Page 14 of A Duchess to Reclaim

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Ada replied, both her and Mrs. Morbate once more bowing deeply.

“Mr. Morbate?” Amelia called as the other servants were silently dismissed.

“Your Grace,” he answered with a bow.

“Would you please deliver a message to my husband, wherever he may be in this grand place, and tell him I request his presence over a late dinner in my quarters?” Amelia asked. There was much she wanted to discuss, to learn. Now more than ever.

The butler gave her a sympathetic look, and gave a slight shake of his head.

“I am afraid His Grace is unreachable, My Lady.”

Amelia’s brows knitted together as she felt a well of disappointment.

“And why is that?” She asked.

“Because, Your Grace, he has already departed.”

* * *

“Eve,” Amelia called out from her bath, “May I ask you something?”

She had spent the evening with her friends, trying to get over the shock and disappointment of Dominic’s departure. They had explored the rooms in the Duchess wing, chattered and gossiped about the mixture of beauty and dark mystery of not just the house itself, but the staff as well. They had all tried, at great length, to speak to Ada and Mrs. Morbate about Dominic, but answers, though kind and polite, eluded to no great details.

They had all dined together, then deciding to not call on their maids, helped one another dress for bed and undo the intricate styles put into their hair for the auspicious day. They’d then chatted and giggled long into the night, nibbling on fruits and sipping on wine, until one by one, Rose, Ophelia, and eventually Theo, retired back to their rooms with sleepy eyes and heavy footsteps.

Amelia had tried to go to sleep in the vast, soft expanse that was her new bed, but it was a task she could not complete. Finally she gave up, rang for Eve, and requested a bath.

“Yes, Your Grace, of course,” Eve answered presently, looking up from her stitching. “Do you need me to wash your back? Or perhaps fetch you a different bath oil?”

“No, no, please stay,” Amelia answered, sitting up in the large copper tub, “I want to ask you about your master. My husband.”

Eve went rigid for a moment, her needle freezing just before it was about to delve into the fabric, then her shoulders relaxed, and she continued.

“I do not know much about him, Your Grace,” she said politely. “As Ada told you, I have only recently come into employ at the house.”

“Yes, but you must knowsomething,”Amelia insisted.

“Perhaps you should ask Mrs. Morbate-”

“I have already tried,” Amelia replied, her tone more curt than intended.

She took a deep breath, gathered her senses, and sunk lower into the warm water until the bottom of her chin touched the surface.

“I only want to know who I am married to, Eve,” she said softly, speaking to her more as a friend than an employer. “I thought he was just another Duke with an inflated sense of self, but there is something different about Dominic. Something…more than the nobility that his title provides him. I want to know what that is.”

Silence stretched between them for a long moment before Amelia heard Eve sigh softly, and then the maid put her stitching down to come kneel by the large tub.

“I truthfully do not know your husband, Your Grace,” she said quietly, “But I can tell you my story, and how our paths crossed, if you wish.”

Amelia sat back up, excitement shooting through her as she quickly nodded.

“Until a few months ago, I was a maid in another house for another esteemed family. Not one so regal as the Duke, but still one of nobility. The Lord of that house had…” she stopped, blushing, and Amelia felt her stomach twist.

She knew what happened to many pretty maids. Knew because she’d seen her father corner more than a few.

“Go on,” she urged softly. “I will not judge you, and your employment is not in any danger from me.”

A look of appreciation passed over Eve’s face, and she continued.

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