Page 20 of Her Ice-Hearted Duke
The man before her was as cold as stone, in manners, conversation, and looks.
The softness he had showed when he had kissed her hand seemed a great distance away, as if it was something she had imagined once in a dream that had disappeared like vapor.
“We are here.” His voice announced their arrival.
The carriage barely halted as he opened the door and stepped down. He didn’t wait to help her down, but in his heartless way, strode toward the house, leaving Margaret staring after him.
Like a man made of shadow, he fled up the steps of his house. As he disappeared inside, her eyes landed on the house, and she gasped.
She’d heard her sisters talking about the grandness of the Duke of Thornfield’s house the last few days. They had read the gossip in the scandal sheets, but Margaret had been too apprehensive about the wedding to dwell too much on what her new home would be like in material value.
Before her was a very tall building made of yellow stone, with mock turrets on either side of the house, so that it looked like some Tudor man’s idea of a castle. Great windows sparkled in the vast sunlight of the day, each long pane glistening like an elongated cat’s eye. Vines and ivy trailed up the walls as flanked on either side of the house were high walls, leading to the formal gardens.
Judging by the sweet scents that wafted her way, those gardens were full of flowers, having had the same wealth spent on them as had been spent on the house.
“My goodness, it’s beautiful,” Margaret whispered.
A footman stepped forward and offered his hand to help her descend. She smiled her thanks, noticing the way the footman stared after his master.
“And what is your name?” Margaret said, quite determined to get to know her new staff. If this was to be her new home, then she would embrace it as much as she could, even if Theodore had made the decision to keep her at arms’ length.
“Yates, Your Grace,” the footman said with a bow.
It was the first time Margaret had been addressed with her new title. She flinched at the sound of it.
“Welcome to your new home.” He smiled broadly. “The master, he…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to explain why the Duke had run away so quickly.
“Is preoccupied?” she offered up.
“Yes, just so. I hope you enjoyed your wedding, Your Grace.” The footman gestured toward the house. “I understand the housekeeper has gathered the staff in the entrance hall ready to meet you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Margaret felt nerves spike in her stomach, but she thrust them down and stepped forward.
She was vaguely aware that behind her, another smaller cart had arrived, carrying her cases and portmanteaus from her house. She tried not to think of how frayed and broken some of those cases were compared to the grandeur of this house. Her new staff would know within minutes of her stepping into this place that she came from a different part of society to Theodore.
Slowly, Margaret walked up the steps that led the way to the front door. On either side of the door were glistening panes of golden stained glass. The large mahogany door was open wide, beckoning her inside.
As she stepped in, she hoped, well, prayed that Theodore was waiting there for her. That he would at least do his duty of introducing her to the staff. The sight that did meet her gaze though left her with a knotted stomach and cheeks she could feel reddening in embarrassment.
Theodore’s tailcoat ends were seen flapping around the nearest door as he disappeared. Maids whispered in one another’s ear, pulling at each other’s coifs the better to hear each other, and pointing after him. The housekeeper was looking at the doorway through which Theodore had left with a scandalized expression.
The moment she noticed Margaret’s arrival, she put a smile on her face and turned to greet her. She was clearly in charge of the staff in her demure black dress, high-collared and stiff, with a chatelain at her hip, and the most expensively embroidered coif of the staff.
“Your Grace.” She stepped forward and curtsied. Despite her stiff attire, she had a friendly countenance. “Please allow me to welcome you to your new home. We are delighted to have you here.”
“Thank you. That is very kind.” Margeret fixed as false a smile in place as the housekeeper wore. “I think… my new husband has much on his mind at present.” She cleared her throat, trying notto look affected by his cold manner and his determination to run away from her. “Would you be so kind as to show me the house, Ms.…?”
“Mrs. Lancaster.” The housekeeper smiled genuinely now. “I’d love to show you around. First, let me introduce you to your new staff. This is Betsy, she shall be your lady’s maid.”
She turned to introduce a red-haired girl with very pink cheeks who curtsied so deeply she was in danger of falling over.
“Then we have Isabella, Cicely, and Maria. They are the maids for the household.” They all then curtsied in turn, too.
Mrs. Lancaster went on to introduce a whole household of staff that had gathered to greet her, including groundskeepers, gardeners, cooks and the Duke’s valet. By the time they were done, Margaret’s cheeks hurt from the effort she put into maintaining her false smile.
“Fear not, Your Grace, the names will come in time,” Mrs. Lancaster said reassuringly.
“Oh, let me try now. For I am determined to get it right.” With the whole hallway’s attention on her, Margaret began to go through them all. “Here is Betsy, Isabella, Maria and Cicely…” Then she went on, doing all the groundskeepers, gardeners, and cooks too. By the time she was done, everyone looked dutifully impressed and smiling.
