The black curtains became pale blue, the walls became white with floral paper, and the pianoforte was turned so that it was facing the wall. Diana pulled a face and looked at Samantha incredulously.

“So we have spent all of that time decorating, and now, you would rather look at the wall rather than the room when you play?”

“It is not for me,” she laughed. “It is for the duke. I had an idea, and Mary agreed that he would love it. You will see.”

Mary then appeared with a painting, placing it on the wall and adjusting it so that it was perfectly straight.

“Oh, that is beautiful,” Diana said gently. “Who painted that?”

“The late Duchess,” Mary sighed wistfully. “It is the Duke’s favorite of hers. It was stored away as the staff knew what the late Duke planned to do when she passed. He instructed us to destroy them as his failure of a wife could have no place in his home.”

“I have never met the man,” Diana sneered, “and I never shall, but I loathe him entirely.”

“That is more than understandable,” Mary agreed. “And we could not bear the thought of doing it, so we all risked our work and hid them away. We have not yet told the Duke this as there has been so much happening, but we think he will like it.”

“It was brilliant of you all,” Samantha observed. “I cannot wait for him to see it.”

Samantha stepped back and looked at what they had done. At last, it felt like a room that the late duchess would have belonged in. Samantha wished that she could have met her, but with Mary’s assertion that it was perfect, she knew that it had been the right thing to do.

As the three of them had tea (a welcomed reward for their work), Samantha noticed how her sister seemed more at ease. It was then that she noticed that she felt the same way. It was no longer the late duke’s drawing room, it was theirs.

As Diana was leaving, she gave the room one final glance before embracing her sister.

“I shall have to broach the subject with my own husband,” she smirked. “I have been so thoroughly inspired.”

“Then you simply must invite me to help you! It is only fair.”

“You need not ask, dear sister. As you say, it is only fair that I receive help in return for my efforts.”

“So long asIreceive tea!”

The two sisters laughed, and Diana left. Samantha missed her as soon as she was gone, but she felt far better about her prospects. Diana was right — she did not need to know everything then and there, and the Duke would take care of her. They were a team now, and she liked him a great deal, even if she was not yet ready to tell him.

But she wanted to be ready. Perhaps, she wondered, it would be the right time when her husband saw what she had done with the drawing room. He would thank her for her efforts, tell her how much he appreciated it, and she would tell him how much she appreciated him in return.

And so, she waited for him to see it.

CHAPTER 23

Graham had been aware that he needed to speak with brothers for quite some time, but he could not bring himself to do so.

He was content with his life away from them. He had a good wife, far better than he ever thought he would find, and now that he was back in the household, he was realizing that he enjoyed the company of his staff too. He had friends, and they were good to him. Strictly speaking, he did not need anything else.

But he wanted to know them. Each and every time Samantha mentioned her sister, his heart ached. He had always told himself that he did not care whether or not his brothers were around, but the reminder that they did not speak hurt him more than he cared to admit.

And it had not been their fault.

They had all been complicit, but they could not be to blame for their father pitting them against one another. Graham wished more than anything that it had been different. Then, he realized that he could at last do something to fix it. After all, he was the oldest.

Which was why, even though he did not want to do it, he had boarded a carriage in the early hours of the morning to pay one of them a visit. He did not see it ending well, but he wanted to try, regardless. At worst, he would be back where he started.

He did not want to knock on the door. The house was small but nothing to scoff at. His brother had clearly done well for himself in spite of everything, and it was quite admirable that he had succeeded after all. It was a shame that Graham had not been there to see it, but the only way to remedy the situation was to speak with him, which would begin with him knocking on the door.

And so, he did.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a man stepped out, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Your Grace,” the butler said as he stepped outside, “I was not expecting you.”