forgiving.”

The two of them returned to their coffees, sipping as the quiet pressed in. While the thought of abandoning his wife to the world should she not bend to his will rang of logic and justified punishment—a term he’d often heard from his father—his stomach soured at the thought, an odd twinge in his chest appearing at the thought of never seeing her again.

Be steady, Richard. You must never forget where the most significant importance lies.

Chapter Seven

Several painstaking minutes had passed since Amelia had sat down with Baldwin. He was positioned across from her on a low couch placed beneath the study’s window while she stood in front of Richard’s desk.

Amelia rarely did business in this room, finding it too much of her husband’s essence. She could see the man’s preferences and style selections in each item chosen for the space, from the extensive mahogany writing desk to the collection of very particular books on the shelves, all those from his college days.

As she blinked, finishing her sip of tea, Amelia fought back the urge to sigh. She set her cup down on the desk, taking care not to spill so much as a drop onto the glossy wooden surface. Her saucer clicked gently as she tried to organize her thoughts. Richard had forced her into a situation that had no bearing on the actual needs of the household, and despite Baldwin’s seemingly polite air, the fact was that they were not looking for a new steward.

“Baldwin,” Amelia began, “Mr. Stanley, I appreciate that you have come all this way to discuss the position of steward for the Heartwick estate. However, I regret to inform you that the position is already filled. We are quite pleased with Mr. Dannish and the care he has taken with the position.”

The man shifted in his chair, returning his own cup of coffee to the small table to the right of the sofa. As he met her eyes once more, they were direct and unblinking, his nearly emotionless expression pressing down on Amelia uncomfortably.

“I am sure you think that, Your Grace. But I assure you that I am the right person for the position. Regardless of the need you might have—whatever unseemly or insignificant task—I can service you to the last. Furthermore, as you are of the fairer sex, I understand your fascination with spending. A fact His Grace alluded to. I am more than capable of reining in these misguided decisions, staying your hand whenever the impulse might strike.”

Amelia’s jaw dropped open, and she blinked rapidly as she attempted to digest the words spewed by Mr. Stanley. The furious pounding in her ears was nearly deafening, and she instinctively clutched her hands into fists at her sides.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stanley, but I am quite capable myself. I do not require any amount of guidance regarding the estate’s budget or any other matter of the household. As stated, the position is not available. Good day.”

She gestured toward the door, assuming that the man was more than able to show himself out since he was evidently quite the “nonesuch” of the working class.

“There is no need to be coy, mistress. I am all too aware of what needs to be done. I have served similarly before, assisting many a lonely lady of the house to manageaffairswhen their husbands have taken to the country and beyond. And I can be sure that your recorded behavior keeps the Duke in good spirits so that he might remain there indefinitely.”

---