Page 15 of His Arranged Duchess
“Nothing,” she responded smoothly, tuckingCecilia’s Trialsinto the folds of her skirts. “Lead on, then. I’m quite ready for bed, I must admit.”
“I’m not surprised,” she laughed. “It’s been quite a day. To tell the truth, Your Grace, nobody much likes to wander around Blackstone Abbey in the dark.”
“Why? Is it haunted?”
Frances was joking, of course. For all her love of Gothic novels, she did not really believe inghosts.
Joan, however, did not smile.
“I suppose you could say that it is haunted, yes,” she murmured. “In a way. Haunted by the dead, and by the living.”
She drifted off, bringing the candle with her, and suddenly Frances was very keen to follow her and stay in the light.
CHAPTER 6
“This was called the Lady’s Room, once upon a time,” Joan confided, throwing open the door. “On account of it belonging to the lady of the house. It’s not the biggest bedroom, but it is the nicest one, with the best view. It overlooks the gardens, and while they aren’t as pretty as usual, what with being so neglected, it’s still a fair view. Oh, and you can see the kitchen gardens from here. Ed and I take care of that ourselves, and it seems to be going pretty well.”
Frances stepped into her new room and swallowed hard.
Well, it was larger than her last room, and no mistake about that. It wasn’t exactly better – Mama had excellent taste, and all the rooms in their house were well-appointed and very stylish – but it was certainlydifferent.
“All of this furniture…” Frances murmured, letting her fingertips skim over a heavy chest of drawers, “… it’s so old.”
Joan bit her lip. “I do beg your pardon, Your Grace. I daresay you can order newer things, if you like.”
“No, I like it. It feels as though it has character,” Frances murmured. “Mama orders things from catalogues. They’re always very pretty, and it’s whatshelikes, but I think I like older things. Unusual things. The sort of thing I won’t see sitting in somebody else’s parlour. Does that make sense?”
She glanced over to see that Joan was smiling.
“It does, Your Grace. Shall I help you with your hair and dress? I’m not a young woman, and my fingers aren’t as nimble as they used to be, but I should serve you well enough until my Susan arrives to take care of you.”
Nodding, Frances settled herself in a seat in front of a wide dressing table, watching herself in the mirror. Joan set to work unpicking the pins in Frances’s hair, not that there were many. It would want a good brush, having been down all day.
She could see the whole room reflected behind her. The bed was the largest she had ever seen, a green velvet canopy draped around it, the bed itself piled high with cushions and blankets.
Beside the bed, she noticed for the first time, was a deep rectangle set into the wall.
A door,she realized after a moment.
“Joan?”
“Hm?”
“Where does that door lead to?”
Joan twisted around and chuckled to herself. “Well, that leads into the master’s bedroom. His Grace’s room.”
An odd sensation, one that seemed neither hot nor cold and yet both at the same time, swept over Frances’sskin.
He’s just in the next room. What if he comes in here during the night? He could just… just crawl onto my bed while I slept, like Lord Malevonte did with Cecilia.
That was nonsense, of course. Lucien had given his word, and Lord Malevonte, after all, did not exist. She was quite,quitesure that the shiver which rolled through her spine wasnota thrill at the thought that Lucien might crawl into her bed. She did not want that. No, certainly not. Just because she wasn’tafraidof the man didn’t mean she wanted…oh, best not to think about that, really.
Concentrating on her own reflection, Frances bit her lip and tried not to think about whether Lucien might be in the next room at that very moment. He might be lounging on his bed, reading a book. He might already be asleep.
He might be stripping down to his skin, about to step into a steaming, hot bath.
No, no, no!
