Page 16 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
Which is why, she suspected, she’d always feared herself a failure.
Her mother had died young but her older sister, Georgia, had smoothly taken over the running of the Earl of Bonkinbone’s household. She’d made it look easy, and Ellie had always admired her sister’s calm dignity. Ellie had been excited, in fact, to marry Rufus and become a viscountess, because it gave her the chance to rule her own household.
In Cumnock House, however, that wasn’t an option.
Take this morning, for instance. The day after her midnight assignation with—No, do not think ofthatnow. The point was, Ellie was still the viscountess, but shestillfelt like an interloper in her own home.
How long will it be your home?
No, she mustn’t think of that, either.
Instead she held her chin high and marched toward her room, resisting the urge to sulk guiltily.
Oh, she had plenty to feel guilty about, certainly, but not because she’d chosen to have breakfast with Merida in the nursery. Which of course is why, when she stepped into her chambers, her maid Purcell was glaring at her.
Ellie hadn’t been allowed to bring her maid when she’d married Rufus, and Purcell—a sour-faced woman deeply loyal to the Aycock family—had been assigned to her. She put far more stock in appearances than Ellie ever could, which was saying something, considering Ellie had been raised by a man like George Stoughton who lived and breathed propriety.
Just look what had happened to poor Georgia when the mere hint of scandal had brushed against her.
“My lady,” Purcell announced stiffly, unbending enough to gesture toward the skirt and shirtwaist Ellie wore. “So good of you to join me.”
Ellie fought the chagrined apology which tried to climb up her throat, and instead impersonated her sister as she swept—as haughtily as she could manage—to sit. “A simple coiffure today, Purcell.”
“Absolutely not, my lady,” the maid announced, already pulling the pins from the unpretentious bun Ellie had managed herself. “It is bad enough you dress so simply—”
“I was breaking my fast in the nursery,” Ellie interrupted. “With my husband’s daughter.”
The maid did not flinch at the implied reprimand. Instead her patrician nose wrinkled, as if she’d stepped in something foul.
“You are a widow now, my lady.”
As if Ellie didn’t know.
“And as such,” Purcell continued, “you must honor your husband’s family. It is not as if you have family of your own to return to.”
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Ellie clenched her jaw and refused to allow the tears pricking at the backs of her eyes to show. Yes, Mother was long gone. Yes, Father was dead. And yes, Rufus was dead. Both of her male relatives in such a short time, even though both deaths had been expected, and somewhat of a relief.
“I have family,” she reminded herself.
It wasn’t until the maid snorted primly, yanking on a lank of Ellie’s hair, that she realized she’d spoken out loud.
“A disgraced sister married to a foul-mouthed, reclusive duke? Hardly a family connection worth bragging about,my lady. No, it is far better for you to ignore them, the way the rest of civilized society does, and cultivate your relationship with Lord Jasper and Lady Mathilde. After all, Lord Jasper will be the new Viscount Cumnock and his father’s heir, now your husband is dead.”
Swallowing, Ellie allowed one of her sets of fingers to inch from her lap to her stomach, pressing against the dark shirtwaist she wore. Last night…Fawkes had spilled his seed in her. Fawkes had shown her pleasure she’d never even imagined possible—
I thought we decided you were not going to think about that?
“Jasper might not inherit,” she blurted.
Ellie should have felt a burst of glee when Purcell froze, one pin poised to viciously jab into Ellie’s head, her eyes wide. The maid’s gaze darted over Ellie in the mirror, and her expression of surprise slowly changed to sneering incredulity.
“Do not tell me that you expect us to believe you might beenceinte. His lordship was in a coma for months!”
“Not true. He was occasionally awake.”
Why are you arguing about this? Just state your claim and let it be. Do not engage.
The maid shoved the last pin in and leaned over Ellie’s shoulder. “The Viscountdidoccasionally wake, yes, but he was not coherent. Are you saying the two of you…”
