Page 30 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
Being winter, he supposed that he could. Perhaps if he reduced the number of horses in the stables. But he would have to give a particular consideration to his country estate then. To let it would be a blatant advertisement to the ton that he was struggling financially. But on the other hand, wouldn’t leasing the property not only support this household but maybe with some fine maneuvering of the amount it could bring in, perhaps be used to do what he’d set out to do with Barrington himself?
The problem was, he would be doing it without Barrington’s contacts, and the matter would be much more difficult. And was that fair to those who depended on him? What had already happened to the servants he had let go? What would happen to Lucy if things grew worse?
Regardless, he had already closed this door. He opened the letter thinking it would be an acknowledgement of his withdrawal.
The note was brief:
Will expect you as planned at the hour of three o’clock at Thornhill. Do not delay.
James swore under his breath and set the letter aside. Apparently sending a message had not been effective, and he would have to grovel at the man’s feet to be free of his responsibility. He groaned and put a hand over his eyes, wondering just where his breakfast was, and worrying that Lucy had taken it upon herself to aid in the preparation.
The second letter was the one he eyed with trepidation. Since there had been nothing, other than a somewhat imperious order to show up at Thornhill that afternoon, then whatever had Lucy all in a dither must be there.
He considered leaving it. Looking at the other post first, assuming that it was most likely the usual collection of social invitations. Even staying in Hull had generated more than a handful. The city boasted something of a society, with the reading club and a certain collection of musicians that made the long winters passable for the more refined inhabitants.
But even the first of these generated a certain trepidation for it was indeed just such an invitation to a concert. Had he not just talked to Lady Barrington about taking her to just such an engagement?
The door opened. Lucy entered, this time with two servitors behind her, each carrying platters of hot food, more than one casting resentful glances at his old governess that they probably thought he didn’t notice. None of them had taken joy in having to procure this second breakfast on her say so.
He murmured his thanks as they set it before him, and very pointedly ignored the letter that inevitably came from Lady Barrington while he ate. Lucy hovered near the door, hands clenched in her apron while she waited, but this time at least she was wise enough to hold her tongue and wait upon him.
Maybe she recognizes that I am the duke here, not herself, after all,he thought with a certain exasperation, thinking not for the first time that she did seem to manage the household with the authority of a duchess, even if such efforts were not met with joy and gladness exactly by its denizens.
She waited until he had finished the last morsel of bread before coming to stand near to him. “You will read it now, then?” she asked quietly, her eyes troubled.
He had half a mind not to answer her at all. She was invading his privacy, undermining his authority, and had managed to waste a perfectly good breakfast. On the other hand, he loved her, and so he let her get away with these things, with a certain equanimity having been restored by hot food on a very cold day.
“I will read it now,” he said and so opened the letter.
As he suspected, this one was from Lady Barrington, a fact that should have been apparent by the gentle hand with which she’d addressed the missive. The seal did not so much break as fall off the paper, meaning it had been restored in haste and he shot a look at Lucy as it fell to the table with a clatter.
She at least had the grace to look embarrassed.
“I would expect that if you are going to go to the trouble of opening my mail, you can likewise go to the trouble of answering the letters for me. Though I could have sworn I had someone who already did that, in regards to these blasted invitations,” he said waving a hand at the rest of the mail, pausing over the invitation to the concert.
Lady Barrington would like that,he thought and almost smiled. Being free from the brooch meant he was free to court whomever he chose in whatever way he chose to do so. Perhaps her letter was of thanks, for returning the jewelry. Maybe having the pin back would ease her troubled mind.
Only Lucy would not be so worried were it that innocuous, would she?
With that thought in mind, he unfolded the paper with certain trepidation.
To His Grace, the Duke of Durham
Greetings.
I was somewhat dismayed by the ease with which you have seemingly dispatched your duties toward me. I had been under the impression that you were a man of honor. Now I see that you have left my home in haste, without even bothering to perform the simplest of social functions. Is this how you court a lady?
I am wondering at your fondness toward your servant. Perhaps you are less worried about her continued employment in your service than you previously appeared. Is your reputation likewise worth so little?
I am in hope that we can resolve these matters between us this afternoon at one o’clock, for I will be expecting you. If you choose not to attend upon me at the designated hour, then I will assume that you wish me to take further action.
I look forward to the first of your five (5) visits as agreed upon.
Cordially yours,
Lady Helena Barrington
James set the letter down very carefully next to his empty plate. “Perhaps it would be best if the table were to be cleared,” he said softly, laying his napkin upon the table as well and rising without looking at her.
