Page 34 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
Isabella’s gaze darted away for the briefest of seconds before she recovered, offering an airy laugh.
"Goodness, I must have made a muddle of it. Perhaps there’s another box yet. So much clutter during the move, I’m sure it will turn up. If I have found this one, then I shall find another."
The flimsy excuse hung in the air, and a small chill of suspicion danced down Blanche's spine. The missing artefacts were a puzzle wrapped in shadows, and her mother's sudden discovery seemed more like a fragment of deception than a genuine recovery.
Philip, standing beside her, observed the exchange with a quiet intensity. His gaze, usually unreadable, now held a glint of curiosity as he took in the scene. The complexities of family dynamics, the secrets that lay beneath polished surfaces, were unfolding before him.
Suppressing her disappointment, Blanche closed the lid gently and forced a smile. "Of course. Thank you for bringing this, at least."
Isabella, her composure regained, feigned relief. "Of course, my dear. Now, do not let this little mishap spoil your day. Enjoy your outing with Leopold."
At that moment, Leopold bounded through the doorway, bursting with excitement. His fervour was infectious, and for a moment, Blanche could not help but be swept away by the joy radiating from her younger brother.
However, the box containing the meagre fragments of her precious artefacts still weighed on her mind, and as Blanche turned to lead Leopold out, she noticed Mother lingering in the doorway. Her usual poised facade seemed fractured, replaced by an uncharacteristic display of anxiety.
Forcing a strained smile to shield Leopold from the worries he need not carry, Blanche tucked the box away discreetly. "Leopold, my dear, are you ready for our adventure? The Tower of London awaits!"
Leopold's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he bounded forward. "Absolutely, Blanche! I cannot wait to see everything!"
Despite Blanche's efforts to focus on Leopold's happiness, a quiet tension hummed beneath the surface. Isabella, the social butterfly who usually revelled in the spotlight, hovered in the doorway, wringing her hands — an image so contrary to her usual confident demeanour. It made Blanche very uncomfortable to see.
The unease in her mother's gaze spoke volumes, but she quickly masked it with a semblance of a smile as the trio climbed into the carriage. "Have a wonderful day, my dears. I shall be eagerly awaiting your tales of adventure."
The moment lodged itself in Blanche’s chest like a pebble in her shoe—small, but impossible to ignore.
The carriage rumbled through the lively streets of London, but Blanche's thoughts remained entangled in the enigma that had unfolded within the walls of her home. As Leopold chattered excitedly about the day ahead, she could not shake the feeling that the shadows behind the smile would continue to cast their pall over the grand outing, leaving her with more questions than answers.
